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You were sitting on the floor of the Razor Crest playing with Grogu when the injured Mandalorian came limping in. Fully immersed in your makeshift game of roll-the-shiny-ball-back-and-forth, you two didn’t notice right away Din making his way over. It wasn’t until a muffled voice called out your name that you looked up and gasped in surprise.
The child followed your lead, staring in shock at his father’s appearance. You tried motioning him back towards the ball, hoping to spare any worries from his little head, before quickly making our way over to Din.
Giving his state a glance over, you were slightly relieved couldn’t pinpoint any major injuries but also there were enough nicks to stain parts of his clothing. He was having a hard time just simply moving, too, leading you to believe he certainly got pushed around. This could’ve been much worse, you reminded yourself, as you thanked the galaxy for his insane armor.
"We need to get these cuts cleaned up," you said, arm-in-arm leading him to the refresher sink. Din didn’t really respond and instead seemingly blindly followed you. You frowned. That wasn’t totally normal for him. He had come back in the past with cuts that you had to practically beg him to let you clean up. (He was a grown man, he’d argue, and you’d respond with how infections don’t care how old anyone is. He would then proceed to brush it off.) Now he was being almost too compliant.
You went section by section, pulling up layers of his attire to apply water and antibacterial cleaner to the wounds. Besides the occasional shiver from the cloth hitting a cut, Din didn’t really react much. He lazily lets his hands travel to your waist but it didn’t feel very flirty like previous touches. It more felt like he was grounding himself, making sure everything was real.
He wrapped around you more as you got closer, starting to pinpoint the more internal injuries he could’ve suffered. You were guessing he was at the very least bruised in some areas. His joints seemed stiff as you went.
"Got shook up," Din eventually spoke up as he quietly watched you doctor him.
You frowned, "Yeah, love, you seem like you got tossed around there."
Wordlessly, Din rested his helmet-donning head on your shoulder. You giggled at the action, trying to push him up.
"Honey," you said, "I can’t get much done when you’re in that position."
He let out a defeated sigh and leaned back. You continued with your hunt for any cuts or (worst case scenario) stabs you had missed in your original touch up. While you couldn’t explicitly see his eyes, you knew they were following your every touch and movement.
"You’re so caring," the wounded Mandalorian said to you so softly but lovingly. Your heart fluttered at the compliment. "And motherly."
"Motherly?" You asked with a chuckle.
He nodded, "You’re great with the kid."
While these sentiments were always welcomed, he didn’t really hand them out much. His actions typically spoke louder. Hearing all this was…something else. "Alright, honey, you seem to have really gotten thrown around out there-,"
"You should be my wife," he mumbled. "Let’s get married."
All your movements halted at the words. You stared up at your dazed boyfriend, looking for body language that would reveal he was playing the greatest prank ever on you.
Your immediate reaction was to say yes — but that was the problem. What did he even mean by that? Who the hell casually says that? You two had never even discussed anything remotely like that. It was just a crazy result of crazy circumstances, you thought. He wasn’t thinking straight.
"Hmm," you sighed. "You must have a concussion."
"Pretty sure this helmet helps me avoid concussions."
"Well sounds like it didn’t do its job this time."
The silence filling the area no longer felt comfortable. Din’s entire body tensed up under your hand. You tried ignoring it and continue your treatment, but a gloved hand was gently rested up to yours, halting your movement.
You sighed, shyly watching as he intertwined your fingers, rubbing his gloved thumb over the back of your hand gingerly.
"Is that a no?"
You shook your head, unsure of what to really say. You’d give anything to be with this man you just… you didn’t exactly think he was feeling the same about you. Sure, your relationship was very much of the healthy kind but there hadn’t been many hints of taking it a step further. You didn’t let it bother you since what you had right here was lovely but just allowing yourself to consider it certainly did tug at your heartstrings.
"So, it’s a yes?" Din asked, trying to make sense of your stiff composure.
"I…" you spoke slowly, fumbling for the proper words. "I don’t think you know what you’re asking."
"I’m asking you to be my wife," he repeated. "I know what I want."
"We’ve never really discussed-,"
"I worry one day I won’t come back," he cut you off. Your brows furrowed. He didn’t seem too messed up from what you could see and sure, this wasn’t the first time — and won’t be the last, you guessed — he came back a limping mess. But you didn’t realize how much it was getting to him. "And I will have missed my chance with you."
"Honey, we are still dating," you let out a nervous chuckle. "I don’t think you’re missing anything."
"No, I want to be with you… fully," he explained. "Bear it all. Be with one another entirely."
Your heart sank. You didn’t know the full weight of his words, but you understood the steps of marriage with this Mandalorian were so much more than just some ceremony and reception. He never went into many details of the extent of his background and what he came from, but these little peaks gave you so much and made your feelings form even stronger.
He trusted you. He loved you. You wanted him fully, too.
"Okay," you finally said after probably the most daunting silence of both of your lives. "I’d love to marry you."
Din wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you into an embrace. You circled your arms around him, leaning into the welcoming hug. As you stood there, you felt one of his hands leave your waist and make its way to his helmet. You couldn’t see anything besides his back if you looked down. Softly, you heard the helmet come up and a warm kiss being placed on your shoulder. His kisses traveled up to the base of your neck and then stopped, putting the helmet back down and proceeding to disconnect you two.
"Soft," he mumbled, bringing his hand to rub his thumb on your cheek. You blushed deeply at his action and fought back your school girl giggle.
"We should finish cleaning you up," you said, choosing to ignore the butterflies rushing around in you. "Then it’s off to bed. You really need the rest, honey."
Din nodded in silent agreement. "Will you be there?"
"Yes," you chuckled, "we can nap."
"And the kid?" He asked. You cocked your head, questioning. "In his spot? I just want us to be together. All of us."
All of us. Family. While he wasn’t going to outright say it yet, you knew in your heart what he was implying and it delighted you to no end. It certainly was a makeshift family but you couldn’t imagine yourself in any other position.
Looking back at the child who had totally missed everything, still focused on the metal ball, you responded, "Sure. All of us."