Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A TIE-fighter whizzed overhead, its screeching sound almost deafening as it fired its laser canons at their position. Din was barely aware of the bolts as they fell from the sky in a deadly hailstorm, hitting the ground nearby and sending clumps of dirt flying. The acrid scent of discharging blasters filled the air, even through the filters of his helmet. The smoky tang of the oil used to keep their weapons functioning filled the air across what had become their battlefield. Breaking cover from behind a rock, he fired several well-aimed shots at the group of Imps closest to his position, sending them crumbling to the ground.

Three down. Dozens to go.

Dank farrik, this was a mess.

They’d only come to Celanon for what Bo had billed as a summit of like-minded worlds to discuss the unfair apportioning of funds by the Senate to Outer Rim worlds. What else they were doing there, he simply hadn’t cared to find out. That was Bo’s job. His had been to pretend to be her security, and then to slink off to find the Imps that Teva suspected had been operating out of the darkened alleyways around the Diplomatic sector. Teva hadn’t been wrong. As soon as he’d found them, a typical shootout had ensued, but he’d quickly overpowered the few Troopers there were and made sure their base was destroyed. Considering his job done, Din had headed back to the building where Bo was conducting her summit, only to see TIEs drop from above the clouds like Ginntho spiders cornering their prey. The kriffing Imps had called for backup.

Bo’s voice had crackled through on his comm. “What happened?”

“Slight issue with my diplomatic skills.”

“You think?!”

There’d been no time for recriminations as he’d watched the Imps piloting TIEs begin fire on the city indiscriminately, and shuttle ships carrying more troopers fly low to land beyond the city’s high walls. Unable to stomach the idea of any citizens suffering for the chaos he’d created, Din had run through the streets, shouting at sentients to take cover as far underground as they could manage before he’d ignited his jetpack and had flown towards the fields outside the city limits. That had had the intended effect. The Imps had immediately been drawn to the fabled Mandalorian who’d taken out their comrades, firing on him as he’d landed next to a deep, rock-lined ditch that separated the agricultural land from the forests that sprawled beyond. No sooner had he done so then he’d heard the familiar sound of jetpacks, and seconds later, Bo and the rest of their team had dropped out of the sky to join him.

From there, the battle had begun, and now Din was in the thick of it. On the one hand, he was battling the Imps he’d been sent here to deal with, and on the other, he was trying not to let the fact that Bo wasn’t at his side distract him from the task at hand. That was no mean feat. Unlike so many times before, they hadn’t come to this planet expecting a fight. Teva’s intel had only indicated a small cell of troopers working for the Remnant, and Bo was supposed to be at a peaceful summit; the only shootout that should have occurred was the one he’d already undertaken in the back alleys. She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in all of this, and yet he’d dragged her into it with his carelessness.

Darting back behind cover, he tried to seek her out through the smoke from the ceaseless blasts that rained down on them from the TIEs above. But the chaos of the moment prevented him from picking out her familiar owl face-plate. Dank farrik, he should have kept her in his line of sight! Of course, Bo could handle herself, of that he was acutely aware, but she hadn’t been prepared for a fight. Unlike him, she was relatively unarmed. Din was never more keenly aware that his pledge to her was at risk than at this moment. All because he’d failed to take into account all variables. Putting himself between her and the Imp was his job; she was his Mand’alor for kriff’s sake, and he didn’t even know where she’d disappeared to in the haze.

Initially, she’d been at his side, but a well-placed series of blasts from the TIEs screeching above had forced them to separate. It was only sensible to make themselves as difficult a target to hit as possible, especially on the open battlefield. But it had been hours of only hearing her voice on frantic comms while exchanging furious fire with seemingly never-ending numbers of Imps, and he couldn’t concentrate without knowing her position. Peaking around the side of the rock, he shot at three Troopers who were busy setting up the heavy, repeating blaster cannon, forcing them to drop the weapon to the ground before their bodies joined it.

Satisfied there wouldn’t be any heavy fire for a moment, Din sat back against the rock and flicked through the settings on his visor, finding the one that sought heat signatures and glanced to his side. There were Mandalorian signatures dotted all along the ridge of the ditch, each one focused on the Imps who’d retreated into the treeline. But where was Bo? Quickly, he checked each one until he found the signature dual-wielding their blasters only a few feet from his position. There were a pair of Nite Owls situated between them, but Bo was still close by. As another TIE tore through the skies overhead, it cleared the smoke covering the battlefield to reveal her taking cover behind a hastily discarded farmer’s cart.

Thank the Fates.

