Chapter Text
Din is balancing out his expenses and putting together a to-do list when he hears a soft thump from the next room.
The ship is silent except for the quiet humming of the hyperdrive and the slight rattle of one of the fans in the ventilation system starting to come loose. The only lights in the hold are the single light Din had turned on above his nook in the corner of the hold, the indicators on the ramp controls, and a little blinking light coming from Din’s kitchenette.
When the child peeks through the half-open door of his room, Din pretends not to notice for a moment, finishing off one of the notes in his to-do list He sees the child’s big eyes glittering in the light in his peripheral vision. Din half-hopes that if he doesn’t acknowledge the child he’ll turn around and get back in bed, but he knows he isn’t that lucky. Finally, he turns his head towards the child.
“Are you gonna come over here or what?” he asks. The child giggles and toddles into the pool of light around Din. When he reaches Din’s leg, he looks up and lifts his arms to reach for Din.
“You want up?” The child gurgles happily, and Din reaches down to scoop him onto the bench next to him.
“You can stay up for a minute, and then back to bed, you little womp rat.” The child gives Din a toothy smile and sleepily rups an eye. Din chuckles and turns back to his datapad. He needs to stop by Horldoeff station because they have cheaper food prices and he’s buyting for two now, but he’s not sure if they have the kind of bone broth the kid seems to like. The sublight engines need a tune-up and the nav systems need an upgrade, which he likes to get from -
Din pauses.
The child has scooted closer to him, and is now trying to squeeze beneath his arm. Din lifts it, bemused, and the child burrows in against him, leaning his little head up against Din’s side just above his hip, about where his belt would be if he was still wearing it. One of the child’s little clawed hands comes to clutch at Din’s leg at the top of his cuisse, and then he lets out a little contented sigh.
Din remains absolutely still for several long moments, staring down at the child, arm still floating in mid-air. The child yawns and burrows deeper into Din’s side, oblivious to the complete cession of Din’s thought processes when confronted with the cutest thing he’s ever witnessed. Slowly and carefully, Din tucks his arm around the child and waits to see what the response will be.
The child coos softly, hand clenching and unclenching in the fabric of Din’s pants. Din balances his datapad in one hand and then goes back to working. Din needs to check how much ammunition he still has for his various guns, and while he’s at it, it’s probably about time for him to be checking over the condition of all his weaponry as well. He adds it to the list.
“It’s a lot of work to keep everything going, huh ad’ika ?” The child’s ears prick up when he’s addressed and he babbles sleepily. Din hums in acknowledgement.
As he continues working, he’s careful to move as little as possible. Din keeps stealing peeks down at the child, watching his eyelids dip lower and lower. After about ten minutes, the child is once again fast asleep. Din pauses to look down at him again, watching a long ear flick in his sleep. There’s a warm feeling in his chest he hasn’t felt in a long time, and a feeling of contentment washes over him.
Din knows down to his bones that he will protect this child to his dying breath.
He blinks suddenly heavy eyes and then turns back to his datapad. They still have about four standard hours before they leave hyperspace. One more note , Din thinks, and then off to bed.
Din wakes to a soft beeping from his comm unit. He reaches over to paw the alarm off, and then freezes when there’s a small shift and a sigh from his side.
He slowly looks down to find the child still asleep on his side. Din stares at the child for a long moment, but luckily he doesn’t wake.
Din pauses a moment to take stock of the situation. He’s fallen asleep in the little seating nook with the child on top of him, his datapad is flirting with the artificial gravity by poking halfway off the bench, and Din has a horrible crick in his neck. Din breathes in, rescues his datapad from its impending doom, and checks the time.
He has about ten minutes before they reach their destination, but he realizes he has a problem - namely the child asleep on top of him. Din considers the child very carefully, planning out his next steps. With all the care he can muster, Din slowly slides his arm beneath the child, scooping him up towards his chest. The child shifts but doesn’t wake.
Din then stands up as smoothly as he can, never taking his eyes off the child and freezing once more after he’s fully upright. Reassured that the child is still asleep, Din focuses on taking even steps towards his cot, the only place on his ship fit for sleeping, attempting to move the child as little as possible. Din palms the door control for his little closet of a sleeping area, and the door slides open mercifully quietly.
Din steps into the miniscule space between the door and his cot, and carefully deposits the child into his bed, sliding his arm out from underneath the child like he’s handling live explosives. The child turns over and Din goes absolutely still, but all he does is snuggle into the blankets.
Din quietly backs out of the space and slides the door mostly shut, only then allowing himself to breathe a sigh of relief and heads up towards the cockpit. He settles heavily into his seat sliding his helmet off to scrub a hand across his face and attempt to roll out the crick in his neck.
The dashboard beeps a warning and Din begins to prep for the drop back into realspace. The Razor Crest rattles a bit as the sublight engines rumble to life, and the streaks outside the viewscreen resolve into separate star-points. After considering a map of the system, Din finds a spot to set the ship down on a nearby moon, shuts down the engines, and locks everything down before returning the hold and his tiny room, shutting off the light in the hold as he goes.
He sheds his armor and his stiffer outer layers, then gets into bed, careful not to jolt the child. Din lets himself just breathe for several long moments, trying to let go of the tensions of the day. There’s a rustling noise and then a little body curls up against his chest.
Din smiles without opening his eyes, and curls an arm around the child. Din is warm, and so is the child, and there’s a sense of contentment that Din distantly remembers from his childhood.
“ Jate ca, ad’ika ,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to the crown of the child’s head, and then lets himself fall asleep.