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You're beyond thankful for anything and everything that Mando has taught you in the months you've known him and been part of his crew.
He taught you to keep both eyes open while shooting a blaster.
"You're lessening your field of vision if you close one eye."
"But...I can't help it."
"Try, cyare. Hands up again."
He taught you how to cauterize a wound.
“YOU’RE BLEEDING LIKE CRAZY NOW ISN'T THE TIME FOR A LESSON, MANDO."
"It's the perfect time."
"ARE YOU SERIOUS?"
"I've had worse, mesh'la. Now c'mon, get going. I'm starting to get dizzy."
“WHAT THE HE-"
"Kidding.”
He taught you a word or two in his language.
"Can you tell me what cyare means?”
"No."
"Hm...what about mesh'la?"
"It means 'pain in my ass'.”
"HEY."
But...he also taught you not to trust anyone. It didn't matter who they were and where you met them, they could hurt you or take the kid and that didn't exactly make it easy to accept help from strangers. It's hard to remember that some people can be good. That they don't have a hidden agenda, intel to gather, or credits to pocket. But you all were desperate. And Mando knew it. It's been almost two weeks since rations have been refilled and the scraps you've been living off have been stale, tasteless and almost non-existent. Being three moving targets didn't exactly afford you the time to stroll through the market stalls to see what fresh produce has just been delivered. That, and the fact that while nothing in the galaxy is free and nothing in the galaxy seems to be even affordable and in the outer rim it's damn near impossible to find a simple meal that wouldn't put a sizable dent in your savings. So, your're left with this. The sharp pain in your stomach hasn't let up in four days. Grogu is a growing boy and you'll be damned if you eat a crumb more than him, so you've opted to share...generously...behind Mando's back. He'd throw a fit if he knew you haven't been eating. But you have a feeling he knew. He had to catch you from tripping over your own feet more than once since landing on this planet and he felt his throat tighten when he saw how your hands were shaking when you tried to button your jacket. He had to do something.
Which is how you found yourselves sitting in front of a fireplace, thick woolen blankets on your shoulders, and warm bowls of rich stew and crusted bread in your laps. The couple were walking home from the marketplace when they passed you and your crew. It wasn't exactly your proudest moment, arguing with the Devaronian stall owner over some overpriced jerky. But you saw the last customer get the same amount for ten credits less! The asshole took one look at your Mandalorian and figured he was made of money. If only he knew.
"Twenty credits. That's the best deal you'll get around here, Mando." He shrugged, like he couldn't be bothered to continue the conversation anymore. Like he couldn't give a damn that there was an infant in your arms who hadn't eaten properly in days. He even smirked at you. The hunger pains and headache did nothing for your patience which was sparse to begin with.
"Twenty credits for four jerky strips sliced thinner than a kriffing napkin? Are your horns screwed on a bit too tight today or are you always this dim?"
His face fell and he stood up a bit straighter. He wasn't used to someone calling him out, you guessed. "If you don't like the way I run by business piss off. And I'd suggest you muzzle yourself before I show you how unreasonable I can really be.”Thankfully, someone had enough sense to step in.
"Hey, enough. We'll find something else." Mando held onto your elbow gently, tugging softly enough to start pulling you away. You knew better than to cause a scene. Than to pick a fight where a winner has already been determined before the match begun and you did it anyways. Fire was spreading underneath your face, and it burned. The stinging you felt in your eyes didn't help much either and you tried to ignore the whimper coming from the bag on your hip from a baby patiently waiting for his dinner. Mando's eyes felt like a spotlight on you even as you kept your head down. He wants to say something, wants to ask if you're alright, but he knows the answer. And if he does ask, that just might be the straw that breaks the Bantha's back. He asks anyway, and just as you're about to speak, and timid voice breaks the silence.
"Excuse me, travelers?”
You practically sing at how good the meal. The meat is actually tender and falls apart when you break it with your tongue and the smokiness and spices smell incredible. It's warm and filling and for a few seconds you honestly couldn't remember why you were so upset in the first place. Food is special like that, you suppose. Grogu seems to be over the moon. You reminded him to take smaller bites twice and end up just ripping bits of bread for him. You gave up on wiping the dribble on his chin after about five minutes of constant slurping. But he was fed and warm and snuggled into your lap and that alone almost made the tears from before actually fall. The three of you are together and safe for a moment longer. And you allow yourself to drift of and close your eyes.
Beside you, Din is reeling. He feels paralyzed, like the realization he's having is so potent it somehow became tangible and is sitting on his chest. He doesn't know how it has taken him this damn long, but he's now seeing with such clarity how much of a parent you are. How good of a parent you are. How gentle, and patient, and perfect. He also realizes how good this feels. How good if feels to know you're near and comforted and content. How good it feels to know the kid doesn't have an empty belly and tear-filled, frustrated eyes. The guilt hits him like a battering ram. How did he let this happen? How did he let it get this bad? He though the was doing the right thing by not staying in one place for longer than necessary, but he also knows he's not just looking out for himself anymore. He knows he doesn't have to bear the weight of anything alone, knows that the second he starts cracking you'll fill in the gaps, whether you're aware of it or not. He's a protector by nature. A warrior. A hunter. He's been taught how to live and breathe like one. But he's never been taught how to take care of his own clan, only operate in one. And he can't help but feel out of his depth. The sound of clattering dishes in the other room brings him back and he's standing up before he realizes it, double checking that you're still asleep. The warmth in which the older man greets him is undeserved.
"My wife made sure to pack extras for you, Mandalorian. Your partner over there told us. We hope its enough!"
"That's very kind of you. I..." The man looked up from his washing and patiently waited for Din to finish his sentence. "Thank you...for feeding my family."
Wiping his hands dry on a rag, another smile is given to him, like he knew he was thanking him for more than just the stew. "I can tell you are a good man. A family is a unit, you're meant to all care for each other. And you clearly do." As he walks past him, Din feels a hand gently touch his shoulder.
The embers glowing in the fire have dimmed but they're still warm, not enough to keep you asleep. And also not enough to stop you from hearing what Mando just said. Family. He...he called you his family. Being part of his crew was plenty but hearing him so earnestly call you and Grogu his family? You didn't know what to think. It felt right though, like a missing piece of a puzzle was finally found under the carpet. It felt like relief. You can hear him coming back in the room and almost pretend you're still asleep but you heard his voice moments before, emotive through his modulator. He feels guilty. He feels like he's doing wrong, and you can't have that. So you wait for him. After he checks on the kid, pulling his blanket a little tighter on him, he finally comes to you and kneels down to your level where you're lying on the ground.
"You should be sleeping."
"I know."
"We leave at first light."
"I know, I just..." And like the kind man did with him he patiently waits for your words. "Thank you. Thank you for taking such good care of us. I...I'm so lucky to be with you. And the kid! Both of you. I wouldn't change it for anything. I just wanted you to know that." The words make you feel brave and without thinking, you grab his hand. He's quiet for a while, but he tightens his grip on yours instantly. And with his free hand he reaches up and holds your face. Like you're something he treasures and maybe you are.
"I'll always take care of you. Both of you." You just smile at that, because you know he will. That was never even a question. Because if he has taught you anything, and he's taught you a lot, its that he cares and cares fiercely. And that's more than enough.