Resetting his visor, Din left cover once more to fire at several Imps who were taking aim at Bo from her blind spot, easily picking them off with precision. Over the next few minutes, he focused on doing the same: taking out Imps and desperately hoping that the distress call they’d sent out to any Mandalorian ships in the sector would be answered. But as more TIEs filled the sky, blasting craters perilously close to their positions, it didn't feel like help was coming. Old habits from years of working alone were hard to break. He'd been in too many situations where it was up to him alone to get himself out of them. But the missions he'd been on since the reclamation should have told him not to doubt his brothers-in-arms. Kom'rk fighters soared through the cloud cover, blasting the TIEs and his doubts to pieces with practised ease.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Din turned his focus back to the battle, firing on the Imps with renewed vigour. Now that reinforcements were here, he knew that he could ignore the threat from above and focus on the white-helmeted mudscuffers who were using the trees for cover. Glancing to his side, he made sure his Mand’alor wasn’t in need of assistance. As expected, Bo was simply picking off those firing at her with practised ease. No need for him to interfere. Refocusing, he sought out the Imps to his right and took out yet another trio attempting to set up a repeating heavy blaster, this time hidden amongst the bushes that lined the other side of the ditch. For what should have been a small Remnant outpost, they sure seemed to have a lot of heavy weaponry to hand. Had Teva’s intel missed this, or was the Remnant getting craftier in hiding their activities?

Checking on Bo again, Din turned his head just in time to see her dart out of cover, firing both her blasters in quick succession at the Imps retreating into the forest. Then, as if to spite the tide of the battle turning in their favour, a series of events began to unfold that made time seem to slow.

From the corner of his visor, half hidden by the overgrowth on the other side of the ditch, he spotted the white plastisteel of an Imp attempting to aim through it unnoticed. He barely had time to register the Imp’s position before he saw the glint of the tip of a phase pulse blaster poking out of the brush, and the terrifying sound of the weapon charging up before it was shot directly at Bo. A shimmering blue pulse shot across the field before it hit her cuirass, straight over the kar’ta, sending her flying backwards.

Din watched in horror as she hit the ground hard, a good ten feet from her original position, the soft ground buckling under her, creating long divots in the earth before her body came to a stop. No, no, no. Shock and rage welled in him simultaneously, warring and roiling in his gut almost to the point of nausea. This couldn’t be happening!  Darting out from behind cover, he fired at the Imp who’d shot at Bo, killing them with two neat shots to the head before diving towards where his fallen Mand’alor lay. Distantly, he heard himself call her name, broken and desperate, nothing like the easy, affectionate way it fell from his lips. Skidding in the grass next to her, Din shielded her body with his as the Nite Owls that had been closest to them provided covering fire.

Frantically, he began to check her over, trying to find signs she was still breathing. There was no blood, no outside sign that she’d even been hit, but Bo was still, almost deathly so, and it wasn’t helping him focus. Din knew what pulse blasters could do. They were dangerous weapons, especially in the wrong hands. He would know; he used to have one after all. The fact that Bo was still in one piece told him that the weapon hadn’t been on its highest setting. If it had, she would have been disintegrated instantly, and that didn’t bear thinking about. Still, to send her this far back in one hit meant the Imp had had it set high, and there was every chance the force of the impact had killed her anyway.

Nausea rolled through his gut. He didn’t even want to think of the possibility, but the excess adrenaline coursing through him was quickly giving way to panic. Din’s hands shook as he tried to check her vitals using the system on her vambraces, but no luck – the pulse had fried the circuits. She can’t die, she can’t, repeated over and over in his mind with increasing desperation as the sounds of the battle raged on around them. Bolts were bouncing off his cuirass, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was finding out if Bo still lived. Yet there was very little he could do to check. To find her pulse, he would need to remove her helmet or her vambraces, and he didn’t know how to do all of it safely. She needed a medic — fast.

But there were still so many Imps firing at their position, and Din felt himself torn between wanting to stay at her side, protecting her as he’d sworn to do, and wanting to walk across the battlefield to blast those troopers clean into the stratosphere for what they’d done. But his comm sounded in his ear, preventing him from doing what he wanted.

“Skies are clear of TIEs, and their troop shuttles are destroyed. There’ll be no more Imps landing. What else can we do to assist you guys?”

Pulling himself together, Din took in a deep breath before he responded, “Mand’alor Kryze has been hit. I need you to land close to our position to facilitate a medevac.”

“Understood,” came the reply. “Give us covering fire and we’ll get her and the other wounded out of here.”

Kom’rk engines roared overhead as the Mandalorian piloting it skilfully positioned it behind them as the Imps opened a new round of fire. Throwing his body over Bo’s, Din felt the downdraft of its thrusters whip at his cape, jostling the grass around Bo’s still unmoving form, as he waited for the boarding ramp to lower. As soon as the ramp hit the ground, a whole troop of Mandalorians came barrelling out, firing at the Imps behind him, swiftly followed by a pair with a repulsor gurney who ran directly to his position. Reluctantly, Din moved away from Bo, allowing the two Mandalorians to begin their work as the others provided covering fire. He watched uselessly as they checked her over before they secured a collar around her neck beneath her helmet and gingerly shifted her onto the gurney.

“You’ll take her straight back to Mandalore?” he demanded desperately as he followed them towards the ship. “You’ll make sure she’ll get the treatment she needs?”

“Of course,” a blonde woman in red-and-green beskar replied loudly over the din as blaster bolts pinged off the durasteel around them, perilously too close for comfort. “We’ll get her to Mandalore as quickly as we can.” Confusion crossed her face momentarily.  “You’re not joining us? She’ll want to know where you are.” 

