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Din awoke to darkness. This was usually not a good sign. He tried to assess his physical condition, but he felt groggy and disoriented, like his body was not his own. What happened to him?
He forced his sluggish brain to function, trying to figure out the last thing he could remember. Being captured by the Hutts. The dragonsnake. Grogu and the Anzellans coming to his rescue. Seeing the size of their ship. Realizing he was not going to survive this encounter.
So this was what it felt like to be dead? It wasn't exactly what Din had expected from the afterlife. What was the point of his consciousness remaining if he had no body to control, no beings to watch over, nothing to see or hear or taste or smell—
No, he could smell something. It was musty yet fresh, like dirt or mud. Was he...buried? Did your consciousness stay trapped in your body when you died? For that matter, who in the Hutts' employ would have bothered to bury him? This was making his head hurt.
Wait, no. It wasn't just Din's head that was hurting. He was aching all over, from his head to his back to his feet. Maybe he wasn't dead after all.
He rolled his head to the side, and his muscles groaned in protest. There was a stiffness there, like he hadn't used them in ages. How long had he been out? How was he even alive? These were questions to which it would be nice to have an answer, but not the most pressing question at the moment. He needed to figure out where he was, and—
Din froze. As he had been moving his arms, he heard a rustle of fabric from his left side. The crook of his left arm, to be precise, which he now realized was holding some extra weight. He hadn't noticed it at first because he was such a familiar weight.
But it couldn't be him.
Grogu was—his kid was—he was on the Anzellans' ship, right? Hadn't Din seen him board? Seen it successfully take off while Din took out the the enemies in their immediate vicinity? The kid was supposed to be safe, leaving this godforsaken planet and getting far, far away from the Hutts. He would sacrifice his life to keep his kid safe. He thought he had.
And yet, after he lifted an aching arm to his helmet to turn on the heat vision filter, he was met with the unmistakable heat signature of Grogu, sleeping soundly in the crook of his arm.
A flash of anger—well, more like annoyance—flashed through Din, realizing that Grogu had defied his instructions and stayed on Nal Hutta, putting himself at risk. The kid had no idea how dangerous this stunt was, that the Hutts would happily string him up and torture him for the rest of his life if they caught him. If he had just listened for once, he would be safe on the ship, and...
(And I would be dead.)
There was no doubt in Din's mind now that Grogu was the reason that he had survived. He had used his Force powers to heal the bite wound, and maybe extract the poison too? He wasn't exactly sure if that was within Grogu's capabilities, but the kid was always surprising him with how much he was capable of. Not the least of which was making the decision to stay on this planet to protect and heal him. Grogu must have found or dug or built this mud structure to keep him safe while he slept.
His kid.
His stupid, stubborn, brave, brilliant kid.
Din would always strive to protect him, because that was what he had vowed. But somehow it had never occurred to him that Grogu might have vowed to protect him, too.
Din felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and he took a shuddering breath in and out. There was only one way he could express the sudden torrent of emotions that flooded over him. He slowly took off his helmet, doing his best not to disturb Grogu's sleep, and put it aside. Then he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his kid's head. "I love you, kiddo," Din murmured, gently pulling him closer to his side.
And maybe it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn he heard Grogu let out a happy coo at that.