.
.
It's too quiet. Even with the kid cooing and babbling in his makeshift seat, the Razor Crest is still too quiet and it's making Din nervous. He's been trying to make things easier for Sera but keeping the kid up in the cockpit, quiet and occupied is difficult. He isn't sure how much longer he can distract him with shiny objects he finds around the ship.
For now, thankfully, the kid is satisfied with the metal ball that had first caught his eye so many weeks ago. He coos and rolls it back and forth over the edge of the seat and Din looks from him to the opening in the floor leading down into the cargo area.
He isn't sure how long it's been since that first night, but no more than a few days, and she hasn't spoken a word since. Mostly, she sleeps, and he lets her. After what she's been through, he knows she needs it.
Occasionally, he will hear her move from her cot to the refresher, but she never speaks to him and if she's noticed that there's an extra member of the crew this time around or not, he doesn't know. He's doing his best not to bother her but it's bothering him.
He reaches for his helmet and glances to the kid out of habit. He isn't used to being barefaced around anyone, nor is he quite used to his new clan. Din hooks his thumbs beneath the beskar and lifts it up and over until he sets it in his lap. Like the curious child that he is, two large, dark eyes stare up at him and the Mandalorian lets the corner of his mouth lift into a smile.
Apparently, the kid isn't used to seeing him without a helmet either.
"You don't need to remind me that I'm ugly," he says playfully, reaching over to stroke the edge of the kid's ear with his fingers. "I'm well aware."
He gets only a giggle in return before he returns back to playing with the ball. With a sigh, the bounty hunter scrubs his palm across his face and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. What a fine situation he's found himself in-again.
Surely, he'll learn his lesson one of these days and stop taking in strays. Even as he thinks it, he winces and knows that things aren't that black and white. Both Sera and the kid were different-they are different. When he met her months ago, she was young and naive and he almost pitied her. Somehow, she grew on him more and more until out of nowhere, he cared about her. The time that they spent together was the first time he thought that maybe he could have more than this life.
But then she left and he was alone until-
"Ah!" The metal ball rolls out of the kid's hand and pings loudly against the floor, jerking Din from his thoughts. He leans over in his seat and grabs the ball before it can make any more noise before he sits back and scowls at the kid. His hands are flexing greedily as the Mandalorian gives his toy back to him.
"Let's try to keep quiet, alright?"
With another quiet babble, the kid seems to either understand Din's suggestion or is too preoccupied with his toy to care. Either way, the bounty hunter stands to his feet and walks to the opening leading to the cargo hold. It's dark, with the lights that are usually on dimmed to give Sera comfort.
He stands there, not sure if he should check on her or not. On one hand, he knows she wants to be alone, but on the other...he can't stand knowing she's hurt. And not just physically. She had insisted that she was fine the first night on the ship. At first, he had believed her. Now that more and more time passes, he isn't sure if she's lying to him.
All she does is sleep.
Is that normal?
Behind him, the kid starts banging the metal ball against the side of the control panel and he whirls around to snatch him by the hand. He shrieks in protest and Din sighs, lifting his face to the ceiling while holding the ball out for the kid to take it back.
He sits down once more and rakes a hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his head as he leans back. There he sits for a long while, just staring, still confused about what to do. Across from him, he can see the opening down to the lower level on his right and the kid on his left. The dark eyes that are usually watching him closely are drooping lower and he lets out a yawn that nearly makes him fall back in his seat.
It's clear that the kid will be out in no time and Din waits until he hears the soft snores coming from him. Once he's sure that he's asleep, he stands and leans over the makeshift pram to peer down into the little, green face. And that's when he hears something else, something that makes his heart leap into his throat.
Din whips his head toward the ladder and holds his breath in waiting. There's no mistaking the sound he heard. It's soft, barely a noise at all, but he recognizes it immediately. It's the same as it always is.
She's crying.
Regret and guilt are heavy as they sink through him and he wants to sit back down and let her cry. But he's done that for the past few days and he can't let her do this until she starves to death.
