Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a simple outing.
That was the thing about family days.
They were supposed to be simple.
No blaster fire.
No bounty hunters.
No life-or-death decisions.
Just a trip to the shopping district on Nevarro.
A day where Grogu could pick out his Life Day presents.
Din had insisted on it.
Absolutely insisted.
Because every year, without fail, the people who loved Grogu went completely overboard.
Greef.
Cara.
Boba.
Fennec.
Peli.
Everyone.
They saw the kid and immediately wanted to give him everything.
And Din understood.
He really did.
Because he was guilty of the same thing.
Grogu deserved the galaxy.
But Din also knew what happened when a five-year-old got buried under mountains of toys and treats and gifts.
He got overwhelmed.
He forgot to appreciate anything because there was too much.
So this year, Din had made a rule.
One gift from each person.
Grogu got to pick it himself.
Something meaningful.
Something he actually wanted.
And, naturally, everyone complained.
“A single gift?” Greef had said, offended.
“For the child?”
Din had crossed his arms.
“Yes.”
“But he is adorable.”
“That is not an argument.”
“It should be.”
Cara had laughed.
“He’s got you there.”
Din had ignored her.
Mostly.
⸻
The first few hours had been perfect.
Grogu had been in heaven.
Every store had something interesting.
Every display was fascinating.
Every person they passed was a potential conversation partner.
Because Grogu was five now.
And five-year-olds had opinions.
Lots of opinions.
“Daddy, look!”
“Daddy, what’s that?”
“Daddy, can I have one?”
“Daddy, why does that one have sparkles?”
“Daddy, do you think banthas like hats?”
Din had answered every single question.
Because he always did.
Even the bantha hat question.
“I see it, kiddo.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, you already have three.”
“You should ask it.”
“Where exactly do you think I’m finding a bantha to ask?”
Grogu had thought about that seriously.
“I don’t know.”
And then he’d wandered off to look at something else.
⸻
But halfway through the afternoon, Din noticed the change.
Because Din noticed everything.
The slowing steps.
The quieter voice.
The way Grogu wasn’t stopping at every interesting thing anymore.
The way he leaned closer.
The way his little hand kept finding Din’s.
“Hey.”
Din crouched.
“You okay?”
Grogu looked up.
Normally, there would have been an immediate answer.
A story.
An explanation.
A dozen words.
Instead, he just shrugged.
“Don’t feel good.”
That got Din’s attention.
Immediately.
He put a hand against Grogu’s forehead.
Warm.
Too warm.
His expression changed.
“Oh.”
Cara noticed.
“What?”
“He might be getting sick.”
Grogu immediately looked miserable.
Which, honestly, was impressive.
He was already dramatic when healthy.
Sick Grogu was a completely different creature.
“Daddy.”
The tiny voice.
The absolute tragedy.
Din sighed.
“Yeah, kid?”
“Carry me?”
And there it was.
The request he would never deny.
Not from Grogu.
Not ever.
Din scooped him up.
The little one immediately curled against his chest, arms wrapping around his neck.
“Alright.”
Din stood.
“Outing’s over.”
Greef opened his mouth.
“But—”
“No.”
“The child needs shoes.”
“He has enough shoes.”
“But—”
“More than enough shoes.”
Cara laughed.
“He’s got you there, Greef.”
Greef sighed dramatically.
“Fine.”
⸻
They all crowded into the large elevator.
Seven adults.
One very puny five-year-old.
Din stood toward the back, holding Grogu securely.
The kid was warm against him, tired and clingy.
Exactly how he got when he was starting to feel bad.
Din rubbed his back.
“It’s okay, buddy.”
Grogu hummed.
“We’ll go home.”
A tiny nod.
“I’ll get you some medicine.”
Another tiny nod.
“You’ll feel better.”
“Promise?”
Din’s heart softened.
“Promise.”
Migs, standing near the control panel, rolled his eyes.
“You know, kid, if you keep pretending to be sick, your dad's gonna carry you everywhere.”
Grogu lifted his head.
“I’m not pretending.”
“Sure.”
“I’m sick.”
“Very convincing.”
Grogu frowned.
“Daddy.”
Din looked over.
“What?”
“Uncle Migs is being mean.”
Din looked at Migs.
“Migs.”
“What?”
“Apologize.”
The mercenary stared.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“For the child?”
“Yes.”
Migs sighed.
“Sorry, little buddy.”
Grogu considered this.
“Okay.”
Everyone laughed.
Even Din.
⸻
The elevator doors closed.
Floor five.
Going down.
Migs pressed the button.
The elevator started moving.
Then—
Something happened.
A sudden jerk.
A violent lurch.
The entire group stumbled.
Cara bumped into Boba.
Boba bumped into Peli.
Peli slammed into Fennec.
Fennec collided with Din.
And Din reacted before he even thought.
His arms tightened around Grogu.
He turned.
Shielding him.
Taking the impact himself.
Grogu made a startled noise.
“Daddy?”
“I’m okay.”
Din looked around.
“What was that?”
Bo looked up.
“That was not normal.”
The elevator lights flickered.
Then—
Stopped.
Everyone went silent.
The soft hum of machinery disappeared.
The elevator was still.
Completely still.
Migs looked at the control panel.
“Uh.”
Din looked at him.
“What?”
Migs pressed the button again.
Nothing.
He pressed it harder.
Still nothing.
“Oh.”
Everyone stared.
“Oh?”
Cara repeated.
Migs held up his hands.
“I don’t know.”
Boba looked at the ceiling.
“Can you call someone?”
Fennec checked.
“No signal.”
Peli smacked the emergency button.
Nothing.
“Well.”
She looked around.
“This is inconvenient.”
Bo crossed her arms.
“How long do you think?”
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.