Author's Note:
Better late than never! I can confirm that this is not the last chapter. I literally had 'conversation' written down in my plot outline for the beginning of chapter 7 and it turned into a 2,000 something word chapter in itself. But it is meaningful conversation :P The final chapter will be as soon as my brainallows. Thanks for the positive reviews and following, and enjoy!
Cara's current state of mind could only be described as desiring to shoot everything and everyone in the vicinity except Din Djarin.
She cursed herself for being so stupid to leave him behind and in such immediate danger. They'd been surrounded by a kriffing pack of anoobas for hours and she'd left him to fend for himself while he currently had a kriffing broken leg. She wasn't sure she'd ever felt more angry at herself than she did now.
Her anger dissipated and was swiftly replaced by concern when she heard Din say her name, his voice sounding so delirious and pained through his modulator. He was lying supine on his back in the grass, his blaster loosely held in his right hand and his left hand weakly clenched into a fist at his side.
"Hey," she said breathlessly as she knelt down in the grass beside her friend and tossed her blaster to the side, unable to tell how lucid he was without being able to see his eyes. "I'm so sorry, I should have never left, that was stupid-"
"No," Din cut her off through a panting breath, his voice sounded as though his teeth were clenched. "You had to go. Couldn't have...known."
"I could have, and I should have," Cara retorted, her bitter anger at herself resurfacing. "Are you okay?"
"Not...really," he answered as he gingerly wrapped his arm around his middle.
Cara knew it had been a bit of a dumb question, but the fact that he had admitted he wasn't fine was certainly a cause for concern.
"I killed the one tangled in your whip chord. The big one got away," she recounted, figuring he'd been too out of it to notice.
He gave a tiny nod of acknowledgment before his breathing noticeably sped up. Adrenaline's gone, Cara suddenly realized with a wince, familiar with the blessed effect of adrenaline to mute pain until it faded and the floodgates opened.
"Cara?" asked a small voice from inside the silver helm.
"Yes?"
"I feel sick."
Cara's heart jumped to her throat. "I won't look," she quickly promised and turned around, her panic evident in her voice.
Moments after she whirled around, she grimaced at the sound of him throwing up what little he had in his stomach before dry heaving relentlessly. She knew it was only a pain reaction and not a cause of him somehow being ill, but she also was aware of how badly he had to be hurting for him to feel that nauseous.
The sound of the helmet's pressure returning cued Cara to turn back around. She started to feel nauseous herself from guilt; if she hadn't been such an idiot and left him alone and vulnerable, he wouldn't be hurting so badly.
"I can't believe our rust bucket didn't have any pain meds," Cara growled angrily, hoping that when Greef finally decided to show up they'd leave the useless ship here to rot.
Din understandably didn't respond, just seemed to be focusing on every breath he was taking. Cara tried to imagine how he'd fought the vicious animals in such a weakened state. His numerous gadgets built into his armor were probably the main reason he'd survived before she'd arrived.
"Why don't you have the darksaber with you?" she asked suddenly, noticing that the beskar hilt wasn't clipped to his belt. It surely would have been helpful to him in the fight against the anoobas.
"Not...mine," Din ground out under his helm. Cara was just relieved he was aware enough to answer her.
"But it is. You won it from Gideon. You have every right to wield it," Cara argued. They'd briefly had this conversation shortly after Din had given the kid to the Jedi, but Cara was hoping that maybe he'd just been grieving then and had changed his mind about the sword since.
"It shouldn't...belong to me," Din protested stubbornly. "Belongs to...Kryze."
"Well she sure was eager to take it," Cara recalled sarcastically, remembering how Bo-Katan had adamantly refused to take the sword she so desperately wanted because she hadn't won it properly. Cara understood codes and honor, but Kryze seemed to take it a little too far in her opinion.
"She's just--" Din began, but for some reason stopped and went silent.
"Just what?" Cara asked patiently, confused by his silence until he groaned loudly and tried to shift himself on the grass.
"Woah, hey, don't move," Cara quickly scolded, sympathy etched into her voice. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made you talk so much." She quickly scanned him with her dark brown eyes to make certain that he hadn't gotten any new injuries. There didn't appear to be any; however, his right leg lying at a sickening angle was definitely not a pleasant sight. She decided it'd be best to straighten it out for both Din's and her sake.
"Hey. Din," Cara suddenly blurted without thinking and resisted the urge to slap her hand over her mouth.
Dank ferrik!
She had never called him by his birth name. Ever. Mostly because he hadn't been the one to share it with her, so she didn't feel like she had the right to. But little did he know that she had always thought of him as Din Djarin ever since Gideon had revealed his true name. He was never 'Mando' to her. In fact, she'd never actually used the common nickname once, now that she thought of it.
The use of his real name prompted Din to lift his helmeted head to stare at her in what she guessed was surprise, but he did not comment on it.
Cara swallowed awkwardly. "I'm gonna shift your leg a little bit, okay? Sorry."
