A/N: Apologies for the late update! Work was extra busy this past week, so I didn't have as much writing time as usual. But here it is. Hope you all enjoy!

-Moki

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Din Djarin was finally stable.

"Well, Din, that's about all I can do for now," Med said quietly as he backed away from the exam table. He shook out his hands and stretched his back. He wasn't sure how long he'd been working on his friend. Right then it felt like it had been a few days since he'd last looked up from the seemingly endless array of wounds that covered Din's body. In actuality, it had been several hours, which was still bad enough.

Med took off his gloves and washed his hands. The medic gave another check of the monitors at the head of the table, but he didn't quite know what to do with himself after that. He knew he probably should sleep but he wasn't comfortable leaving the other Mandalorian yet.

Din was going to go through a lot in the next couple of days. Med wished he wasn't sure of that, but he'd seen cases like this too many times. Right now, Din was stable, but that could change any second. Med was prepared for the alarms above the table to start screaming practically any moment. It wasn't a pessimistic viewpoint that told him that, it was hard facts.

Din had some major injuries, and Med had only been able to provide the most basic care. He'd cleaned all of Din's wounds, stitched the ones that needed it and used sparing amounts of bacta spray on the worst of them. They didn't have a lot of the precious fluid and the medic had purposely not used all of it. Med felt it was best to apply bacta only on the serious injuries and see how they looked before applying it anywhere else. Without enough for every wound, Din was going to have to fight off a lot of the infection himself.

After puttering around trying to keep busy for a few minutes, Med remembered there was something else he could do. About once every hour he had stopped his work to get Din up and had managed to get the other man to drink water.

As had become habit throughout the long night, Med once again filled the canteen. Going back to Din's side, he put an arm under the injured man's shoulders and shifted him into a sitting position. The medic put the lip of the container to Din's mouth, but this time his patient wasn't as cooperative.

Din turned his head sideways, fighting the container being held up to his face. The injured Mandalorian wasn't fully aware of what was happening.

"Nice try, but that didn't work when we were kids and it's not working now," Med grumbled good-naturedly. "You know I always beat you in wrestling. Now drink."

Din still fought, and Med sighed.

"Din, come on. Please. You need this."

Din shifted his head more forcefully, mumbling incoherently, leaving Med to wonder if he was having a flashback to that awful place. It would explain why he was fighting. The medic kept talking to him, trying to get through to his friend and help him understand that he was safe now.

"Din, don't fight me on this. You're okay. You're back home, but you need to drink. You're still severely dehydrated and we don't have any other way to get fluids into you."

Din raised a hand, trying to push the medic away. The movement was weak and easily countered, but Med was afraid he wasn't going to get any water into his patient. Not only that, but he could feel the other man's heart racing. A quick look at the monitor confirmed his suspicion. Din was reacting like he was under attack, maybe feeling he was back in whatever room they had done the torture that was evident across his body. Med needed Din to calm down, any expended energy wasn't good for him now.

"Djar, hey, it's me," Med said soothingly, using a name he hadn't called his friend in years. "It's Med. Come on, I need you to drink."

At the old nickname, Din calmed a little but still didn't accept the water. When Din turned his head away again, Med couldn't help but let a little annoyance sneak its way into his voice. He wasn't actually upset, it was a way to cover up just how scared he was for his old friend.

"Din Djarin, for kriff's sake. You need to drink. Do it for your foundling if you're too stubborn to fight for yourself," his words were far fiercer than his tone, which was still soothing in nature.

As if he heard what the medic said, Din finally stopped fighting. He allowed the canteen to be put to his lips again and this time he accepted the water. Somewhere deep down, Din's instincts took over, realizing he needed to drink if he was to get well.

Once he got some liquid into Din, Med gently laid him on the table.

"Good. Now go back to sleep."

Med shook his head as he watched Din settle down again.

I really hope he's not going to do that every time.

Med moved idly around the room for a little while longer, still not feeling as though he could leave Din alone yet. Not even to grab the sleep that he desperately needed. He busied himself with cleaning up the last of the blood and gore from around the table, loading the sheets and towels he had used into the sanitizer. He had already dumped a previous load into it, very glad that piece of equipment in the medbay was fully functional.

