Hi folks!
Thanks to everyone who has been following and reviewing. You guys are awesome! This chapter is a lot longer than I originally anticipated. I had an idea of what I wanted to do and before I knew it, it was nearly twice as long as I planned. I tried to break it into two chapters but couldn't make that work. So enjoy this extra-long chapter! Also, I wanted to mention that I purposely did something with Din's name that might make some readers confused. But I promise I will explain what it means in a later chapter. For now, enjoy!
-Moki
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Din Djarin was doing his best not to scream.
There was no logical reason for Din to scream right then. No actual basis in reality for the terror. Unlike recent times where he'd had every reason in the world to scream, Din was not at that moment being beaten, electrocuted, blasted, bludgeoned, stabbed, or suffering any of the other physical brutalities that Gideon had seen fit to force upon his person.
In fact, Din was alone in his cell. The one place he had felt safe in this world, had now become increasingly more and more dangerous. It felt wrong to admit that this place had become his sanctuary but when suffering as he had, a cell was as good as life got.
But not anymore. Even though Gideon hadn't sent anyone in there with him. Even though there weren't any weapons trained on him. Actually, the truth was that nothing at all was happening.
And therein lay the problem.
Din was now in "Phase Three" of Gideon's plans and he sincerely hoped there was no "Phase Four."
It had started so simply the first time. They had just turned out the lights.
Din had been used to nearly constant light after becoming a prisoner. His captors never turned down the lights in his cell during their night cycle. He assumed that was so they could observe him in case he ever tried to escape, or just to make it that much harder for him to sleep. Either way, if Din wanted to sleep, he'd adjust the visual controls on his helmet to turn down the brightness. Though after a while he stopped bothering with them at all. He'd gotten used to it and was usually so exhausted or so ready to pass out from injuries that light had little bearing on whether he would sleep or not.
The first time the Darkness came, it was a surprise. Din waited to see if maybe Gideon was going to send something or someone into his cell to fight him. But nothing ever came. The Darkness became unnerving but not the worst thing he'd had to endure. He waited it out and soon the lights were turned back on and as soon as they were, guards appeared to take him to the debriefing room. That's when he knew for sure that it was another part of Gideon's plan.
The second time it happened, Din just rolled over and went to sleep. It was easier to rest in the pitch black anyway.
The third time it happened; the Darkness went on much longer than before. Din's tenuous hold on time slipped away that much farther. He didn't know if hours had passed or days. After a while, Din felt even his sense of equilibrium thrown off from the lack of light. He became dizzy and disoriented, unable to use his sight to tell if he was right side up or upside down.
As it wore on, Din had even tried varying the visual settings on his helmet, but nothing was able to penetrate the absolute blackness they had created in his cell. There was no sound, no sight and as more time passed, it became harder to keep from panicking.
Eventually, the lights returned but not before Din had had to calm himself down more than once. The whole thing had felt like being trapped in hell.
By the tenth time it happened, Din couldn't help the racing of his heart when the lights went out, not knowing how long it would last this time. The panic came on faster and stayed with him the whole time. He tried to go to sleep but found that he couldn't. His heart kept racing and he soon started walking around the cell, keeping a hand on the wall to guide himself. He went round and round like that for who knew how long.
By the time it was over, and the lights returned, Din was shaky and slightly delusional. He forgot for long moments at a time where he was and why. At one point he forgot who he was. His already tired, starving, beaten body didn't have any energy to offer his mind. Instead, he found his body pulling him farther down toward insanity.
If he'd been in excellent health, Din probably would have survived the Darkness without a problem. Choosing to inflict this on the Mandalorian after weeks of other torture, while also withholding food and water ensured Gideon that his prisoner would lose his mind.
Exactly as the Moff wanted.
After that, dealing with the Darkness got harder for Din and (he was miserable to admit, even to himself) more terrifying.
Soon Din's tormented mind filled with more and more awful thoughts each time he was trapped in the Darkness.
One time he thought, what if Bo had destroyed the base but Din's cell had been buried under the rubble? Was he now trapped in darkness alone until he died of thirst and starvation? They would have no way of knowing he was alive under there. He imagined the other Mandalorians rebuilding Mandalore and celebrating their new lives as he slowly rotted away in the dark all alone, without even a weapon to use to end his own misery.
Another time Din thought, what if Gideon decided to cut off the air to his cell and slowly suffocate him? That idea made his throat close up and he had to sit up suddenly, grabbing for the wall to steady himself as he blinked rapidly. He had to work hard to breathe down from the panic that clutched his lungs. Then he walked around the cell until the lights returned, exhausted and shaking when they had come to take him to the debriefing room.
