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He was completely out of his depth.
Grogu was by no means a difficult kid, really, but Cobb felt he was a little in the deep end of the dune trying to predict the next move of a force sensitive toddler that was barely younger than he was.
Din'd just gone to buy something- paint, Cobb thought he had said? And asked Cobb to look after the kid.
Simple, he'd said. He'll go down for a nap at sunhigh, he'd said.
Yeah, well. Too many suns were shining on this womprats tail, Cobb thought as he stood watching the kid trace trails in the sand.
He'd been at it a few minutes - giggling at the graind shifting back into place, and force tracing patterns into it. It was a little freaky to see the little terror screw up his face like a human baby would for a nappy change and see the ground move instead. But Cobb was dealing with it
He crouched down next to the baby. "Hey, what're you drawin'?" Not that the kid probably understood him.
The kid leaned back, almost tripping on his robe-thing. Didn't Mando have anything better for the desert for him?
He cooed, pointing one clawed finger at the sand. It had one definitive point, swooping down to form a boxy shape at the bottom. It almost looked like-
Cobb stole a glance at the heap of armour resting on his couch, still to be cleaned and covered in dragon bile. On the top, rested one of the silver pauldrons, horned creature's symbol glinting.
"Your dad, huh?" Or so he assumed. "You'll see him in a bit. He just needed to rest a while." Mando'd looked dead on his feet, had barely argued Cobb from pushing him into the bed.
The kid sat down with a harrumph.
"Yeah, I know. I miss him too." He did, surprisingly. Mando wasn't great conversation, but Cobb found himself drawn to him. Hung onto his every word like he'd hung the stars in the sky. He might as well have, for all that he'd saved the town.
Cobb scoffed. "He do this often, then? Save some backway town like an old knight in shining armour, snd charm all the hearts out the locals?" He hadnt felt this dumb of a crush in years.
And he'd had to share a tent with him the night with the Tuskens.
It wasn't like he was about to get buddy buddy with a Tusken, but sitting back-to-back with Mando all night before like literal fight of his life , listening to him snore and feeling the warmth from his body and, smelling how good he somehow smelt even after a full day in the desert-
Lets just say, it wouldn't have been his first choice.
And now he was stuck, really. Because now the man trusted him, with his armour and with his kid.
Cobb wasn't sure where to go from there.
Well, probably make sure the kid didn't eat sand, he thought as he scrambled forwafd to pull the little hand away.
"That is not for eating." He attemped stern. It came out more sarcastic.
The kid just looked at him as though he was mad. Then shoved his hand faster towards his mouth.
" No-" Cobb grabbed at him, scooping him into his arms. "Lets find something else to eat, huh?" Something a kid could have, something he could chew on.
Cobb walked back to the kitchen, rifling through his cupboards. It was a little sad. Though, a brightly coloured bag beckoned from the back of the top cupboard, and he stretched to see what it was.
"You ever have marshmallow before, kid?"
"Pbleurgh," said the child, intelligently.
Cobb nodded as though he'd said something profound.
"Alright. Well, we can change that." He tucked the kid under his arm a little more securely, then reached in and grabbed the bag.
There were still a few marshmallows in there, and he pulled one out for the lid to munch on as he pulled out a chair.
He set the kid in front of him, on the table, and sank into his chair. At some point - a while ago, now - he'd invested in proper dining chairs with proper lumbar support and cushioning, and it felt like plonking his ass into clouds.
"You can eat it, yknow." He was just staring at it, claws gently pressing in. His ears twitched up at Cobbs voice, but he didnt stop his examination.
Finally, he took a little nibble from the side. Then, a bigger nibble. He turned his gaze up to Cobb, eyes huge and wide, paused just a second-
And shoved the entire thing in his mouth.
Cobb lunged forward again. "Hey, hey, no-" This was supposed to not be a choking hazard-
It was too late. The kid just beamed up at him.
Cobb sighed. "Fine. But if you choke, it'll be your dad who's disappointed in you."
He handed him another marshmallow. This one disappeared just as quickly, and Cobb winced at the lump in the baby's throat.
"What are ya, some kind o' predator?" Je certainly acted like it. "Hey, actually-"
You couldnt choke on a liquid. Well, not nearly as easily.
Cobb got up, quickly checked to see if the kid was steady on the table, then quickly went round to his own pile of armour. Well, not really his, but. Near enough.
He picked up the left vambrace and slid it on his arm. Mando had said he could have it around until he left, so what was one more use?
Mando had used a flamethrower at the Tusken camp, by pushing his wrist out a certain way. Cobb'd studied his wrists after that little... show, not for much reason. Except to notice the orange tipped gloves, and the nervous tapping of fingers that seemed the only tell of the man's real feelings.
And to notice the small notch on the top of his vambrace, the one identical to Cobb's own.
The one that he'd thought was a dent .
Munching away happily, the kid was fairly happy to be picked up and carried outside again. Cobb placed him on the doorstep, and took a few paces away.
Holding up a marshmallow, he took aim with the vambrace. Mando had managed to rev it up, when he'd set a fire for then later on. More of a gentle flame.
Cobb squeezed his fist gently. Nothing happened. He shook his hand out, taking a ready stance.
