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Lean on me

Summary:

Listen this is just what I think would happen after chapter 16 with you and Din. Also I just needed to write this so I could stop crying about that damn episode and at least imagine that someone is giving that man a damn hug.

Notes:

Sorry to anyone waiting on my other unfinished fics, I just needed to get this out of my system after watching that episode. Also can someone please give Pedro Pascal (the love of my life) an Emmy because the acting in this season has been crazy.

 

All characters are owned by Disney.
Also Cara Dune is briefly mentioned in this fic so for the record I'd like to say Fuck Gina Carano, we don't tolerate transphobia on this page. :)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The hotel room was dusty but it would do. You were so grateful for Cara finding you a place after Boba had dropped you off back at Nevarro to regroup and work out what’s next. She’d seen that you both needed some space after the silence of the journey home and after a few goodbyes she’d shooed you into a small hotel and assured you it was yours as long as you need it. How long that would be you had no idea, you had no idea what would happen next, you just knew you needed sleep and Din. He had barely looked at you, let alone spoken but you didn’t mind. He needed his space just like you wanted yours. You scanned the small room, the double bed against the wall to the left, the sandy walls, the old rust covered window frames showing the darkness outside and reflecting back. You’d never looked more exhausted than the reflection staring back at you, mentally and physically, you couldn’t handle another stressful event.

You looked over at Din, also stood scanning the room by your side and nodded your head to the ‘fresher door before heading in and leaving him alone for a moment. You took off your top layer of clothing, a utility belt with your blaster, your boots and your jacket, showing the same clothes you’d been wearing for days since you’d lost the Razor Crest. Another thing you’d have to address in the morning. You ran your hands through your hair, detangling it slightly with your fingers and then splashing some cool water onto your skin. Resting your palms on the sink you looked up into the smudgy round mirror and into the raw eyes staring back at you. It was a lot to process even though you’d known this day would eventually come, you knew you’d both made the right choice but it still felt like one of your limbs was missing or that all of the warmth from your little family had suddenly left your heart. I need to keep it together for Din, you thought, rocking back on your heels as you rubbed your palms over your eyes and sniffed back the threatening tears. Your Riduur rarely showed emotion around others, the shock of seeing him take of his helmet for his son had struck you so deeply you’d forgotten to breathe but it just made it all the more clear how much support he needed now and you thanked any god out there that he wasn’t doing it alone.

Opening the refresher door and stepping back into the room you caught sight of him in the darkness, sat on the end of the bed, helmetless, head in his hands. He looked up when he saw the refresher light and red rimmed eyes stared back up at you. His brown curls were rustled from the helmet and he’d taken off his gloves so you could see his worn hands. He looked so small, like the child the Mandolorian’s must have found all those years ago. It broke your heart. You crossed to him in three strides, climbed into his lap and wrapped your limbs around him, bringing one hand to rest at the back of his head stroking his hair as it rested on your chest. He curled around you immediately, clutching at the back of your clothes as the sobs from his chest quietly made their mark across your collarbone. You would do anything for this man and the pain you were sharing was breaking you in half. You held him closely until his breathing eventually evened out, stroking his hair and rubbing small circles with your thumb across any break in beskar.

His head lifted up and you rested against him, forehead to forehead, the breathing of this small space the only things breaking the deafening silence of your loss.

“Did I do the right thing?” He whispered, his voice low and hoarse.

“Yes Din, you did the right thing.” You leaned back slightly, kissing his forehead. You’d keep on telling him this, keep on supporting him, keep on letting him lean as long as he needed until the ache got easier.

Notes:

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