He clenches his jaw tightly and snatches his helmet from the panel where he had set it down. He's halfway to the ladder when he pulls it on and his boots tap with a slight echo on each rung as he lowers himself down into the cargo hold.
The cot he had pulled out for her is where it's been since she came back and she's laying on her side, facing away from him. Her hands are swiping quickly at her cheeks and he hesitates for just a moment before he crosses the room. She doesn't look up at him, though he knows she's heard him move toward her.
With one hand gently touching her bare shoulder to let her know he's there, Din leans over her and slips his other arm beneath the bend of her legs. She gasps and her hands are quick to push him away.
"What are you doing?" Her voice is raspy and barely a whisper and he swallows tightly before looking down at her.
"I'm getting you up." He doesn't wait for her protests and lifts her out of the cot. Sera sucks in a breath once more, a sound he's heard before and one he once dreamed about hearing, but he knows now isn't the time to think about that.
Instead, he turns her toward the refresher and ignores her attempts to push against the armor of his chest. She's far too weak to do anything more than that.
He knows he's overstepping his boundaries and that normally, she would give him quite an earful, but at the moment, he doesn't care. He turns past the toilet to where a small standing area is situated where he showers. It's barely enough room for one person and now that there are two, he has trouble maneuvering her around.
Eventually, he sets her down on her feet and receives a weak smack across his helmet that hurt her more than it did him. He scowls, though it's nice to see a small glimmer of who she once was, and stares at her through the visor. Her brows are pinched and she hisses in pain as she holds her hand to her chest. When she looks up at him, she's glaring and he steps back toward the toilet.
"You need a shower."
Her eyes cut away from him and she purses her lips to keep her chin from quivering. For a moment, they stand there in the cramped space, and Din is sure that he's going to have to turn the water on for her. Not just because she can't see but because she's refusing to move.
He reaches for the dial on the wall and blinks in surprise by her hands suddenly gripping his wrist. He lets her pull him away from the controls and turns to look down at her.
"I'll do it. I just-" her voice catches and she sniffs. "I just don't want to be naked in front of you."
In an instant, his eyes drop from her face to her chest, but she had pulled on the same flight suit he had provided for her months ago and he couldn't see a spare inch of her skin beneath her throat. But on the strip of flesh around her neck, he notices the faint, fading signs of bruises and his stomach drops.
"If you're hurt-"
"Mando, please." The pain in her voice cuts through him and though he doesn't want to, he turns away. He keeps his back to her but doesn't shut the refresher door, just in case she needs him quickly.
He can hear the slow, quiet shuffle of fabric and a moment later, the flight suit lands on the floor behind his boots. There's a moment of fumbling, with her hands passing over the walls, but it's not long before the water sprays out. Again, he hears her suck in a breath and he swallows down the intrusive thoughts that keep threatening.
Now is not the time to think about that kind of thing. It had gotten him into enough trouble the first time around.
Mando shifts from side to side as he waits and listens to the occasional heavy drop of water on the floor. No more gasps-no more sounds from her. She showers quietly and he stands and waits until steam starts to snake around his ankles. He can feel the warmth snaking up in the space between his helmet and his neck and it makes him shiver.
His lips are dry and he darts his tongue out to wet them. All too suddenly, memories he's spent months trying to bury come flaring back to life and he clenches his jaw to stop them. It doesn't help.
They're there behind his eyes and he can see Sera the way she used to be. Long, dark hair sticking to her bare back in wet tendrils, her braids brushed out for once. She's not so thin as she is now, her cheeks and shoulders are freckled from being outside and he's powerless to stop his gaze from lowering down the length of her naked body. It was wrong for him to watch her then and he still feels the guilt from it now.
Din shuts his eyes just as the shower behind him is turned off and his entire body tenses as if he's afraid she can read his thoughts.
"I need a towel," comes her quiet, whispered voice and it echoes inside his head. He reaches toward the compartment next to the refresher door and snatches a nearly threadbare towel from inside. He passes it back to her without turning around and after a moment of fumbling, he feels her fingers pass over the back of his hand.