The medic heard hesitant footsteps coming down the passageway and looked up to see who it was. A man stepped into the doorway, looking first to Din and then to him. Med recognized him as the man from Bo's tribe who had been the one to gather all the intel to get Din back. He was also the one who brought Med water when he had started treating Din in the hangar.

"Axe, right?" Med asked.

"Yeah, sorry I didn't catch your name."

"You can call me Med."

"Med, I just…. I wanted…." Axe was looking at the quiet form on the exam table. "How is he?" He finally got out.

"Stable. Still a long way to go, but in a much better place thanks to you and the rest of the team."

Axe shrugged. "I only did what we all would do for another Mandalorian in need of help."

Med nodded in agreement. "Of course."

Axe came closer to Din's bed and Med could see the surprise on his face.

"His eyes. How did you…?"

"That wasn't me. That was his founding," Med said.

"I knew the child was special but I never…" Axe just shook his head, unable to finish. He looked at Med again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb your work."

"Actually, your timing is perfect. Can you help me get him to the bed? I'm done for now and I happen to know that sleeping on an exam table is extremely uncomfortable, so I'd rather get him moved."

Axe huffed in amusement. "I agree, those tables are awful."

They shared a chuckle as two Mandalorians who'd had their fair share of injuries and time in a medbay.

Med prepared one of the beds near the opposite wall of the room, pulling down the top sheet and blanket. The bed was also equipped with monitors but was padded and much more comfortable for the injured man.

Going back to the exam table, the medic punched in commands to move it near the bed and lowered it down to the bed's height. Working together, Med and Axe got Din transferred easily. Med had already put Din in one of the soft hospital robes he'd found in the supplies, wanting him to stay as warm as possible. Once Din was in the bed, Med covered him with the sheet and blanket, then added another blanket as well. Luckily, he had found the cruiser well equipped with those kinds of supplies.

When he was done getting Din situated, Med turned to Axe and fixed him with a pointed stare, evident even through his helmet.

"Checking on him wasn't your only reason to come up here, was it?" Med asked.

Axe looked at the medic, surprised at the other man's tone. He backed away unconsciously but couldn't hide the slight groan as he stumbled when putting weight onto his right leg.

Med studied Axe. He hadn't missed the limp, even though Axe had hidden it well. The medic had only noticed it when they had transferred Din to the bed, forcing Axe to use that leg more than before.

"Why did you really come up here?"

"To check on him. I helped rescue him and I wanted to be sure he was okay." Axe protested.

"I do believe that," Med agreed, knowing the man spoke the truth. "But I think there's something else, too."

"I'm fine."

"Sure, whatever you say. But I should warn you that I've got a lie detector that is always spot-on. He can tell you when he's awake," Med jutted his chin towards Din's sleeping form. "He used to try and come back from bounties that went to hell and then claim he was fine. I saw straight through it every time."

Axe didn't look certain. He couldn't see the medic's eyes through the helmet, yet he still felt like the man was staring straight through him.

"Tell you what, I'm going to make it easy on you," Med said, crossing his arms. "Here's what's going to happen. Either you get on the table, or I'm putting you on the table. Your choice."

Axe tried to protest again and decided against it. Medic or not, Axe had a feeling the other man would give him quite a fight. Besides, how ridiculous was it to keep fighting? He did need help.

"Okay. I'll go, I'll go." Axe held up his hands as Med moved the exam table back to its usual position. Axe jumped up easily, shifting sideways to put his legs onto the table.

"I think I just twisted my ankle. It doesn't feel broken. Must've happened during the battle at the base. I didn't even notice the pain until hours later."

Med carefully slipped off Axe's boot. The other man hissed but didn't fight it. He'd much rather have the boot taken off than cut off.

"Adrenaline. Wonderful thing," Med said in response to Axe's last comment. "I think you're right. Just a sprain."

"Good. I can deal with that. And don't even suggest using bacta on me, I don't need it. I know you don't have much and all of it's needed for him," Axe turned to look at Din on the bed.

