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You think you're done for as soon as the side of your head makes contact with the rock. The pain in your body is excruciating. How can it be so dull and so sharp at the same time? The pang in your side— it’s sharp. Continual and constant, like the pointed tip of the blade is repeatedly slicing through your flesh, even though you know it’s gone. There’s the ache in your chest and around your ribs, and the pounding in your head is dull but ever-present.
You think you hear Mando’s blaster and the attacker’s body fall to the ground, but everything is hazy. He rushes over to you and kneels on the ground. It’s wet and warm and he realizes he knelt in your blood.
“Dank ferrik,” he huffs. Your eyes begin to flutter closed but the distinct outline of your Mandalorian hovering over you makes you feel safe. “Don’t close your eyes. Stay with me.” His modulated voice is tender but urgent.
“H-hurts,” you push out, squeezing your eyes tightly. (Doing the exact opposite of what Mando told you not to do).
“I know, starlight. Just try to keep your eyes on me.”
Starlight. Starlight? Is that a term of endearment? He’s never called you that before. You might be slipping in and out of consciousness but you know what you heard. Starlight.
“You look horrible,” Mando follows up.
You’re pretty sure you’re dying and this is what he chooses to comfort you with? You want to laugh but it hurts. It all kriffing hurts. “You… you should s-see the other guy.”
“He’s dead.”
“Exactly,” you slur. Your lips quirked up into a small smile until you feel a sting in your lower lip. You try bringing your hand up to your mouth, but the effort is unsuccessful.
Mando needs to assess your injuries but he doesn’t even know where to start. The gash on your forehead, the blade wound in your slide, your split lip, and your puffy eye. His chest tightens at the sorry sight of you. He should’ve never left you alone on the streets of Coruscant. But he did and now you’re both paying the price. You, physically, and him, mentally.
The cut on your head is superficial. There isn’t much he can do about your lip and your eye. It is the stabbing injury that concerns him the most. Since the attacker removed his blade, you are losing a significant amount of blood. It has completely saturated the right side of your shirt and the ground beneath the two of you. Mando needs a plan of action and he needs one quickly if he’s going to keep you conscious.
Apply pressure to the wound. Mando tears off a long piece of his cape and wraps it underneath you, tying it tightly. He then moves to the other side and scoops you up, pressing his hand against your wound for extra pressure.
“Owww,” you drawl. Your head starts feeling light and your eyelids are terribly heavy. But it’s good that you’re reacting to him. It means he hasn’t lost you yet.
“Put your arms around my neck. Can you do that, starlight?” Mando has already begun a quick pace toward the Crest. Your head rests against the cool pauldron on Mando’s shoulder, and it relieves some of the pain from your cut. You weakly manage to sling one arm around Mando, holding onto his cowl as tightly as you can. It hurts to breathe but he smells good. Like sweat and musk and him. It’s grounding you, keeping you on this plane with him. You’ve never been so close to him. So weak and so vulnerable.
You’re quiet under Mando’s grasp but he can still feel the expanding of your ribs when you breathe. “You with me? We’re almost at the ship.”
You’re conscious. You know because you deliberately close your eyes to keep out the bright lights of the bustling cosmopolitan planet. “‘M here,” you mutter.
You decide that you want him to hold you forever. You fit snuggly and perfectly in his strong arms. It’s not the most comfortable thing being pressed up against beskar, but you wonder how wonderful it would be to lay on his broad chest, kiss his sturdy shoulders, and nuzzle into his neck. You feel like your head is turning to mush when you think you should’ve gotten hurt ages ago if it meant being held by The Mandalorian.
Mando fiddles with the controls on his vambrace and before you know it, you hear his heavy boots clink against the ramp of the ship. He slams the door control with his fist and gently lays you on the cool ground. The duality of your Mandalorian fascinates you.
“Be right back, starlight. Gotta grab the medkit. Stay awake, okay?”
“Mmkay,” you roll your head on the floor and look around the ship to refamiliarize yourself with your surroundings. The pain all around your body makes you feel unsure about a lot of things. Is Mando actually calling you something resembling a pet name? Are you actually back on the ship, away from all the slime and grime that makes up the streets of Coruscant?
