chapter two: she can handle it
Rey wakes early the next morning, before Mando and Dyn are up. She listens to the quiet of the RV for a minute, Dyn's steady, rhythmic breaths on the bunk beneath her and Mando's low, growly snores further away. These are sounds she's grown used to, and they bring her a measure of comfort. But her mind is already racing and she can't stay here listening to it for long. Something restless needs to be set free. So she slips quietly off her bunk in the back of the RV and puts on some leggings, a moisture-wicking tee, and an oversized sweater and then heads out into the frosty morning.
Dawn is still pale and new on the horizon. The rolling fields between the RV park and the city look like they're made of twinkling glass, each blade delicate and white. Rey breathes in biting, sharp morning air and centers her mind.
She had trouble sleeping last night, but that's nothing new. She has never been a great sleeper. She is often plagued by this hollow, gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like she is still in the desert of Arizona, waiting. Waiting for something.
Maybe today that waiting would finally end. She's ready to take this step into adulthood and prove herself as a bounty hunter.
—Fugitive recovery agent, she corrects herself wryly. Mando gets annoyed when she uses the more colorful job description.
He doesn't want her to do this, which only makes her want to do it more. Their relationship has always been complicated like that. She tells him she wants to become a bounty hunter because it's the life she knows, he set the example, and she wants to become his partner, but the truth is that it's more than that. Her reasons for wanting to do this run so much deeper.
She starts to jog, away from the RV park and down a bike path that leads into the fields.
Rey has always needed so much more from Mando than he has been willing to give. She needed a father, but he refused to let her place him in that role. She needed affection from him, but he kept her at arm's length, this weird little barnacle he can't get rid of. She knows he cares, in his own awkward way — probably why he's so determined that she not follow in his footsteps, but she still hungers for more. She can admit to herself that she's chasing his approval by following his footsteps, even if he says he doesn't want her to do it.
Rey's breath ghosts in front of her in the cold morning air, coming harder now as her lungs start to burn.
Mando is different with Dyn. Maybe because Dyn came to them three years ago as this tiny little baby, meaning Mando has well and truly raised him, or maybe because he has learned something from Rey, or maybe because Dyn seems to draw love out of everyone he meets. Rey doesn't know the reason, but she knows that Mando is so much more fatherly to the kid than he has ever been with Rey.
She doesn't resent Dyn for that. He can't help it, and she's happy he'll get more from Mando than she ever did. But kriff, it hurts.
Sometimes she watches them together and has the peculiar sensation that she is the outsider, and this was the family they were supposed to be.
She runs faster, trying to outpace that twist of pain in her chest.
It's why today is so important. She has to become a bounty hunter — fugitive recovery agent, Rey! — and insist he take her on as a partner, or else she'll have to find something else to do with her life, and they'll eventually move on without her.
That can't happen.
Through her mind flickers the image of the psychic she helped Mando track down a few weeks ago. Mama Maz, they called her. She failed to appear in court on a minor misdemeanor charge, so they were tasked with bringing her in. But Mama Maz was docile and calm, one of the more dignified fugitives they'd ever tracked down. While Rey waited with her in the car, Mando had to subdue a couple big bikers who were trying to keep him from taking her. Mama Maz looked and Rey and said she could see Rey's pain. She told Rey she wouldn't find belonging behind her, but that it yet lay ahead.
Rey thought it was a bunch of nonsense at the time, and she still does. But right now the words keep echoing around her head and she resents them. She doesn't want the assurance that one day she'll find people to whom she can belong. She wants that already. She wants to belong here, with Mando and Dyn.
She runs until her lungs and legs are on fire, until her mind is finally clear and she is ready. Then she turns and uses the jog back to cool down.
By the time she gets there, Mando is awake, pouring Dyn some cereal. He doesn't say anything to her as she enters the trailer and heads for the bathroom. He's still waiting for her to change her mind. She knows this - can feel it the way she can feel the right words people need to calm down. Well, he can wait forever as far as she is concerned. She's not changing her mind about this.
She showers and changes into practical, tactically appropriate attire. She wears tan cargo pants with thermals beneath, loading the pockets with rubber rounds, taser cartridges, pepper pellets, and both steel and zip cuffs. She hasn't needed to use these often, but she intends to have them on hand just in case. On top she wears a white thermal long sleeve under a light sand-colored tee. It hugs her close, which is important. She can't afford to have much slack for some angry skip or his defensive family to grab onto. She throws her hair up into a bun and assesses herself in the mirror. Yes, this would do.
She comes out and gives Dyn a kiss on the top of his head. "You gonna miss me today, pal?"
He turns his enormous green eyes on her in dismay, talking through a mouthful of cereal and milk. "Where are you going?"
She snags a paper towels to catch the drips running off his chin. "I'm going to work."
"But you said you were done with work." He frowns.
"Rey is going to go to my work today," Mando says, sliding onto the bench across from the kid. "We're going with her, then we'll come back and it'll be you and me."
Dyn's face lights up. "You're staying home?"