"Alright," Med agreed. He didn't like withholding something that would help an injury, but he also knew Axe would be fine without it.

"I can at least wrap it for you," Med said. "That should help. You just need to keep it elevated as much as you can for the next few days."

"Sure, that I can do. Thanks."

Med finished wrapping the ankle and Axe put his boot back on, happy that the support from the wrap made the injury much better. Med held out his arm as the other Mandalorian hopped off the table to land on one leg before putting the other one down gingerly. With the wrap, Axe found he could almost put his full weight on his leg. He was about to thank the medic again when suddenly the scanners and alarms over Din's bed started going off.

Med was at the fallen Mandalorian's side in an instant, studying the screens with a worried frown under his helmet.

"Din Djarin, don't you dare," he whispered fiercely.

"What's happening?" Axe asked, coming up on the other side of the bed.

"He's crashing."

"I thought he was okay. The kid…"

"The kid took care of most of the damage to his eyes. He's a kriffing mess everywhere else," Med said as he kept checking the machines. He didn't have a lot of options if Din's organs shut down, and he wanted to see if the injured man's vitals might settle on their own. He was relieved to see that Din was still breathing, but his blood pressure had dropped dangerously low.

"Come on, come on, come on," Med mumbled, reaching into a compartment under the bed and pulling out an oxygen mask. He made adjustments to the flow, then put it over Din's face. Once again thankful for the few supplies that were plentiful in the medical unit.

Axe stood aside helplessly. Unlike when they'd been at the base surrounded by stormtroopers, this wasn't an enemy he could fight, and he hated it. At least with a typical foe, and his blaster or his vibroblade, he could make the danger disappear if a friend was in trouble. But there was nothing he could do here.

The medic felt almost as helpless. He hated that his options were so limited and there wasn't more he could do for Din. Med knew his friend was strong though and had to hope that Din would keep fighting.

"What can I do?" Axe asked when the monitors kept up their warnings.

"Bring me more blankets, they're stored in the cabinets next to the sink." Axe did as he was asked, coming back with every blanket he found.

"Stack two of them under his legs when I pick them up." Med raised Din's legs and Axe put the blankets underneath.

The medic hoped that would be enough to bring Din's pressure back up. But he needed to be ready just in case that didn't work.

"Grab me that kit," Med ordered, pointing to the bag near the exam table. Axe brought it to him, and the medic took out a stimshot. He really didn't want to use it, but he would if he had to. Stimshots were meant for emergencies, but they weren't a replacement for typical meds used when a patient was crashing. Unfortunately, it was all Med had at his disposal.

"Come on, Djar, don't do this to me now. We just got you back. You've got a kid. You can't give up."

As they watched, Din's levels continued to bottom out. The alarms grew stronger, and Med sighed.

"Dank Farrik."

It was time for the last resort. Med popped the cover off the needle of the stimshot and plunged it into Din's arm.

The room was tense as the two men watched the monitors. Axe didn't even know what he was looking for, except for the silence of the relentless beeping.

It was the longest thirty seconds either of them had ever waited until the monitors quieted and the readings slowly returned to normal. Both of them let out a heavy breath, sharing a look between them.

Med put the lid back on the used stimshot, ready to dispose of it. "I understand I have you to thank for these so, thank you."

Axe shrugged. "It was dumb luck, really. I stumbled across their medbay on one of my trips. Every time I went back after that, I took whatever I could. But not having a stitch of medical training, other than emergency training for the field, I didn't know what else we'd need. I just took things I understood. Stimshots were one of those things. I've been hit with a few myself."

"You did good," Med reassured him as he dumped the shot into the container for medical waste.

"I wish I could have gotten more, but it was hard as hell to hide anything in those stormtrooper suits," Axe admitted, shaking his head ruefully.

"Well, remember that you got the shot that just saved his life." Med reminded him.

Axe nodded.

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Bo woke to find Grogu still asleep on his cot, covered in the blanket she had put on him before collapsing into her own bed. She was sure they had both slept better the previous night than either of them had in weeks.