You are staring at your bedroll when Mando comes back to you. He was probably gone for no more than 3 seconds, given the medkit is only a few steps away. He kneels by your side and unties the fabric of his cape. You hear him sigh as he opens the medkit. You know he feels guilty you got hurt. He always tells you to watch your surroundings, to be careful. And you always tell him you’ll be fine, you can take care of yourself. And usually, you can. Today was just not one of those days.
“Need to lift up your shirt, okay? Need to see what we’re working with.” Mando’s gloved fingers sneak beneath your woven shirt, brushing against your skin as he does so. You nod lazily, which is all the permission he needs to push the fabric up your torso. With all the blood you’re losing, it is difficult to see the exact location of your wound. He grabs all of the gauze from the kit, making a mental note that he needs to restock the next time he gets supplies. As the gauze absorbs and sops up as much of your blood as it can, Mando pulls off his gloves to see if he can get a feel of your incision. You inhale sharply when his fingers find the outline of it.
“ Sorry, mesh’la.” He reaches for the cauterizer.
“S’okay,” you mumble. “J-just close me up. ‘M not feelin’ so great.” Blacking out seems like such a nice escape from all the pain. Your swollen eye is almost entirely shut, anyway.
“It’s going to sting a bit.” Mando pinches your skin together, joining the seams of what was once a complete and untorn canvas. “Scream if you have to.”
He doesn’t even give you a grace period to prepare you for the stinging, zapping, burning sear of the cauterizer on your skin. “GAH!” You yelp, back arching and heels digging into the floor of the ship. That’s the most response you’ve given Mando all night. It’s a good sign.
“I know, starlight, I know it hurts.” He knows it hurts because you’ve mended him with the same tool at least five times now. It’s a utilitarian tool he didn’t have on board before you joined and now it’s the second-best thing Mando has.
“How do you not have a cauterizer on board?” You asked him when you were taking inventory of his medical supplies.
Mando shrugged. “Haven’t had a need for one.”
“You’re telling me you’ve never come back to your ship battered and bloodied with no one to tend to your wound and never wished you had a cauterizer to quickly and efficiently stop your bleeding?”
He shrugged again. There had actually been several times… perhaps you were right. He should get a cauterizer. “Well, now I have you.”
“Try to stay still,” Mando brings you back to the present. Zzz; Zzz. The cauterizer zaps rhythmically, sending up wisps of smoke and the burnt smell of blood. It’s putrid. You can’t decide which is worse: all the kriffing pain you’re in, or Mando seeing you like this— weak, vulnerable, injured and being roasted like a piece of meat at the market. The latter. Definitely the latter.
“You’re doing so well, starlight. Almost done,” Mando praises while gently wiping the remaining blood from the incision.
You take a slow and steady breath and you brace for the next shock against your skin. Maybe talking to him will get your mind off the pain. But words feel so heavy on your tongue. It takes so much energy to move your lips in a way that forms words. You try anyway. “B-being so— ow!” A line forms between your brows. “S’nice to me.”
“Shh, save your strength,” Mando hushes you, running his hand along the soft skin of your stomach. Although he is gentle, you wince when he reaches the other side of your ribs. With the blossoming of bruises, he wonders if you didn’t break a couple of ribs. “Sorry, starlight.”
There’s that name again. How many times has he called you that tonight? You aren’t imagining it, are you? Starlight. His inflection is soft, but also hesitant every time he says it. Like he’s just testing it out. No better time to be calling you something other than your name when you probably won’t remember in the morning.
The cauterizer had effectively stopped your bleeding, so now Mando can tend to your other wounds. And he needs to get you out of your blood-soaked clothes. “Be right back. Gonna get fresh clothes and a wet cloth.”
When Mando leaves, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. There’s still an ache in your chest, but there’s something else there. A warmth. Bright and overwhelming. You suck in another breath when Mando returns with some sleep clothes and a cloth in a small bowl of water. “Can I… can I undress you, starlight?”
“Mhm,” you hum gently. He’s being so sweet. Is he always this sweet? He’s moving hesitantly and tenderly. In no way does he want to take advantage of your current state or hurt you any more than you already are. Leaving you alone on Coruscant has done enough damage.
