Chapter Text
Mij looked down at his patient. The Mando'ad was dressed down to his kute with the exception of his buy'ce. His posture was nearly as stiff as that of the Jetii'ika he had brought in. It was nice that Mij was still trusted with the ad's health. From what he had heard about Djarin avoiding the Mand'alor he had not expected him to show up anytime soon and least of all voluntarily.
"Your back is fine and there are no remnants of oxygen deprivation detectable."
Djarin nodded slowly.
Mij sighed. "As much as I'd love to think you are here for your mandatory" -he emphasised that word specifically -since none of the Mando'ade seemed to understand what that meant- "check-up, I know better. Why are you here?"
"The Jetii'ika," Din started, hesitantly, "He has battle sickness."
"Yes," Mij stated bluntly.
"Many of the young ones from Melidaan -they, too..."
"Yes, they are all traumatised," Mij sighed. He thought back on the now twelve year old girl who stood guard at his med room's door, wearing Gilamar vambraces. Most weekdays it was still difficult to get her to eat a full meal, other days she hoarded food under her mattress as if she would run out soon.
"But they are not- he is different."
Mij could only imagine. The ad was covered in scars and he was a Jetii. He had an easy time running circles around the adults in the Keldabe palace and an even easier time throwing them onto the ground on their training fields.
"Every ad -every person is different when it comes to these things. Have patience with him."
"He wanders and stares. He has nightmares, but he does not scream or toss."
Mij nodded grimly. "For now. Maybe at some point he will. He needs to feel save to work through those things."
That seemed to do little to pacify Djarin. "He does not know that he has choices. I cannot ask him, because it frightens him and I don't know how to make them for him."
That must be quiet a new experience. From what Mij knew Grogu had very strong opinions about most things.
"Keep offering him choices and try to choose in his interest. That is all you can do."
There was something that weighed heavy on Mij. Something very much based on stolen choices, not that it had ever been his choice.
He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves.
"Your Creed. The choice Jaster made, do you blame him?" Mij could not even speak of his own involvement. It had not been his right and yet he felt as much as a perpetrator, just another villain who had taken Djarin's rights away.
In all fairness, nothing of his file had said 'buy'ce on at all cost', not like it had stated 'no droids'. But the implication had been there. Even without a deeper understanding of how any Creed worked, the general rules of the Creed-bound were no secrets.
"Yes," Djarin said, his voice rough.
Then after a long breath, he said: "No."
Mij sighed. He forced himself to loosen his fingers from where they had begun to cramp around his small scanner.
"It was the right thing. I am the only Mandalorian who has seen the future, he could not risk that -not for one man's life or honour."
Mij rubbed his hands.
"I don't think that's why he did it."
Djarin stared at him blankly and Mij felt like he had to elaborate: "You told him everything you knew, didn't you? Right at the beginning?"
"There might have been more. Things I was -am not aware of that are important," his own voice sounded doubtful.
Mij nodded. He focused his gaze on the room, on the shelf that housed replacement blood and the cooling matts he had asked Jaster to use on Djarin.
"Jaster did what he would have done for any verd. You chose him as your emergency contact, as the person to take responsibility. I don't know if you did it because he owed you a life debt, but Jaster would never be able to let an innocent man die if he could save him."
It's part of what had driven Mij to join the Haat'Mando'ade. There had been so much unnecessary blood shed between Mandalorians when he became one by marriage. His wife, Tani's death at the hands of Kyr'tsad and then his revenge which had left him empty and unfulfilled had nearly driven him away from Mandalore entirely. Jaster and the Haat'Mando'ade were different. The value of a life outweighed even the crimes of the past to Jaster. Mij had no doubt that if Pre Vizsla and the rest of Kyr'tsad surrendered this day, he would let them life. In this instance, Jaster was a better Mando'ad than Mij himself.
"Mand'alor Mereel is kind. He would have looked after my ad and Jango would have been a good vod to him."
Mij grimaced. "So you chose him as the decision maker because of your son?"
Djarin faced the wall and Mij had the impression that behind his visor the man had closed his eyes.
"I have broken my Creed before," he admitted.
Mij was surprised, but he tried to keep his expression neutral.
"Once using a loophole," he swallowed visibly, his entire bucket bobbed slightly. Djarin was fidgeting in his seat like an ad about to admit they had swallowed a whole flask of Mij's sweetened cough syrup.
"Once to save my ad." Mij nodded. If there ever was an honourable reason to break a Creed that would be it.
"And once," Djarin went still, "just to say goodbye."
Mij did not know what those words implied. Did Djarin mean during a funeral? Did dead people count?
"To say goodbye?" He whispered the question softly.
"My ad- A Jetii was to take him and I could not..."
"You needed him to see," Mij gave an empathic nod. He had a daughter now. The idea of parting was impossible. One day she would grow up, but for now Mij allowed himself not to think about that. They had shared hugs, lain face to face after nightmares of Melidaan. He had brushed away tears and kissed her on her hair good night -He could not imagine a life without those things.
"My Creed," Djarin spoke as if it pained him, "here -there is no one else with it."
Mij was not so sure about that. Djarin was hardly the forthcoming type and if his people were only half as secretive -who knew in what asscrack of the galaxy they might be hiding?
"That sounds difficult," he said sympathetically instead of arguing.
"I do not want to die," Djarin concluded. "Mand'alor Mereel made the right choice."
Something in Mij's chest detangled. He had not even been aware on how tight the knot had formed inside his ribs.
"Maybe you should tell him," Mij suggested with a genuine smile.
"Eh..."
Mij raised an eyebrow. This conversation was going on much longer than his usual follow up consultations. And now that the worst part had been cleared up he felt the business of the day return. He had other Mando'ade to hunt down who had yet to discover meanings of words such as 'mandatory'.
"You should tell him," the baar'ur repeated.
Djarin stared. His bucket tilted like that of a confused tooka cat.
Mij took mercy on him, explaining slowly: "He thinks you think he has taken your soul."
"My Creed is not my soul."
Mij shrugged. Maybe once this was all cleared up Jaster could make Djarin write a guide to his Creed and how it worked. The nuances were clearly lost on all of them.
Thinking back on his to-do list the baar'ur asked: "You have adopted Grogu and Obi'ika officially haven't you?"
Djarin nodded, his bucket tilting further.
"And you plan on adopting Jon, right?"
Again he nodded.
"Good. Give the ad all the time in the world. Offer, but also let him come to you with an answer without pressure. The ad'ika needs choices and to learn that he has them first, just like you said."
Again a nod.
"And bring them here -all three of them if you can manage. I'm going to start writing a tutorial on how to treat Ka'ra trained ade. With how you have been going at it and with Jaster's vision of cooperation with the Jetiise one day, we might need it."
Djarin nodded again.
It seemed they were done talking. All the better. Mij needed a nap or a booster shot. There was always more to do.
"Now, go and talk to Jaster. And don't forget to come back immediately after your next mission!"
This time there was no nod and Djarin left the med room silently. Mij sighed.