Once, when the Darkness came, Din was again a boy being put into an underground storage space. Trapped helpless in the dark as his parents died, closing his eyes, and waiting for death when the B2 battle droid came. Only this time no hand reached for him, no Mandalorian was there to pull him out of the Darkness and make him safe again.
It was moments like those that Din had to fight to keep from screaming. When he lost the hold he had on reality and didn't know if he'd ever wake up from this living nightmare.
Soon his lucid moments became farther and farther apart, as the fear and insanity of living in a world of so much darkness, pain, hunger, and fatigue stripped more and more of Din away.
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Days continued to go by. The Darkness returned again and again. At some point Din realized he wasn't sure what was real any longer.
One day Din was taken to the debriefing room and strapped down, but for all he knew, he could have been dreaming everything that was happening.
Gideon walked into his view, smiling evilly as he always did.
This might be real, Din thought.
"I've never had anyone make it past Phase Two before. Thank you for that Din Djarin. I've actually had to come up with more things to do. You're making this so fun for me."
Din literally thought he was going to vomit inside his helmet. Something about a man taking such pleasure in doing what was being done to him, just added to how awful he felt, and it was almost too much to take. But he swallowed hard and took deep breaths through his nose to fight the nausea.
"I told you when we first began our journey here together," the Moff continued, not noticing, or not caring about Din's discomfort. "That I wouldn't ask you anything. That was both true and not true. I'm not going to ask you any questions. I don't need to know where the Mandalorians are hiding. I don't care about the Child any longer. You have no information that I need."
He held up a hand, pointing a finger to the ceiling to emphasize his next point.
"But I will ask you something. Or rather for something. All of this can stop right now. The endless torture, the darkness, all of it."
Din didn't even bother to turn his head. He knew it was never going to be as simple as Gideon was making it sound.
"All I need from you is to admit that you yield. That's it. So simple." He shrugged.
Din closed his eyes. He hated that a part of him was almost tempted.
Almost.
"It's just like when taking part in a friendly sparring match. Your opponent gets the best of you, and you yield. We've all done it while training. It's how you know you've won a battle that can't end in death."
Din was familiar, it was how he trained with his fellow Mandalorians. But Din knew that Gideon wasn't just going to let him go.
"Now, this battle will end in your death. I'm sorry that I can't offer your freedom," Gideon said, confirming Din's thoughts. "Your life, your freedom, those were never an option. But I can offer you an end to your suffering. I can offer you a warrior's death."
Gideon had been walking around the table and now turned to look at the Mandalorian again.
"It doesn't have to be complicated. I'll accept a simple 'I yield' or even 'yield'. At this point I'd even accept a single word, a request of 'mercy'." Gideon said, acting as if he were offering something so easy and being incredibly generous.
Gideon waved over Din's shoulder and suddenly a droid he hadn't noticed rolled his way.
Before Din could wrap his tired mind around what was happening, the droid suddenly grabbed his calf in its metal claws. This was something new and he didn't know what to make of it until the thing began slowly squeezing tighter and tighter. Din felt his skin starting to tear and his bones creaking under the pressure. His boot was no match for the metal hand and Din had to clamp his jaws shut, gripping his hands into fists as he panted through the agony.
"No? Nothing?" Gideon said with fake disappointment. "Okay then, perhaps another time. For now, here's a little reminder as to why you might want to think about accepting my offer. Remember, things will only continue to get worse from here."
With another wave of his hand, Gideon gave the droid an order and suddenly the thing increased pressure until Din heard his leg snap.
As he screamed, Gideon came close. "No, not just a scream. I need an actual word, Mando." He spit out the last word as an insult.
But Din couldn't have said anything then if he wanted. The pain and shock had sucked all of the air out of his lungs, and he had to concentrate to get oxygen into his body. Gideon gave up and had him dragged back to his cell. His broken leg trailed painfully behind as they carried him. When they arrived at his cell, Din grabbed for the wall as they let him go. He hopped and limped his way back over to his cot.
Din grunted and half-sobbed, tears streaming down his face as he lifted his leg onto the bench. He laid down and closed his eyes, willing himself to pass out, but it didn't happen. The one time he wanted to escape into oblivion, his body stubbornly stayed awake. Shaking and moaning, he lay there doing his best not to yell out loud as every inadvertent movement brought bolts of pain through his body.