Though it pained him, Din shook his head. “This is my mess. I need to finish it.”

The Mandalorian nodded and saluted him with a fist to her chest before Bo’s gurney was quickly pushed onto the ship and out of sight. Stepping back, Din moved out of the radius of the Kom’rk’s thrusters and watched the boarding ramp close. Letting her leave without him felt like someone had taken a vibro-knife to his chest. He desperately wished he could go with her and stay at her side as he’d promised to do. But there was still a battle to be won, and he had to atone for the damage he’d caused.

As soon as the ship had lifted off the ground, shooting out of the atmosphere and back to the safety of Mandalore, Din’s attention returned to the chaos around him. With Bo no longer his sole focus, the sounds of the battle around him came back in a rush. Blaster bolts pinged off his armour with little metallic tinks as the calls of fellow Mandalorians echoed in his ears, desperately trying to get him to take cover, all while heavy bootsteps on soft earth thundered on either side of the ditch, and TIEs screeched overhead. Dank farrik, in his haste to get Bo off this kriffing planet, he’d forgotten about the shootout entirely. Readying his blaster, Din scanned the other side of the ditch for his next target, but the glint of the now discarded pulse blaster caught his eye. Fury welled up inside him at the sight of the weapon that had struck Bo down, and with the weight of everything bearing down on him, Din felt something inside snap.

Opening fire on any Imp that came into view, he mercilessly began taking them down one by one as he stalked unflinchingly across the divide. Each blaster bolt that ricocheted off his beskar barely registered in his mind. Not even the direct hit he took to the side of his thigh made him stumble. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Only Bo mattered, and if they had killed her — if he returned to Mandalore to find her dead — no Imp in the galaxy would be safe from him. The adrenaline coursing through him allowed Din to effortlessly climb the other side of the ditch without losing pace, firing at those who hadn’t immediately retreated into the treeline as he’d stormed towards them. Holstering his blaster, he reached into the undergrowth and yanked the phase pulse blaster off the corpse of the Imp who’d shot at Bo, whacked the capacity up to maximum, then turned it on the body and fired. White plastisteel disintegrated into atoms before his eyes, and the rage within him crowed at being to avenge his Mand’alor.

Good, he thought with a vicious snarl, before he turned to face the treeline and aimed his weapon at the backs of the retreating troopers. Now to eliminate the rest of them.

Time lost all meaning as he wound his way through the dense trees, blasting at each and every Imp he came across, not caring if they were retreating, fighting, or even surrendering to his onslaught. Each time he obliterated one from existence, the satisfaction he got from it only grew stronger, dogging his steps and urging him onwards with the unrelenting call for more. None of them deserved his mercy for harming her. Imps shouldn’t even have been on this planet. They wouldn’t have even known she was either if you hadn’t kriffed up, his conscience hissed at him over the din of the blood rushing through his ears. But Din ignored it. He ignored everything that wasn’t the utter annihilation of the Imps in front of him until a voice broke through the wrathful haze.

“Djarin, are you receiving me? What’s your position?”

Ignoring the voice, Din continued on. The sound of the detritus on the forest floor being crushed under rapid footsteps up ahead told him he wasn’t far from his quarry. He couldn’t let any of them escape.

“Djarin? Djarin?!” This time, his brain recognised the voice as belonging to Axe Woves, and the other man was growing ever more insistent. “Are you receiving me? What is your position, and is it clear of Imps? Djarin, respond!”

Looking ahead, Din could see the lone Trooper he’d been pursuing fleeing for his life. Scughole wasn’t even trying to return fire. Coward. The white of his armour was marred by blood and muddy leaves as he’d run through dense thickets to try to escape Mandalorian wrath. It wouldn’t help him; just like it hadn’t helped the seven others of his unit who’d tried to hide behind their downed shuttle. Each Imp he’d found had simply been blasted from existence, and so would this one. Taking careful aim, Din locked his sights on the trooper, felt the weapon in his hands power up, and then fired, sending a brilliant blue pulse through the trees until it hit its target. The Imp froze, shimmering for a moment before they burst out of existence.

Mission complete.

Then and only then did Din activate his comm. “In the forest north west of the city. Area is clear of Imps. We should regroup at the ship in the Diplomatic sector.”

“Negative,” Axe replied, the line crackling a little. “That ship left an hour ago with the rest of your team after we mopped up the Imps in the area. I’m only here to find you and bring you back. Meet us at the edge of the forest.”

The comm cut, and Din was left with nothing but the sound of the gentle breeze through the treetops and the rhythmic thud of his heart in his ears. Lowering the pulse blaster, he finally allowed himself to let go of the anger, only to suddenly feel the shaking of the adrenaline coursing through him after being disconnected from reality for so long. He’d lost control. Din knew he had. The Imps needed to be eradicated from this planet, there was no doubt about that, but he’d never allowed his anger to consume him like that before. Din shook his shoulders, trying to dispel the sense of unease. Bounty hunting involved killing, he knew that, but this, this was further than he’d ever gone. Overhead, the steady thrum of a Kom’rk’s engine sounded, and he looked up to see the ship Woves had promised descending below the treeline some way away.  It was time to go.