She takes it from him and he turns just enough to see her out of the small slit in his helmet and the corner of his eye. The towel-which was once white and is now a dingy, grey-is wrapped around her chest and tucked beneath her arm. She rings her hair out, her face pinched with a frown as if it's a struggle just to move.
Seeing her so frail and broken makes the panic return and he's turning toward her before he can stop himself. The urge-the need to reach for her is nearly too strong to resist but he does. Sera tilts her head up and looks in his direction. There's a small smile in the corner of her lips and Din finds himself returning it, even though she can't see it.
To his surprise, she holds out her hand, searching for him and she finds the hard plate of the beskar on his shoulder. She shakes her head and steps around the toilet with his help. "Still covering every inch of yourself." Her fingers curl into fists and she taps her knuckles against the beskar. "You haven't changed much."
"No," he says quietly, steering her back toward her cot. "I don't suppose I have." He expects her to sit down again but she doesn't and he turns to face her once more, a frown pinching his brows as he does. "What's wrong?"
"I'm hungry."
Relief washes over him and he nods, wasting no time. He's across the room in three steps and opens one of the cabinets with a quick push of the buttons. They're running low on rations and he was planning to make a stop soon anyway to refill his supplies. He takes two packs out and shuts the doors behind him.
When he turns around, he finds Sera sitting at the table with the towel still wrapped around her chest and his eyes betray him. They slip low, taking in the state of her bare legs and feet. There are cuts and bruises marking her toes and around her ankles where a cuff had been clamped.
His steps are slow as he walks back to the table and he sets the packet of rations down beside her. She reaches for one while he takes the other and they rip the vacuum seal at the same time. Hers is some sort of granola with infused nutrients. They taste awful, but they keep him alive.
She's bringing it to her lip without even asking him what it is and he steps away to retrieve her some water to drink. When he returns, she's taken the pack he opened and dips her fingers inside. It's a small loaf of bread with sprinkles of herbs around the crust and Mando smiles as he sits across from her.
"Here's some water," he says and she nods. "I know the food isn't very good. I plan to restock my supplies soon."
"It's the best thing I've had in months." There's a sadness in her voice, one that he can feel piercing his chest, and he closes his eyes. "They didn't feed me much."
They...
The slavers. The ones that took the girl he knew and tore her apart until she was someone else entirely. He wishes he had stayed behind and killed every last one of them.
"I'm sorry." It's all he knows to say. It isn't enough.
She finds the cup and brings it to her mouth, sipping slowly but not stopping until it was empty. The cup lands on the table as she catches her breath and hiccups. Her hand presses against her chest and she scoffs.
"I don't think my belly is used to being this full." Humor touches her words but the look on her face doesn't match. She frowns and ducks her head. "Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me."
"Yes, I do." Sera looks at him and he can't bring himself to look into her eyes. They're too different-a reminder of what he let happen. He misses the spark and the warmth she once had behind her gaze. "You're always rescuing me."
He doesn't know what to say so he doesn't say anything and she doesn't seem to mind. They sit together in the quiet, with nothing but the constant, low rumble of the ship's engine. Mando brings his gaze back to her and studies the bruises around her throat.
There's a band of yellow and fading purple where the chain had been pulled tight around her neck and along her collar bone was dotted with marks. Her arms didn't seem to bad and he forced himself not to notice how short the towel was on her hips or how in some parts of the fabric, he could see right through to her skin.
Instead, he focuses on her feet and ankles. It's easy to see she had been forced to go barefoot for some time and the wounds make him wince. With only a moment's hesitation, Mando leans forward and clears his throat.
"I can take a look at the wounds on your feet if you want."
"Do they look bad?"
"A few. Do they hurt?"
The slow nod of her head is enough to make him purse his lips and he slowly pulls his chair closer to hers. Her knees are between his and he isn't sure if he should reach for her ankle or if he should wait for her. He looks up at her face through the visor of his helmet and allows himself to actually look at her eyes.