Mando nods. He glances at Rey. "Take a second and eat something. It could be a long day."
She fries herself an egg and makes a piece of toast. Her stomach is tight and nervous, she doesn't know that she really wants to eat, but as usually happens when a trace of food comes near her mouth, she wolfs it down with all the desperation of her days starving in the desert. She feels better after.
…
Rey drives her own car to Nevarro Bail Bonds. She already installed the cage between the front and passenger seats, put bars on her windows, and her trunk is stocked with supplies she snagged from Mando's stockpile. She is nervous, but determined and ready.
Mando and Dyn park behind her. They follow her into the office.
The owner is there, a middle-aged black man with a thin mustache and short-cropped hair. He stands up when she walks in, his gaze flicking from her to Mando behind them.
"Right on time, Djarin clan," he says, giving Rey a significant look. "Have a seat, darling. Hey, tiny man."
Dyn grins and gives Griff a fist-bump as Rey sinks into the seat on the customer side of the desk. She's been through this routine enough times with Mando, so she is ready when Griff pulls out a thick file folder.
"Mando, explain to me again why she has to do this alone?" Griff asks as he shuffled through the papers inside. "I'm not comfortable sending a little girl like her out into the field by herself. If she runs into multiple hostiles, they could ambush her and take her down easy."
"I know how to take care of myself," Rey assures him. She is cool composure. "And I have to do my first one alone."
"But why?" Griff presses.
Mando speaks from behind her. "This is the way."
Rey stifles the impulse to roll her eyes. Griff does it for her instead, expressing as much exasperation for Mando's superstitions as she feels too. He purses his lips and returns his attention back to Rey.
"Are you really choosing to follow his mumbo jumbo religion?"
"No," replies Rey. "But I will honor this one last custom, so he has to recognize me as an adult."
Mando says nothing, and Rey knows it's because there is nothing he can say. His religion dictates that all who seek to earn privileges and come of age must pass a test of their fortitude and character, unassisted. He's never made her participate in his practices, but she has chosen to follow this one. The advantages outweigh the nuisance. This first solo bounty will be her test.
Griff is incredulous. He looks at Mando. "Is this about dating? Will you not let her date until she proves she can kick some ass?"
Mando laughs, soft and low. "She can already do that, and no. It doesn't have to do with dating. She can do that whenever she wants."
He's never talked to her about boys, or girls for that matter, and Rey has never asked. In high school a couple guys tried to cozy up to her, but she wasn't interested. They both thought she'd be easy, being a girl without parents and a disinterested guardian. She wasn't. Whatever social rituals people usually went through in high school, Rey had skipped them. She wasn't able to connect meaningfully to any of the kids at the mostly affluent, nuclear family-oriented school and so she preferred to be the loner nobody paid attention to, disappearing during lunch to work on her machines. After high school things didn't really change in that regard. A few creeps had tried to hit on her at the auto shop, and she was pretty certain by now that guys really had nothing interesting to offer.
Rey taps her fingers impatiently on the table. "I just want the job, okay?"
Griff shakes his head. "I'm gonna need you to sign a whole bunch of indemnity waivers, kiddo. This is a bad idea, but if you're determined to do it, I can't be help responsible."
"I wouldn't do that to you," Rey says.
He slides the paperwork over anyway, and she signs everything he wants her to. When she's done, he trades her for the file folder.
She flips it open to see a mugshot clipped to the first leaf of paper. It's a middle-aged white man with hazel eyes, a scruffy beard and admittedly great hair, thoroughly salted and peppered now. He's wearing a kind of smirk.
Griff explains. "This is Han Solo. He's a smuggler, specializing in trafficked electronics, foods, and sometimes exotic animals. He has warrants out in several states. He was arrested for possession of stolen goods here a few months ago. We conducted our business, got him out, but his trial is finally coming up. He's not a skip — yet, but we know he will. He's got that reputation. Don't worry, he's non-violent, but he won't be easy to catch. The guy is slippery."
Rey studies in the face in the picture. His cocky grin tells her he doesn't mind getting his mugshot taken. There is confidence in that face, the confidence of someone who knows he isn't going to jail.
"Family?"
"That one's been tricky to pin down," Griff acknowledges. "We have some evidence to suggest he was married once, but the records are confusing, some of them are redacted or the information has been restricted. Either way, it seems he hasn't been in communication with his ex in a few years. He was believed to be out of the country until he turned up here earlier this year."
"Do we have a last known location?" Rey rifles through the paperwork, glancing over his priors. Some minor assault charges, but nothing alarming. She suspects she could probably talk this guy out of trying to lash back violently, but if that foxy grin tells her anything, it's that he won't submit to arrest quietly.
Griff leans back in his chair. "My skiptracers have him in Seattle."
"Seattle?" Mando chokes.
"Seattle?" Rey echoes, brows flying up in surprise.
Seattle is far. It's at least a 24 hour drive. She glances back at Mando and Dyn. So much for trying to stay close to them so they don't settle into life without her. She'd have to make this quick.