Bo needed him, if she even still lived.

Whatever route he took back to the ship, Din simply didn’t remember. He’d gone so far into the forest that everything looked the same. All he’d seen were trees, the bodies of Imps killed by his brothers in arms. His ears rang with an empty static buzzing as the events of the last few hours began to weigh heavily on him. By the time he made it back to the ship, Woves and a helmeted Nite Owl were waiting for him at the bottom of the boarding ramp. Axe’s arms were folded, a look of concern on his face that only deepened as Din passed him and shoved the pulse blaster into the arms of the Nite Owl.

“Destroy it.”

He watched as Axe nodded before he wordlessly gestured with his head for Din to get on the ship. The message was clear: they’d deal with it out of his sight. Somehow, that knowledge soothed the jagged edges of his shattered emotions, and Din nodded his thanks in return before he boarded. Winding his way through the ship, the sounds of laughter and bright conversation of other Mandalorians in the social areas filled the hallways, but Din didn’t want anything to do with it, not after what had happened. Instead, he headed lower, moving into the bowels of the Kom’rk and down towards the drop-seat bay. No one would think to look for him there. As the door hissed shut behind him, he walked to the farthest corner of the bay and slumped into the corner seat, resting his head wearily against the durasteel frame.

Closing his eyes, Din tried to look past the anger that had taken over his mind the moment Bo had been hit, and deal with the empty static feeling he’d been left with in the aftermath. No matter how hard he tried to work through it, he didn’t feel connected to himself at all, like something else had taken over his body and had only now receded. As he sat there, trying to fit the shattered pieces of his sense of self back together, time seemed to lose all meaning, just as it had in the forest. He’d felt the ship take off, even braced as it made the lurch to lightspeed, but then time had simply dilated. All his mind could replay was the gut-wrenching sight of Bo falling lifelessly to the ground. It was only when the door to the bay hissed open that he startled and checked his chrono. Two hours had passed, and he hadn’t been aware of any of it. When he glanced up, he was surprised to see Woves in the doorway – well, the back of him at least.

“I brought food,” Axe said by way of greeting. “I knew you were hiding down here, just didn’t know how comfortable you’d made yourself. So, I took a precaution.”

It was a rare occurrence for the other man to show respect for his Creed, and strangely, despite everything, it made Din feel a little better. “Helmet’s on. But thanks.”

There was the sound of boots turning on durasteel, and then Axe was facing him. His expression displayed the same look of concern he’d had when Din boarded the Kom’rk; that wasn’t good. That meant even Woves knew something was up. Din suppressed a sigh when he saw that the other man was also carrying a tray of food. Dank farrik, Axe hadn’t brought him something to eat under the guise of trying to talk to him, had he? That was the last thing he needed.

“I’m not stopping,” Axe said, much to Din’s relief. “Everyone’s had a tough day and needs to eat. That includes anti-social, stubborn nerf-herders who hide in drop-seat bays.” He placed the steaming tray down next to Din, who chose not to acknowledge it. “I thought you might also like to know that I comm’d Sundari and asked after our Mand’alor.”

It should have been embarrassing how quickly his head shot up to look at Axe. The other man looked at him with pity, an expression that made Din feel like his insides were curdling with annoyance and shame, but he tilted his head, asking the Axe to continue.

“She’s awake,” Axe said quietly. “Bruised and annoyed with herself, but otherwise she’s fine. Bo will be back to her usual self by tomorrow, as Aldel tells it.”

All the tension he’d held since he saw the pulse hit her suddenly bled out of Din’s body as he slumped back against his seat. Bo was alive. Even after taking a hit from something as powerful as a pulse blaster, she was alive, and she would live. Suddenly, their arrival on Mandalore couldn’t come soon enough. It wasn’t good enough simply to be told she was okay; he needed to see her, to confirm her survival with his own eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “The hit she took was hard. She wasn’t conscious when they took her onto the ship.”

Axe nodded, leaning against the wall beside him. “Aldel said she didn’t wake until she was in the medcentre on Mandalore. Apparently, she immediately asked for you, only to be told you were still back on Celanon.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking a little uncomfortable. “Look, I don’t want to do this, but the others…” He gestured with his head towards the door. “…well, they wanted me to talk to you about what happened; about how hard you went for those Imps after Bo-Katan got hit.”

Kriff. That was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Din knew he’d lost control, pursued, and cut down those Imps without mercy. There was no other way to describe it. Decimation had been his only thought after Bo had been airlifted out of there. He’d needed to destroy each and every one of them for what they’d done. Yet Din knew it had been his fault she’d even ended up in that situation in the first place. He was the one who’d gone after the Imps in the city, he was the one who’d failed to notice they’d alerted reinforcements, and he was the one who’d failed to place himself between Bo and danger as he’d pledged to do. His anger and fear had led him to lose control in a way he never had before, and now that he was thinking clearly again, guilt that his vengeance went so far sat heavily in his gut.

At the stubborn silence, Axe sighed. “Figured you weren’t going to discuss it with me. But I think you should speak to someone. Especially, since I was calling you over the comms for several minutes before you deigned to respond. You’ve never missed comms like that before.”