This time, he jerked his wrist forward, and clenched his fist. There was a tiny clunk.
A huge roar of flame shot out of his vambrace, torching the poor marshmallow and-
Shit, shit, torching him too-
Cobb yelped as flames enveloped his wrist licking their way up his sleeve. The marshmallow dropped to the floor - forgotten - in his haste to rip off the vambrace and whack the fire out of his shirt
The vambrace clanked loudly to the floor and Cobb swore at the pain lancing up his arm. A sound from behind him made him whirl around.
The kids eyes were huge and fearful.
"It's- its alright-" he hissed, trying to keep from yelling again. Fuck , that hurt.
Peeling his sleeve up felt like peeling his skin off. Risking a peek at his arm, he didn't get bery far before having to stare at the sky to stave off nausea. It was raw.
He'd had some burns. Stars knew slave owners cared more about outputs than slave sunburn. But very rarely had he had anything so exact and deep. He could feel it like electricity in his bones.
"Whats going o- What happened to your arm?" A modulated voice cut through his wheezing.
Cobb tried to not to let the strain bleed into his voice. "Well, uh. I was just. Roasting a marshmallow for your sprout, here." He needed to get something on it. Preferably a new arm.
Mando stepped a little closer, wary. "And you decided to use a flame thrower?"
"Well I wasn't- Actually, I need to treat this. I don't need a lecture." He pushed past Mando and the kid - when had he picked the baby up? - and stumbled his way into the 'fresher.
Rooting around his cabinet one-handed, he heard heavy bootfalls behind him.
"Hey, hey. Vanth. Take a breath. What do you need?" Mando had such a nice voice. That's the pain talking, Cobb.
The excuse sounded weak even in his own head.
"The, the med-pack." He sat on the toilet seat, sucking in a breath. "Green, at the back. Should have some bacta."
Cobb just focused on the wall - not his rapidly purpling arm - as Mando rummaged in the cabinet.
"This one?" Mando was kneeling in front of him, waving the pack in his face.
He nodded. "Yeah, just let me get one of the pouches on-"
Mando snorted. Or at least, Cobb thought he did. It sounded more like a malfunction.
"Good luck getting it open with one hand." His tone softened. "Look, let me help."
Oh. That was nice. Wordlessly, Cobb offered up his wrist. Mando took is gently, turning it up and down to survey the damage. Cobb fixed his eyes to the wall again.
He heard the sounds of a bacta gel packet being opened, and then Mando was speaking again.
"It's not your fault, really. That flamethrower has no buffer on it." Cobb felt the cooling spread of bacta on the outside of his wrist and resisted the urge to sigh. "Mine has a grate, it lets me decide the strength."
Cobb opened his mouth to complain, but then shut it with a snap at the feeling of-
Bare fingers, smoothing gel across the inside of his wrist. Cobb stared down at the naked hand of the Mandalorian.
"-And its useful,really, for blowtorchin- Are you alright?" His fingers came to rest on Cobb's pulse point. "Your heart is going very fast."
His hands were so broad. And tan, for spending all their time in gloves. The only scars were small knuckle splits, and Cobb could feel the warmth of his touch through his wrist.
Wait. He'd been asked a question.
"Yeah, I'm just peachy, chief." Chief? " Its uh, the fight, y'know. Adrenaline." Fight against putting Mando's hand on his face, more like.
"Fight against a marshmallow? Thought you were fierce, marshall." Cobb could barely breathe. Mando's thumbs were massaging his wrist now, soothing away the hurt.
He dragged his eyes away. "The dragon, dumbass. You got to nap. I got babysitting." The words came out sharp. He regretted it immediately.
The thumbs stopped. "Sorry. If you weren't olay with it, you should have said something." Now you've put your boot in it, Vanth-
He reached out and gripped Mando's shoulder. "No, I meant- Just need to sleep. My heads full o' sand." Gods, Mando must be strong. His shoulder had less give than a rock.
Mando shrugged. "Had something of a long day, haven't we. 'S'alright." He was stroking down Cobb's wrist now. Cobb wasnt sure it was strictly necessary.
"Yeah, we have." He could feel the hurt melting away. "Say, what did you do with the kid?" He hadn't just let him wander, had he?
"Set him loose on your bookshelf." At Cobb's horrified look, he backpedaled. "Kidding, I'm kidding , it just doesnt come through the helmet well - he's tucked up in blankets in your room."
Cobb relaxed. He could wash sheets. He couldn't unshred books. His wrist felt a whole lot better, now, and he was entering the slight haze of after an injury.
Mando's hands were still warm on his wrist. Cobb slid his hand down, intertwined his fingers. He held on, tightened for just a second. They fit together perfectly.
Then he sighed, clapped Mando on the shoulder again and stood up.
And only swayed a little.
"I disturbed you from you nap, right?" He didn't really need to ask. Mando's clothes were all rumpled. "I think we could all use some more winks. Beds big enough for both of us."
To his surprise, Mando nodded, pulling his gloves back on. Cobb already missed his touch. "After you."
Noone minded sharing a bed on Tattooine. If Mandalorians were as clan-nish as Mando implied, it was probably similar for them.
And as Cobb felt Mando's breaths even out again, warm back to warm back, he tried to grasp again, the feeling of Mando's fingers between his.