He didn't know how long he laid there like that. After a while he wondered if shock was going to take him and finally end all this. It was just too much. His body never had any time to recover in between each injury. Burns, electrocutions, beatings and now a major broken bone to go with some of the smaller breaks he'd already suffered. The list just kept on adding up.
Through a haze of pain and near unconsciousness, Din heard his cell door open, but he didn't have the energy to move or even open his eyes. If they wanted him, they were going to have to carry him.
He heard a whir and beeping. Opening his eyes, he saw a medical droid roll towards him.
What the hell?
Why would Gideon treat him? Why help him?
But it wasn't help. Not really. Din figured that out pretty quick.
The droid went about its duty. It started by resetting his broken bones without bothering to administer any anesthetic. The droid just grabbed his limbs and wrenched them back into place as Din bit hard on his lip to keep from screaming.
Some bacta was then sprayed on the worst of his injuries. Not a lot, just enough. Then he was offered some water and sat up to drink it gratefully. Again, it was not a lot, just enough. After that, the droid left and Din was relieved. This "treatment" had been more painful than some of his trips to the debriefing room.
This wasn't help. Gideon wasn't trying to make him better. He just wanted him alive. If anything, this half-attempt at treatment was worse. It had brought Din out of shock and planted him right back in the pain of his slowly healing wounds. Dying would be easier but oh no, Gideon wouldn't want that.
It took a while, but Din eventually felt the pull of unconsciousness and he welcomed it. His heavy eyes drooped and soon he was dreaming of his childhood home again.
He could hear his mother calling his name.
"Djarin! Djarin!"
Din mumbled in a language his lips barely remembered.
"Take me with you. I don't want to be alone. It hurts."
His mother and father were smiling down at him.
"You must stay. There is another who needs you more than we do."
"Don't leave me again. Please don't leave me again!" He was now an adult, but hunkered down in the storage room, reaching up towards his parents as they closed the door and trapped him in the darkness.
In his dream he screamed. But in the real world, Din's weakened body barely moved, conserving strength even in sleep. His lips only mumbled the words. Even if someone had been in his cell, no one would have heard them.
Far, far away, green ears twitched. Big brown eyes opened, filled with tears. The words weren't understood but the pain, the loneliness and heartbreak were felt all the same.
Grogu hummed and whined, clasping at the blankets, wishing with all his might that he was held against beskar. He'd gladly trade the soft blankets for the unyielding metal that came with its own kind of warmth. The kind provided by the heart of the man beneath it.
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Bo had had yet another frustrating meeting with Axe. It wasn't that the man wasn't doing his job, in point of fact he was doing great at it. He had managed to make his way into the base multiple times by incapacitating an officer and stealing their identity.
Soon after, Axe had found the armory and gotten himself a stormtrooper beskar suit and hidden it away, which allowed him to go back any time. Without alerting them to his presence, Axe had been making some headway on locating where they were keeping Din, but it wasn't easy. The base was still new and parts of it weren't showing up on schematics on their system.
Axe had to resort to walking the base on foot to try and scope it out and had been making his own crude map. It was slow work getting through the myriad of tunnels and so far, he hadn't found the location of any sort of brig that might be housing prisoners. He had only continued to narrow down the search by marking off places where he knew Din wasn't.
"I'm sorry it's not better news," Axe said as he finished his latest debriefing.
It took a moment for the exhaustion in his voice to break through Bo's own frustration.
"No, I'm sorry. You've done excellent work. I couldn't have done better myself and I know that. Now go, head to your bunk and rest. We'll reconvene in a day or two and work on our next plan."
Gratefully, Axe put his fist to his chest and bowed as he left her presence.
Once Axe left, the other almost constant presence in Bo's life appeared. But this one had changed. If he was a figment of her mind, then obviously she was done lying to herself.
"You shouldn't be so hard on him; you know he's trying." Imagine Din said, his voice sounding weary.
Bo avoided looking up for as long as possible, not relishing what she was sure to see. When she did, she was correct in her assumption. Knowing what she now knew and confirmed about his treatment, Imagine Din no longer looked like the Din she remembered.
His armor was scuffed and covered in blaster burns. His leathers were shredded, and blood dripped through the tears. He no longer leaned nonchalantly against the wall in his usual slouch. Now he leaned against it with one arm, barely holding himself upright. His helmeted head hung low and moved achingly with every labored breath.
"I'm trying, too." She whispered back.