The corners are a bit swollen from her crying but there are raised lines of scars that trail across her eyelids from whatever they had done to blind her. It makes the hatred for those animals bubble up inside him, hot and thick, and he clenches his fists at his sides.
Slowly, Sera slides back in her chair and lifts her left foot to drape across his knees. There is a scar on her shin that looks like a bad carpet burn and he knows enough of the slavers to know it's from a laser. They have a plethora of torture devices and he has to bite his tongue to keep from asking her about it.
Across the top of her foot, she has a cut that looks deeper now that he's seeing it up close and he traces the edge of it with his gloved thumb. She jerks out of his touch and he whips his head up to make sure she's not in pain. Her bottom lip is pinched between her teeth and Mando's hands drop from her foot.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt-"
"No, it's fine," she says with a small smile. It's the first one in days that feels genuine. "Your glove just kind of tickles."
"Oh."
His face is warm beneath his helmet and he swallows the sudden tension that arises in the back of his throat. Against his better judgment, he pulls at the fingers on his right glove until it slips away from his hand. He drops it onto the table and looks back down at her foot in his lap. The sudden nervousness was something he doesn't expect and he glances quickly to his glove. Should he slip it back on?
Touching someone skin to skin is-is it forbidden? He can't remember. It's been so long since he's actually felt someone else's body on his that his head is cloudy with confusion and something that stirs beneath the surface-something he's forced himself not to acknowledge.
Gently, he places his hand back over the warm skin of her foot and he's surprised by how soft it is. He expects the same rough touch on his hands and he wets his lips once more as he repeats the same motion from before, with his thumb. This time, Sera doesn't jerk away or say anything. She lets him touch her and he inspects each cut and bruise until he's moving to the inside of her ankle.
There's a deeper bruise, more recent than the other ones, and it's mottled with purple and green right over the bone. His fingers brush over it and Sera winces, the muscles in her legs tensing from the touch.
"This one looks bad," he finds himself saying, though his voice is barely over a whisper. He clears his throat and carefully picks her leg up. He stands from the seat and sets her foot down in it before stepping away. "I'm going to wrap it, just in case."
Somewhere in the mess of storage, he knows there are some forgotten strips of fabric that he uses for makeshift bandages. Just beneath an extra flight suit and a pair of socks, he finds them and pulls the ball of fabric strips from the shelf. When he turns back, he finds her sitting exactly as he left her.
Her hands are folded in her lap and she's staring down at the chair in front of her. Mando doesn't sit down this time. He kneels beside her foot and slips the bandage strip beneath her ankle. He slowly wraps it around and around, positioning it around her heel and the arch of her foot as well. As he ties off the end, Sera sniffs, pulling his attention up to her face.
She isn't crying, thankfully, but he can tell she's back to the same sadness from before. He shifts on his knees and places his bare hand on her shin. Before he can ask her what's wrong, the sound of her quiet voice silences him.
"Why are you so good to me?"
The question stuns him too much to respond and his hand slowly slips away from her. A thousand reasons pop up into his head and he can't pick a single one to tell her. None of them sound right and so he stays quiet-about that at least.
Din stands from the floor and she follows him with her milky, white gaze. He reaches for his glove, slips it on, and opens his mouth to tell her he'll take care of her other foot. Once again, he's cut off but not by her voice this time.
From up above them in the cockpit, there's a small shriek followed by the tell-tale whine that lets Mando know that the kid is awake and not in a good mood. He sighs and glances toward the ladder leading up to the top deck. Now would be as good a time as any to introduce the two of them and he turns to face Sera.
She tilts her head to the side, listening to the sounds with a frown of confusion across her brows. "What's that?"
"That...is a kid. My kid, apparently."
He moves toward the ladder and puts one foot on the rung when Sera is on her feet as soon as the words register in her head. Mando braces himself for the reaction and hesitates before heading up to the cockpit. With a glance over his shoulder, he finds her staring after him, her jaw hanging open in surprise.
"You have a kid?"