Sighing heavily, Din nodded once. “I will find someone.”

“Well, that’s something, I suppose,” Axe said wryly. “The others won’t like it, but at least I can say I spoke to you.” He unfolded his arms and gestured awkwardly to the door. “I’ll leave you to it. Do at least try to eat something before we get back, yeah?”

With that, Axe turned on his heel and left, the door hissing shut behind him, leaving Din alone with the heavy thrum of the Kom’rk’s engines, only matched by the noise of the thoughts in his head. Unable to stand the buzzing a moment longer, Din quickly reached up and depressurised his helmet, pulling it off his head roughly and setting it on the floor. Wearily, he put his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through his hair, teasing it away from his scalp before he scrubbed his hands over his face with a sigh. Dank farrik, everything had fallen into the lava pits of Mustafar. How was he going to make this right? Eating might be a start, his conscience muttered. When did you last eat anyway? Glancing over at the food Axe had brought, Din wrinkled his nose and shoved it further away from him. His body needed the fuel, but after the day’s events, he wasn’t remotely hungry.

Leaning against his elbows again, he closed his eyes and tried to shut out all the noise in his head: the lingering worries of Bo’s demise, the guilt that it was his actions that got her injured, and the horror at the way he lost control. But they were so loud. Axe, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, was right; he needed to speak to someone. But who? Who was knowledgeable enough about the job he had to do and the importance of Bo in his life, to listen to what he had to say objectively?

Abruptly, his comm sounded, startling him from his thoughts. Fumbling with the functions on his vambrace, Din’s heart thudded wildly at the idea that it might be Bo. She might have been released from Aldel’s care and sought him out when she realised that he hadn’t been evacuated with her. But his hopes were dashed when he saw Greef Karga’s name flash up. Sighing, he hit the mechanism to respond,

“Djarin.”

“Mando, my friend!” Greef’s voice was as cheery as he ever was, but at that moment, it grated against Din’s fragile hold on his emotions. “Just checking in to tell you that I’ve stocked up your cabin with the supplies you ordered. Everything should be in place for you and the little one when you return.”

“There’s been a change of plan,” Din replied, running a hand over his face wearily. “We won’t be back tonight. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”

Greef’s chuckle echoed over the comm. “Nonsense! Plans change all the time! That’s why I only stocked it with non-perishables for now. You have a habit of not turning up when you should, after all! I would have brought the fruit and other items once you’d confirmed your arrival. But, friend, I have to ask, what happened to change things? Nothing serious, I hope?”

Despite everything, Din smiled a little. He could always rely on Greef to plan for any outcome when it came to him and the kid.

“Found the Imps I was looking for, but they had friends. Far more than the intel anticipated.” He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat at having to tell someone else the news. “Bo-Katan took a hit from a pulse blaster. She’s alive, she’ll be fine, but it was a…” The words felt like tar in his mouth, but he forced them out. “...closer call than we would have liked.”

“Goodness, Mando! Lady Kryze wasn’t supposed to be involved in that, but I’m relieved to hear she’ll be okay.” There was a pause as Din heard his friend sigh a little, the line crackling with the static of it, before Greef spoke again. “How are you taking it?”

“Why is that relevant?” Kriff, Din knew that was too quick, too defensive. The other man would see right through him.

It appeared his friend had, as Greef cleared his throat in the way he did when he was about to address Din’s stubbornness. “You sound out of sorts, which usually means something isn’t right. What happened, son?”

Could he tell him? Greef wouldn’t judge him; Din was well aware of that. His friend had long ago come to terms with the nature of bounty hunting. But everything still felt so raw and uncontrolled. How could he justify what he did, even to avenge his Mand’alor? Yet it needed to be said, and if he said it all now, he wouldn’t need to relive it again for anyone but Bo.

“I kriffed up,” Din murmured before he took a breath and tried to steady himself. He could tell his friend the truth. “The Imps were more prepared than I expected. They called in reinforcements from a nearby system to attack the city. I tried to take them outside the city limits, but it wasn’t enough. Bo-Katan and the others joined me, and we fought for hours until our own reinforcements arrived. That’s when she got hit by a kriffing Imp with a pulse blaster.” He let out a shaky breath, feeling his entire body tremble as he recalled it. “When I reached her, she was still. I didn’t know how to help. We medevac’d her as soon as we could, but no one knew if she survived until an hour ago.” Anger at himself welled in his gut, threatening to overwhelm him again. “My failure to see the faults in Teva’s intel forced Bo-Katan to join the fight. After they took her away, I lost control of myself. I took the pulse blaster from the Imp who hit her and hunted down every last Imp I could find. They’re all dead.”

There, he’d said it. He’d told his friend the truth. Not every last detail, Greef didn’t need that, but enough that the other man would know what he’d done and the depths to which he’d sunk in his quest for vengeance.

“Mando, my friend, you know that wasn’t necessary.” His friend sounded both concerned and horrified, and it made Din feel sick to his stomach. What must Greef think of him?

“No,” he murmured. “It wasn’t.”