Bo hated the way the vision now looked to her, but she couldn't imagine Din well and healthy any longer, no matter how hard she tried. That had just been a fantasy, a way to make herself feel better. She had fooled herself into thinking maybe Din would just be a prisoner, or that maybe Gideon would do some questioning but give up and leave him to rot in a cell. It wouldn't have been great, but it would be better than what she knew was probably happening to him, based on Grogu's continued nightmares and visions.
Thinking of the man who helped their people, who never hesitated to sacrifice himself for others, now being tortured by a man that evil, it made her sick. Bo often had the horrible thought that it would almost be better if Din were dead.
"Maybe you should give up on me. Destroy the base and let me go," Imagine Din said, echoing her thoughts.
"Never." She looked at him, wishing that she could somehow get a message to the real Din and let him know they hadn't given up and that he shouldn't either.
It might be easier to wish that he was dead, that his suffering was over. But he wasn't and it wasn't. Bo couldn't make it all go away by ignoring it. All she could do was push forward and get Din back where he belonged. Then she could concentrate on killing Moff Gideon and getting their home back.
Imagine Din vanished as quickly as he appeared, and she was glad. Where he had once been a reassuring sight, now she hated when he came to "visit." He only served as a reminder of her failures.
Bo took a deep breath and decided it was time for her to leave. She had been making more of an effort to head back to her room to sleep. It wasn't just for her own well-being; she had noticed that Grogu slept better and didn't seem to be as disturbed by visions and nightmares when she was there.
She laid down on her bunk and felt the small ball of warmth curl up beside her. He didn't do it all the time, only when the dreams (or visions, really) were especially bad. It disturbed her to notice how often that happened.
As she lay there, Bo got an idea of something that might help both Grogu and Din. She didn't know what they were doing to Din but if the child's reaction was any indication, and knowing the Empire as she did, it wasn't anything good.
She didn't want Din to lose hope and let go before they got there. She imagined that the brutality was only getting worse and that they were doing things to him that would kill a lesser person. She needed him to keep fighting and stay alive. It had taken far longer than they wanted to mount this rescue mission. It would be easy after so many days for Din to think that no help was coming. Losing hope might be the most dangerous factor in getting him back alive.
She put her hand on the child and rubbed his back.
"Grogu." He hadn't really been asleep and looked up at her almost instantly. She saw his eyes glistening in the soft light coming under her door from the hallway.
"Can you talk to your dad? Do you think you can you get a message to him?"
Grogu hesitated, then slowly nodded his head. Then immediately shook it, then nodded again. He frowned and looked at her helplessly, hoping she understood.
"I think I got that. Maybe not words? Something else?" Bo asked quietly.
He nodded his head again slowly, but still looked unsure.
"Can you tell him we're coming for him? That he can't give up. That he needs to keep fighting?"
Grogu thought about it for a moment, then he nodded, and she saw his eyes close as he concentrated.
Lightyears away, in the middle of the pain and the darkness that had become his world, Din felt something new.
Something was tapping on the back of his mind. Not a voice, not a sound. Emotion. An overwhelming feeling of... love... suddenly hit him.
Din started awake. The movement caused all the wounds in various stages of healing to broadcast messages of pain, but he ignored all of it for the moment.
He expected the feelings to fade as he slowly pulled out of sleep, sure that it must have been part of a dream. But amazingly, the feeling of love stayed and if anything grew a little stronger.
But it made no sense. There was no reason to feel that emotion where he was. Why would he feel that way?
The feeling washing over him reminded Din of how he felt when he would run into his mother's arms when he was a young one. After he had been at school all day and it felt like he hadn't seen her in forever. He would launch himself into her arms and be enveloped in a hug. He had felt it physically and in his soul. Pure love.
Then the feelings changed and suddenly pride came through. Pride, trust, and more love. Those feelings reminded him of his father. After Din learned a new skill and made his father proud, he would lift him into a hug. Again, he had felt it to his very soul.
Where was this coming from? How would he feel this now? Who would...
"Grogu?"
He didn't say it out loud. It was more a word said in his mind. But when he did, the emotions got stronger, as if confirming his feelings. The message was coming from far away and Din was grateful for that. He didn't want the kid anywhere near where he was.
More love. Then honor, pride, trust, and finally...
Hope.
They were coming for him. Grogu was letting him know they were coming. Din felt his heart almost burst with pride for the magic the kid had managed to create, for the brief respite in the nightmare.
Then the connection stopped, and tears fell underneath the stoic mask of beskar as the man beneath it cried in joy and sadness. Joy to have felt that bond with Grogu, however brief, and the sadness of being apart from him for so long.