Dyn is playing on Mando's phone, drawing with his finger in luminous green lines. Mando is squinting at Griff, his brows low and mouth thin.
"Seattle, yeah," Griff confirms. "That's why we're revoking his bail and bringing him in. He's not showing up for his trial if he's in Washington, is he?"
Rey quickly flits through the states where bounty hunting is outlawed, and doesn't think she remembers Washington among them. Oregon, yes, but she's fairly certain anything in Seattle would be fair game.
"Okay," she decides. "I can do it."
"Rey," Mando starts, but she cuts him off with a little glare.
"I can do it," she insists.
She isn't sure if his protest comes from his underlying reluctance to let her join him in his profession or if he actually cares that she has to go so far, but either way, she doesn't want it.
Griff gives Mando a look, lifting his brow. "Are you still determined she has to do it alone? If she gets into trouble way out there, she'll be too far away for a rescue."
Mando's jaw tightens repeatedly, like he's chewing back the words he wants to say. Finally, he shrugs. "If the kid thinks she can do it, we have to let her try."
Griff curses softly under his breath and throws up his hands. "Fine. Fine. You're both absolutely crazy. But if you can pull this off —" he points a finger in Rey's face, his brows lifting to lend impact to his next words, "If you can pull this off, you'll be my new go-to, got it? You'll replace this old hack as my favorite. You get the best jobs, you get the highest cut."
Rey grins. "You'd better mean that, because I'll expect you to fulfill that promise."
Griff nods, pulling his finger back to fold his arms over his chest. "I mean it."
He glances up at Mando as if expecting a protest. He doesn't get one.
Rey snags the file folder and pulls it into her messenger bag. "Can I borrow a vest?"
"In the back." Griff throws his head to the door behind him.
She stands and goes to it, ignoring whatever murmured exchange he is trying to initiate with Mando while she digs through Griff's supply closet, hauling out a bullet-proof vest labeled FUGITIVE RECOVERY on the front and back. She doesn't put it on yet, though. She won't need to for another 24 hours at least, maybe more, depending on how difficult this Han Solo guy is to track down.
Back in the office again, she signs whatever other formalities Griff needs from her and then marches back out to her car. Mando and Dyn trail behind.
She throws the things in the trunk, and gets in, heading off back to the RV park. She didn't plan to be gone for multiple days when she packed this morning, and she has to go that way to get on the road to Seattle anyway. She doesn't see if Mando and Dyn are following, she knows they'll be along shortly.
They arrive just after she's finished loading up a small backpack with a few necessary items. She doesn't have much, but she doesn't anticipate needing much. She puts the bag in her car.
Mando and Dyn have just gotten out of his. He comes over to her and leans against her door, clicking it shut again.
"In a hurry?"
"Yeah, you could say that. The sooner I get going, the sooner I nab this guy and get back."
"So you're just gonna take off without saying goodbye?"
She twirls her key ring around one finger, raising a single eyebrow at him. "You want me to?"
This catches him off guard, and he frowns. "I mean, nobody's forcing you, kid."
Dyn tugs on her sleeve. "Rey, when are you coming back from work?"
She crouches down next to him, ruffling his hair. "Not for a few days, buddy. But I will be back, don't worry."
He wraps his little arms tight around her neck, and she can feel his little heartbeat fluttering through his whole body. For as long as she's known him, Rey has resisted thinking of him as her little brother. Mando didn't want them to get too comfortable thinking they were a family — he always made that painfully clear — and so she tried not to fall into that trap. But Dyn is irresistible, and she couldn't help herself. He is the closest thing to a sibling she will ever have, and she loves him.
"Don't forget me," she pleads, a soft whisper into his hair.
Even if Mando likes Dyn better than he likes her, Dyn at least loves her. She knows this. And even if he and Mando make a more natural family than the three of them, he at least will miss her.
Eventually she makes him let go, kissing the top of his head and standing to face the man who has raised her since she was ten.
He is watching her with a hard look. An unreadable look. Even after all this time, he is something of a mystery to her. She's too tired of trying to figure him out to guess what's behind that expression now.
"Good luck," he says. "Be careful."
"I will."
"I mean it, Rey. Don't cut corners. Don't put yourself in risky circumstances. Be vigilant and cautious, and if it looks like the situation is going south, leave it. Come back and we'll find another way."
He's giving her an out. She doesn't want it.
"Don't think I can do it, huh?" she asks, more acid in her voice than she intends.
He sighs. "As it so happens I've gotten kind of used to having you around, so forgive me if I'm a little interested in your safe return."
She blinks, surprised by this. It's the closest thing to saying he cares that she's ever heard. She softens a little. "I promise to be safe."
He nods and opens her car door for her. "Call me if you need anything."
They both know she won't.
She tells them goodbye one more time and climbs in, shutting the door behind her. They don't wait to watch her go, walking back to the RV to no doubt have second breakfast. Rey sucks in a deep breath as she pulls out onto the road and starts heading for the highway. Time to see what this destiny business is all about.