“Promise me that you won’t do anything like it again. That you’ll keep better control of your temper,” Greef chided. “You’re a better man than one who kills without thinking. I know you know this.”

“Believe me, I regret it. I’ve never…succumbed to anger like that before.” Fury was a better word. Blinding fury. The moment he’d felt she had been taken from him was when his grip on himself had slipped. Only Bo could have stopped him, and she wasn’t there.

Greef made a noise of acknowledgement. “You wanted to avenge Lady Kryze because they had harmed her. I understand that. The idea of her being injured or, worse, killed, became unbearable, and you lost control of yourself.”

“I swore to be at her side, but I allowed this to happen.” He’d failed. He’d failed the woman he’d pledged himself to. Her song had nearly ended, and it would have been his fault.

“You were in circumstances beyond your control, my friend. She is a capable warrior, as you well know. You couldn’t have stopped her from being hit in the middle of battle.”

Din clenched his fists, trying to dispel the latent anger at himself still threatening to overwhelm him. “But I should have tried.”

If he cared about her at all, she would never have been hit. How could he have let her down?

There were a few moments of silence before Greef spoke again. “In the time I’ve known both of you, I’ve come to understand that Lady Kryze means a lot to you, Mando. But the fact that you hunted down those who harmed her…disintegrated them…”

“Bo-Katan is my Mand’alor,” Din quickly interrupted, trying to cut him off. “She’s important to the future of our people. I had to make sure there was no further chance of harm.”

“But still,” Greef persisted. “To go as far as you did; that must make her important in other ways, too…”

His friend couldn’t know. There was no way he’d spotted the feelings Din had only recently realised he might have. How could he explain himself and his actions to Greef when he wasn’t sure what it was he felt yet? That wasn’t a conversation he was ready for yet. He had to give some other reason and put his friend off that line of thinking.

“She’s my friend,” Din said sharply. “I had to protect her.”

“Of course, my friend. I meant nothing by it,” Greef replied in the placating tone that Din knew meant his friend thought he’d won some kind of word game with him. “I’ll let you get back to your thoughts. Give Lady Kryze my best wishes for a swift recovery when you see her, won’t you? After your own, of course.”

Kriff it all. Greef clearly knew he was onto something.

“This is the Way.”

“Until we meet again, Mando.”

The comm cut, and Din found himself alone again. But this time, his mind was calmer. His conversation with Greef hadn’t changed the shame he felt from his loss of control, nor the strength of his reaction to Bo’s injury, but it had helped reorganise his thoughts. Bo meant a lot to him, a natural consequence of their friendship and her position as his Mand’alor, and his reaction had reflected that. Yet it had still been an overreaction and one that could have easily had severe consequences. More than the eradication of several squads of Imps. Din knew he needed never to lose himself like that again. That wasn’t the man he was. Closing his eyes, he tried to rest, knowing that they would soon be home and he would be able to see her. That was what he had to focus on.

Hours later, Din was woken by the jolt of the ship leaving hyperspace, followed by the familiar sound of Mandalore’s atmosphere battering the hull as they flew through it. Grabbing his helmet, he quickly donned it and rushed out of the drop-seat bay, striding through the ship with purpose until he reached the area where the boarding ramp was. Woves was already there, one hand on the controls, and with a look on his face that said, ‘Do not test me.’ 

What does he think I’m going to do, open it and jump out to get there sooner? Din grumbled internally as he leaned against a wall and impatiently waited for the ship to come into land. If I’d wanted to do that, I could have just opened the drop-seat bay instead. He couldn’t have stopped me then.

They remained in a tense standoff until the ship touched down in Sundari’s docking bay, and Axe finally hit the controls to lower the boarding ramp. Din was at his side in an instant, silently considering jumping through the widening gap just enough that he could get out of there faster. Ah. Maybe Woves had been right to stand there after all. But conceding to Axe was quickly outweighed by the need to see Bo. Now that they were back on Mandalore, it was almost overwhelming, making him flex his fingers irritably to release the tension.  With great effort, he composed himself, waiting patiently until the ramp mechanism was still and silent, and he had Axe’s permission to leave. As the ramp touched the ground, Din turned his head and found that the other man had moved to stand next to him. Staring out at the docking bay before them, Axe spoke, saying the words almost as if to the wind,

“Medcentre. The private ward. Room two.”

Din nodded once, clapping the other man on the shoulder in thanks before he set off in the direction of the Medcentre with renewed purpose.

By the time he burst through the transparisteel doors, his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. The only sentient who stood between him and seeing Bo again was waiting for him in the lobby. Chief Medic Aldel had his arms folded across his chest, a no-nonsense expression on his face, and was standing directly in front of the entrance to the halls Din knew led to the private wards. Dank farrik. He should have known it wouldn’t be so easy.

“Djarin! Woves informed me you were on your way here,” Aldel greeted with false cheeriness. “I see you’re sporting a blaster wound to the thigh that you’re just ignoring as per usual. Wonderful.”

Din tilted his head. “What do you want?”