Bo showered and dressed, and still the child slept. She got some food from the galley and brought it back to her room to eat. She brought some for Grogu, but he kept sleeping. She waited a while longer to see if would wake up and finally decided she couldn't wait anymore to see Din.

Scooping up the kid, Bo went to the medical floor and headed for the room where they had treated the injured Mandalorian.

She paused outside the door, unsure if she should simply walk in if Med was still working on Din. But after a moment's hesitation she signaled the door open and stepped inside.

Bo's first thought was that Din looked better, which eased the tension she'd been holding in her shoulders. Med had cleaned his wounds and with that, all the blood was gone as well. The absence of the blood, along with the sight of the wounds covered in bandages made a difference, like night and day from the last time she had seen him.

She noted that Din was dressed in a soft grey robe, as well as bundled in multiple blankets. Something about seeing him in comfort, such a stark contrast to how she'd found him in his cell, made her breathe easier.

Med had also trimmed Din's beard to clean some wounds on his face. The bruises stood out more clearly, but even with the purplish color, Din still looked better. It allowed her to see more of his face, though most of it was still covered in bruises and cuts, some of which had been stitched.

Med had even cut Din's hair a bit, finding a few injuries on his head. It made Din look like a completely different man than the one she had seen in that cell, or even the one she had seen lying on the exam table the night before.

As she watched, Din shifted in his sleep. His face was pinched together as he moved his head from side to side, mumbling. She could see his hands gripped into fists under the blankets as they too moved fitfully. It lasted only a few seconds, then was over and he relaxed back into the soft bed and pillow.

A moment later Med came from fresher, drying his hands. His movements were weary as he nodded a greeting at Bo.

"Good morning, Lady Kryze."

"Good morning." Bo returned his nod, then looked back at the man on the bed.

"He looks better. How is he?" she asked.

"Stable for now. I did what I could do with our limited supplies onboard." Med chose not to tell Bo about the amount of times Din had given him a scare throughout the long night. There was no need to worry her more than she obviously was. He'd been able to remove the oxygen mask about an hour ago, which was an improvement.

Not for the first time, Bo wished they could take Din somewhere with full medical facilities. But Gideon was tracking them closely, making that impossible. They had heard from multiple contacts that Imps had come looking around some of the planets the Nite Owls often visited. Imp spies had been spotted on Nevarro as well. They couldn't risk it, they had to keep the fleet jumping in hyperspace, only stopping quickly to send smaller ships for fuel and supplies. They had gotten Din out and that was the most important thing for now.

"Has he woken up?" Bo asked.

"No, he's been unconscious. But sometimes I swear it's like he's fighting something or someone," Med couldn't help but to voice one of his concerns. "He's acting almost as if he's still there. I need him to relax and rest."

Bo heard a touch of frustration and worry in the medic's voice. She realized that the moment of distress she had seen from Din wasn't a one-off occurrence.

"He's abusing his body further," Med continued as he checked the monitors again. "This restless sleep isn't helping him at all."

"Is there anything we can do?" Bo asked, studying Din sadly as the injured man began his inner battle again. He looked better than he had the day before, but upon closer inspection she could see the signs of distress that Med described.

Med looked at the child slumbering in Bo's arms and it gave him an idea.

"May I?" he asked, holding his arms out for the boy. Bo nodded and carefully handed over the sleeping child.

Gently, the medic laid Grogu down next to Din's left side. He adjusted the injured man's arm to wrap around the little one. Then he took a step back, watching the pair carefully.

Almost like a switch, Din's mumblings and tossing quieted. His arm pulled the child in closer, his hand reaching unconsciously for his son's. Grogu turned his head into Din's chest, curling his body inward until he was tucked in, his face buried in the soft fabric of the robe. The little one put his head into Din's side, his ear flattening out as he sought the sound of his father's heartbeat. Once he found it, he settled as well.

Bo's eyes welled with unbidden and uninvited tears. The invisible and miraculous connection between Din and Grogu was something she had witnessed first when Grogu had managed to get a message to his father. But now it was here in front of her, undeniably evident, and she couldn't control the emotions it brough out in her. It was a love so pure, so beautiful, and she'd never seen anything like it.