He gave a ghost of a nod and Cara slowly moved the mangled limb into a more natural position. To his credit he barely made a sound. Cara found his pain tolerance both impressive and worrying; clearly, he'd been trained to handle it well.
There was a moment before Cara remembered why she'd left him alone in the first place. She cleared her throat to break the silence before speaking.
"I did find clean water, if you want some," she told Din and held his now full canteen at arm's length.
He nodded in affirmation. "Help me up," he asked after a moment, not wishing to drink laying down.
Cara complied and pulled him into a sitting position before giving him the canteen. As soon as he screwed the cap off, she started to turn around to give him privacy before a grip on her wrist stopped her.
"Cara."
Confused, she tried her best to find his eyes through the darkness of his visor, but only saw her own reflected back.
"It's fine. You can look at me."
She opened her mouth to protest, but had already put his hands on both sides of his helmet and lifted it up until his entire face was revealed and the helmet was unceremoniously put off to the side.
Cara's eyes softened at the sight before her. His hair was sweaty and messier than when she'd first seen him, and his dark brown eyes that had been shining with tears a week ago were now bright and hazy with pain. He squinted in the morning sunlight, and Cara briefly wondered how dark his visor was from the inside. His appearance under the helmet was a perfect description of him; cold and intimidating with the helm, but very human and kind looking underneath it.
He offered her a weak smile awkwardly before taking a long drink of the clear water Cara had discovered in a brook on the other end of the mountain he'd fallen from. He finished and wiped his mouth with his gloved hand before studying her with a curious gleam in his eyes
"You've never called me...Din...before."
Cara's gaze flicked up in surprise. "Well I-I didn't know if you'd want me to," she stuttered, still embarrassed she'd let his name slip from her mouth.
"Why?"
She sighed. "You weren't the one who told me your name," she explained softly. "Would...would you have told me otherwise?"
Din seemed slightly amused by her question. His lack of experience of having his facial expressions visible made his thoughts and feelings as easy to read as an open book. Cara couldn't help but think it was kind of cute, not unlike a small child whose face betrayed them when they lied.
"I would have," he answered confidently. "Don't know when, but...I would've."
Cara only smiled at him in response, touched. He returned the smile with a ghost of a chuckle and flicked his gaze down.
"So...do you mind if I call you Din, Din?" Cara finally asked nervously, not entirely sure what he would say.
His gaze returned to her, seemingly searching for her thoughts in her eyes. "No, I don't. But...just when it's us, or when Karga is around."
Cara couldn't restrain the beam that formed on her face. "Okay," she accepted with a happy sigh, trying to hide the rather large grin on her face from his curious eyes.
For a few moments they simply sat lost in their own private thoughts, somehow temporarily forgetting that they were stranded on an anooba-infested planet and that one of them was crippled. The peaceful moments were blissful, a distraction from their dire situation that demanded so much worry.
A bone-chilling howl shattered the moment.
Cara started, jerked out of her train of pleasant thoughts. No doubt it had been the anoobas.
She noticed the unconcealed fear in Din's eyes, and he spared no time in putting his helmet back over his head, his appearance of an intimidating masked warrior restored.
"Do you think they'll attack again so soon?" Cara asked as she hefted her blaster, eager to fill the vicious canines with a thousand laser bolts for what they'd put them through.
"Probably not for a day or so, since we killed half their pack," Din suggested, "but they were severely malnourished. Anything's possible when an animal is that hungry."
Cara flicked her gaze to Din worriedly. She'd be here to defend him if the dogs attacked this time, but it didn't mean that he was safe. She knew he still couldn't stand up, and he'd likely used up all of the fuel in his flamethrower. Plus, his whip chord had been used in the previous encounter and he didn't seem to have a spare with him to reload his vambrace.
She only hoped that Greef was on his way.
"Well, you won't be alone this time if they do attack us. Get some rest, I'll watch," Cara told Din with conviction in her tone. He'd been through enough this morning; best he rest up before another attack occurred.
He didn't answer at first, as if he was about to protest, but eventually he nodded and attempted to make himself comfortable on the grass.
"If you hear or see anything, wake me."
"I will," Cara promised. Nothing was going to hurt them again today. Not on her watch.
Post-Script Notes:
*Kriff/kriffing: a Star Wars expletive
*If you recall, it is actually true that Cara never calls Din 'Mando' throughout the entire show.
*Also, Din's name is only said 3 times in the entire show, all in chapter 8. The only characters to speak his name are Moff Gideon ("Or perhaps the decommissioned Mandalorian hunter, Din Djarin, has heard the songs of the Siege of Mandalore...") The Armorer ("IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.") and Din himself ("When you get to the Mandalorian covert, you show them that. You tell them it's from Din...Djarin.")
*I'm making guesses when it comes to how Din's gadgets work. In chapter 3 his flamethrower did burn out, and in chapter 9 he seemed to release his entire whip chord when he hung Gor Keresh on the streetlight so I'm guessing he has to reload it.