Mando grasps your wrist, placing your arms over your head. His skin against yours sends electric currents through you— the cauterizer barely holding a candle to the way his touch makes you feel. He slowly starts to lift off your shirt, pausing before he goes over your breasts. He closes his eyes and blindly removes your shirt. He feels around for what he hopes is your sleep shirt and continues to dress you with his eyes closed. Of course, you don’t know that his eyes are closed and you’re too loopy to notice that he sticks your arm through the head hole at first.
He then removes your pants and slides on a new pair much easier than he did your shirt. Then, he crosses his legs and gently takes your head into his lap. He dabs the cloth over the gash on your forehead. It stopped bleeding, so he’s just removing any dirt and debris that might’ve caused an infection. He places a Bacta patch over your wound and you muster all your strength to wrap your hand around his wrist. Despite your head being in haze, you know one thing is clear.
“L-love…”
What did you just say? Your voice is so fragile and quiet, Mando’s not completely sure he knows what you uttered. It sounded like ‘love’. But that can’t be right.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, starlight. You get some rest now.” He scoops you up again, conscious of all of your bruises, and walks you over to the bunk.
“Mm,” you hum as he places you down on his bed. The Bacta patch is starting to kick in. The haze is beginning to disappear. “Stay with me?”
Mando wants nothing more than to stay with you. What he wouldn’t give to lay down in that bed beside you and hold you close and tight in his arms as if it is the only thing that will heal your wounds. “Let me get the ship in the air. I’ll be back.”
You yawn, “‘kay.” Your head is sinking into the pillow, but you call for Mando once more.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
He hears you loud and clear. His heart bursts before it sinks to his feet. He just can’t let himself be happy, can he? You are in such a dazed, pain-filled, drowsy state of mind. You most likely don’t even know what you’re saying. “Tell me again tomorrow.”
When you wake up, you’re surrounded by unfamiliar bedding. You feel like you’re suffocating in the small space. Are you… are you in Mando’s bunk? You shoot up quickly and then groan. Your hand goes up to where your blade wound is. Everything comes back to you.
“I love you.”
“Tell me again tomorrow.”
Dank ferrik. You told The Mandalorian you love him. And he didn’t say it back. He told you to tell him tomorrow. He probably thought you wouldn’t remember. But you remember it all. The attack, being stabbed, being punched, and hitting your head on your way down. You remember the tear of his cape and it wrapped around your body. You remember clinging to his cowl and the pressure he was holding to slow your bleeding. You remember being on the cold floor of the Razor Crest and Mando’s warm hands. His bare hands.
Then you asked him to stay with you. He said he would be back. Did he come back? Did he sleep with you? Hold you in his arms? Why don’t you remember that part?
And then there was that name.
Starlight.
Starlight, starlight, starlight.
You shimmy out of Mando’s bunk and hobble up the ladder. Before you reach the control panel, Mando has already opened it, seemingly waiting for you on the other side.
“I was just coming to check on you. How are you feeling?” He hates the way you look. He hates himself for letting you look the way you do. The swelling in your eye has gone down, but it’s as bruised as ever. He should remove the Bacta patch to see how the gash is looking. And he should check the bruising on your ribs and make sure the blade wound is going to heal alright.
“The thing… you told me to tell you tomorrow.” You ignore his question. It’s now or never, you think. You said it last night and he gave you the perfect opportunity to say it again. He wouldn’t tell you to tell him tomorrow if he didn’t want you to say it. Right? “Well, I presume it’s tomorrow. So…”
You stare into the onyx of his T-Visor. Ideally, you’d be looking him in the eyes. It wouldn’t make any difference knowing what he looks like, though. You love him whether his eyes are blue, hazel, or brown. You love him whether he has blonde, brown, or black hair; curly, frizzy, or straight hair. You love him when he’s grumpy, you love him when he’s a little more talkative than normal. You love him when he sasses you, you love him when he takes care of him You just love him. Everything about him makes your heart swell.
“I still love you.” “I…” Mando says one word and panic washes over you. Shit. You didn’t think about what he would say back. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t want you. But then, clear in affection, fuzzy in transmission, he replies back: “I love you too, starlight.”