She remembered when Din had been in terrible pain after the failed attempt to put on his helmet. She hadn't been sure if he would make it then, but she also remembered that the first thing he'd asked her was whether Grogu was okay. They had all wondered how he survived for as long as he had. Now, she was sure of the reason.

He had survived for his son. Plain and simple.

Bo turned to Med, unabashedly wiping away errant tears with the back of her hand.

"It's working. How did you know?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just took a chance that they could help each other. Din shouldn't be alive right now, it's nothing short of a miracle. I thought maybe the only reason he fought so hard and survived as long as he did was because…"

"…of his son," they finished together.

"You're right, I'm sure of it, too." Bo agreed.

Med nodded. "I'm glad I was right to put them together. I was worried Din wouldn't be able to get ahead of this. He's not out of the woods yet, but this is a good sign."

"Do you think he'll…?" Bo couldn't finish the question.

"It's up to him now. I've done all I can. There was much more damage than I could have imagined. I've never seen a patient with so many injuries at the same time. Not one still alive," he added.

Med checked the monitors again as he continued his update, relieved at the improvement he saw now that Din had Grogu by his side.

"I treated what I could, applying bacta to the worst of the wounds and leaving some to heal on their own. He's not currently critical but that could change. With the injuries he's had, simply moving him was going to cause problems. And…"

"And he wasn't just moved," Bo finished for him. "He walked for a long distance, he fought, he was put through a marathon to get out of there," she ended in a whisper, her eyes never leaving Din's face.

Did we pull him out only to kill him anyway?

Med read her thoughts.

"Lady Kryze, may I speak frankly?"

"Of course. I prefer it."

"Good. Then, with all due respect…knock it off."

Bo's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Of all the things she expected the medic to say, that wasn't one of them.

"Lady Kryze, you did exactly what he would have wanted. No Mandalorian, no man, no being, wants to die at the hands of a captor, especially one like Moff Gideon. Even if he dies here, at least he does so with his people, in comfort, with his child." He gestured at the boy sleeping in Din's arms.

"I won't lie to you," Med continued. "All the movement yesterday, the march out of there, definitely exacerbated his condition."

Bo's face fell.

"But," he held up a hand. "That was going to happen no matter what you did."

Med continued before she could voice a protest.

"Did the activity of his rescue speed things up? Yes. Does that mean it wasn't going to happen, eventually? No. His body was already shutting down before you found him, and that was going to happen no matter where he was. Even if he was still laying in that cell, he would have gone into shock and crashed at some point. Except he would have been alone, and no one would have helped him."

Bo frowned at that grim reality.

"Din would have died a miserable, lonely death in that place. You brought him home, back to his people, back to his foundling. I don't think I have to tell you that any one of us would choose that over what he would have faced there," Med finished, trying, and failing to keep the emotion out of his voice.

While it didn't feel like the right time to ask, Bo hoped to learn more about Din and Med's history. She hadn't missed the emotion in his voice when he talked about nearly losing what was clearly a very good friend.

It didn't exactly make Bo feel better, to hear the medic talk so freely of Din's death. But he wasn't hiding the truth and she appreciated that. Din was home with his people, his worst injuries were taken care of, and he was more comfortable than he'd been in a very long time. It didn't make him magically better, but it was an improvement over the alternative.

"You're right, thank you," Bo said. She suddenly looked more closely at the medic, noting the tiredness in his posture. It wasn't obvious and would have been easily hidden from nearly anyone else. But she was used to keeping an eye on her troops and knowing when they needed a break.

"You should go rest now," she told the weary medic. "I can stay with them and call you if you're needed."

Med hesitated, looking at his patient and giving another check to the monitors. Finally, he decided he wouldn't be any use to Din if he continued to go without rest. Bowing his head gratefully, he took his leave with a quiet, "Thank you, my Lady."

After he left, Bo sat down on the second bed in the room. She studied Din and Grogu, happy to see that both seemed to be sleeping soundly. There was no sign of movement from Din, and she hoped that meant he could finally start the healing that his body so desperately needed.

Din Djarin still had a fight in front of him.