“Nothing much,” Aldel replied, unfolding his arms and casually leaning against the unmanned reception desk. “Just to warn you that she’s pretty tired, and a promise that you’ll come and get that nasty-looking blaster burn, that you’re clearly hoping everyone won’t notice, treated afterwards. That sound reasonable?”

Glancing down at his thigh, Din could see the torn fabric and angry red wound beneath it. Of course Aldel wasn’t going to let that slide. Kriffing medics.

“Fine.”

“Excellent!” Aldel said with the shit-eating grin of a man who’d finally got one over on him, before he pointed in the direction of the private ward. “I take it you know the way?”

Din nodded and strode past Aldel and into the hallways that would lead him to the private ward. Every step he took towards her room felt heavier, as if his boots were steadily being weighed down. Was it the guilt that he was the reason she was even here, or was it the fact that he couldn’t stand the idea of Bo being injured in any way? Both. The answer is both, his conscience hissed at him. You hate it when she’s injured, and you hate it even more that you caused this. Now find her and atone for your mistakes.

As he approached the door to her room, he slowed himself down, trying to get a handle on his desperation to see her. Standing before the door, Din took a deep breath, surprised at the sudden sting of tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. That was a strong reaction, even for him. Why had this affected him so badly? It’s the adrenaline, he told himself as he shook his arms to try to dispel the sudden shaky feeling. It’s been a long day, and you just need to see her. Swallowing hard, he raised a fist and knocked on the door.

Bo’s voice called out, “Come in.”

He did so slowly, trying to ignore the way his hand shook as he pressed the panel next to the door to release it. It hissed open, revealing Bo standing with her back to him at the end of the room’s bed. Her beskar was gone, and her flight suit was folded down to her waist, leaving her in only a breastband; a sight he’d never seen before. But that wasn’t what drew his eyes. There, spreading down her torso, curving around to her back, was the bruise from the pulse blaster’s impact. Her beskar had protected her to some extent, but it hadn’t prevented damage entirely. The bruise itself was deep, with mottling shades of dark purples and blues spreading like ink in water beneath her skin. Gritting his teeth, Din immediately tried to look anywhere else. He hated it. He wanted nothing more than to wipe it from her skin with his hands and leave her unblemished and whole again. The thought felt strange, but Din was quickly discovering that he didn’t like the idea of Bo-Katan Kryze injured in any shape or form. He would never let it happen again.

Bo turned and smiled at him, revealing the extent of the bruise as it spread all the way from her sternum and down her torso. “Made it back then?”

“Yeah.” Suddenly, his throat felt like he was going to choke on his words. What was wrong with him? “I see you’re up and walking around.”

She hummed, putting her hands on her hips. “Still hurts like the Sith’s hells, but Aldel can’t find a reason to keep me in overnight. So, I’m allowed out to my quarters on the proviso that I rest.”

The sarcastic way in which Bo emphasised ‘rest’ would usually have been amusing to him. But after everything he’d been through, it was too much to do anything other than enforce the chief medic’s orders.

“You were lucky that pulse blast hit your beskar. Anywhere else, and we would have lost you. Aldel’s right to tell you to rest.” Din knew he’d stand watch in her quarters to make sure Bo took that advice. He needed her healthy again.

“Oh, not you, too!” Bo sighed heavily, wincing when the movement pulled on the bruises. “Aldel’s already been on my ass about that.”

Din shrugged. He wasn’t letting her get away with it. “This is the Way.”

An easy silence settled over them. Din felt he could breathe a little easier now that he could see that Bo, though injured, was as much herself as ever, and determined to get back to her duties despite the consequences. He’d always felt a kinship with her in that respect – they were both as stubborn as each other. After a few moments, Bo sighed, and he watched as she began to attempt to redress herself. As she reached for the arm of her flight suit, she winced heavily, and Din stepped forward almost unthinkingly to help, but pulled back almost instantly. Helping like that was intimate, and he didn’t have the sort of relationship with her where that sort of easy touch was acceptable.

It seemed as if Bo had noticed his hesitation as she smiled softly and beckoned him over with a tilt of her head. “I could do with the help, if you’re willing?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Permission granted. Walking over to her slowly, he gathered up the material of her flight suit, making sure to hold it at the right angles so it was easier for Bo to slip her arms into the sleeves. Once that was done, he watched as Bo fastened the front of it before she looked up at him with a warm smile. Kriff, he hadn’t realised how close they’d got to each other until she did that. It made him want to lean into her…

“All done, thank you,” she said brightly, startling him out of wherever that thought had been going. “It’s probably a good job that I’m not allowed my beskar yet, or you and I would have been here for a while.”

There was another pause. Din opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a soft click as he tried to force the words to come. Then, like a wave rising from the sea to crash against a cliff face in a storm, Din felt a sudden well of emotion surge within him. Bo was here. She was bruised, but smiling, and moving around, when only hours before she’d been as lifeless as a corpse. It didn’t feel real. The emotions coursing through him felt like they were out of control, just like he had been on the battlefield after she was hit. He couldn’t lose control again!

“Din?” Bo’s voice was quiet and full of concern, and when he met her gaze, he could see her eyes were full of worry and gentle pity. “What is it?”

What was it? Din wasn’t sure he could find the words to explain the tangled mess his emotions seemed to have become since he last saw her. He didn’t know if he could put a voice to the fear of losing her that had been instilled in him the moment he saw the pulse blaster fire.

“I…” he started, trying to push the words out from deep inside him. “When you were hit…when you were lying there…I…” He swallowed against the hard lump that had formed in his throat, further embarrassed when the sound escaped his modulator. Could he say this? No. He couldn’t tell her. Breathing in, he tried to disconnect himself from the turbulent feelings raging inside and settled for the safest response he could think of. “I’m glad you’re okay, Lady Kryze.”

“Lady Kryze?”

He could see that Bo was looking at him with deep concern, a frown creasing her brow. Dank farrik, her title had been the wrong thing to use if he didn’t want her to suspect something.

“Bo…” he said, desperately trying to cover his mistake. But his voice cracked and the notes of misery he felt spilt from his modulator.

A look of understanding crossed her features.

“C’mere.” Bo beckoned as she stepped forward, giving him no choice but to accept her comfort as she wrapped her arms around him.

Momentarily stunned, Din remained still for a few moments until he felt Bo squeeze him lightly. Only then did he give in and wrap his arms around her in return, pulling her flush against his body as, silently, tears began to fall beneath his helmet. Mustafar kriffing hells! Why had this affected him so badly? He wasn’t one for tears like this. Yet he couldn’t deny how good it felt to have Bo in his arms, safe and sound.

For a few minutes, they stayed like that, each gently caressing the other, until Bo pulled back, her hands resting warm and comforting against his arms as they hung at his sides. “What happened after they took me away?”

Din couldn’t help it. The speed at which he looked away from her spoke volumes about the guilt he felt. Bo would spot it instantly. He knew she wouldn’t be happy to hear about the vengeance he wrought on the Imps in her absence. Reckless and unnecessary were two words that immediately came to mind.

“Din.”

One word. Not a question. She knew something was up.

He tried to pull away, leave her embrace, even though it pained him. But Bo held on, pinning him in place. With a sigh, he set the truth free. “I killed the Imp who hit you and went after the others.”

“And then?”

“In anger, I used the pulse blaster to destroy each and every one of them.”

The sound of Bo sucking in a breath and then cursing under it was muffled by the way she’d tipped her head down. But Din didn’t have the chance to figure out what that meant as suddenly she lifted her head and cupped the back of his neck, guiding his helmet to rest against her forehead in a keldabe. Din sucked in a shaky breath of his own as he leaned into it, his hands falling to her hips. He knew Bo was aware of how intimate the gesture was. When the Mandalorian receiving one wasn’t a family member, it was akin to a kiss from a lover. It wasn’t a gesture to be made lightly, and suddenly, he felt the urge to feel her forehead against his own without the beskar barrier between them. What was that? Yet the more pressing concern was that if Aldel or some other medic were to walk in on them, then it would be difficult to explain. He tried to pull back, but Bo held firm.

“That was reckless. You do realise that, don’t you?” There was a note of pain in her voice, and Din hated that he was the one to have caused it.

“Yeah, but…”

“No buts,” Bo interrupted him sharply. “Never do that again. Don’t risk yourself for me.”

Din wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her not to take risks herself so that she wouldn’t be in danger of getting hit in the first place. He never wanted to experience panic and rage like that ever again, but he knew it was pointless. Bo would only dig her heels in and insist that he simply let it happen. They were as stubborn as each other. Instead, he nodded against her forehead, feeling her hold him to her tighter as he pressed his helmet into their keldabe with more force in return.

Minutes ticked by as they simply held each other until, with a deep breath, Bo stepped back.

“I’m going to need some help getting back to my quarters,” she said, her gaze soft. “Think you’d be up to the task?”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll be there.” Din knew he’d do anything for her until she was back on her feet.

Bo hummed, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “Well, if you’re up for doing what I want, first we’re going to make a stop to get that blaster wound you’re hiding treated…” Din sighed heavily. He’d hoped she hadn’t noticed that. “…then, by the sounds of it, we need to fetch your son from the training grounds quite urgently.”

Dank farrik. One day free from his influence, and Grogu had already caused trouble.

“What’s he done?”

“While you’ve been out of contact, it seems that Grogu has been teaching the other apprentices how to throw the training detonators properly. Y’know, the ones with the colourful dust that indicates a hit.” Bo looked at him with a wry smile. “They’ve certainly improved their aim no end in one afternoon, but the level of enthusiasm – and the mess – has the tutors begging someone to retrieve him.”

Din looked skywards and sighed heavily, as Bo simply laughed.

“Come on,” she said brightly as she moved towards the door. “Let’s go get you patched up, fetch the kid, grab dinner in my quarters, and forget this day ever happened, yeah?”

He nodded and dutifully followed her out of the room. But inside, Din wasn’t sure he could forget the day’s events. Seeing her lying there, unmoving, had broken something inside him, unleashed new feelings that dovetailed with ones he wasn’t sure how to interpret yet. That something had only partially been soothed by the keldabe she’d given him. But he needed more, and Din wasn’t quite ready to face why that was.