A/N: Hi folks! I know I said a few chapters back that I had completed the longest chapter I'd ever written, but this one has now beaten it. A lot needed to happen in this one and I didn't want to chop it up.
For any who would like a little musical inspiration while reading this chapter, I shall direct you to a song that She-Elf23 told me about. She and I have been passing musical inspiration back and forth via PMs as we each worked through challenging parts of our stories.
She found a song that she felt fit Din in this story, and I was absolutely shocked and amazed that someone would read one of my stories and hear a song that then reminded them of it.
The song is called: Call Me Fighter by Matt Beilis
When I heard it, I wholeheartedly agreed with her assessment, and I will admit that I listened to it a LOT while working on finishing this chapter. It could easily be seen as Din's theme song for this entire story. The lyrics are so perfect it was almost as if the song was written for it, or that I had written this story for the song – even though I'd never heard it before.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Din Djarin was in the middle of another nightmare. The Mandalorian tossed and turned in his sleep, mumbling loud enough to wake the ex-shock trooper sleeping in the next bunk.
Cara hadn't had to do it in a while, but when Din got more violent, she decided to wake him up. She was careful, much as she had been that first night and Din woke fairly easily. Grogu had also woken from all the commotion and immediately asked to be picked up, so Din pulled him into his arms and the boy settled at his side.
Once Din was awake and relaxed holding onto his kid, Cara asked if he wanted to talk about the nightmare. Just as she'd done the first night and nearly every night thereafter when she'd first arrived on the cruiser.
But this time, Din refused. When she asked, he didn't reply, shaking his head in silent refusal.
Knowing that it had helped him before, Cara pushed again gently.
"Come on, Din. Just talk to me. We've been through this before. You know it's better when you talk about it."
"No! I won't talk! I won't say anything!" Din snapped with force, raising his voice more than usual for the quiet Mandalorian.
Grogu cowered and cried, jumping out of Din's arms and onto Cara. She was shocked as she held the trembling child. She hadn't expected another outburst so soon after the last one, though she realized that she should have assumed these could now happen any time or any place.
Cara needed to be more cautious with Din, that was becoming obvious.
Din looked up in horror when he realized what he had done. Seeing Grogu shaking in Cara's arms broke his heart.
"Hey buddy, I'm sorry. Come here, it's okay."
Hearing no more anger in his father's voice, Grogu put his arms out to be picked up again, whimpering. Din hugged him to his side and soon the little one quieted down.
Cara sat and waited to see what Din needed from her. Just as they suspected, more and more pieces of the puzzle were falling into place for Din. But it seemed like every piece was going to come with its own set of challenges.
"Din?"
He looked at her, rocking Grogu slightly in his arms.
"I'm going to head to the fresher." Something told her he and the kid needed a few minutes alone.
He nodded.
Cara took her time, even going so far as to brush her teeth again and re-braid her hair.
When she came out, she found Grogu asleep in his cot and Din sitting at the end of his bed. She sat down across from him. They were both as far away as they could get from the sleeping child.
She had a feeling Din wanted to talk, but she was going to let him decide when that would happen. She would wait as long as he needed.
Minutes went by, still Cara waited.
"I was dreaming I was there."
The quiet words cut through the silence, surprising the ex-shock trooper, though she stayed still.
"I was back there, and they were…" he eyed the little one asleep in the cot and adjusted what he was going to say. "…doing things."
Things. He means the torture, Cara thought with a sickening jolt.
"I still don't remember all of it, but I remember that Gideon was always trying to get a reaction from me. That was the point of asking me to yield, to get me to talk."
"What did he want to know?"
"Nothing. At first, he said he didn't need me to talk, that I didn't have anything he wanted to know. But it wasn't just about that. He was constantly trying to goad a reaction out of me, but I didn't respond to any of it, not the comments, the insults, the threats, the torture."
Cara processed that information, and the fact that it seemed like it was getting easier for him to say that word. Torture. Somehow, she felt that might be a good thing.
"So, you're saying you didn't talk at all, for nearly three months?"
He shrugged. "Being forced to talk, but not talking… I don't know why, but I felt like that helped me to survive somehow. Something told me that if I talked, I'd be dead. I don't know how to explain it. It felt like if Gideon got that out of me, I wouldn't have had the strength to hang on as long as I did. Even though not talking prolonged… the pain."
"Kriff Din, I knew you were a quiet guy but, wow."
Cara almost couldn't believe her ears. Din was taciturn by nature, but she hadn't realized how much control he had. If she'd been in his boots, she doubted she could have done the same thing. At the very least, she would have been cursing out the Moff, even if she never gave him any information. But complete silence? That was something else.
"It's not like I didn't use my voice, though," he said quietly.
Cara looked up.
"But I didn't count the screaming."
He said it more quietly than before. Cara barely heard him in the silence of the room. What it must have taken for him to admit that, she couldn't fathom.
Cara didn't know what to say when he looked up at her. But she didn't think he needed words right then. Maybe receiving silence would serve him just as well as delivering it had. So, she said nothing, just nodded in understanding.
"Anyway," he continued after a little bit. "When you said 'talk', for some reason that all came back. Even though he never actually demanded I talk. Except when he started asking me to yield. Then he kept asking for that, just that word, and he'd do it. Give me a warrior's death."
"Bastard." Cara whispered, unable to stop herself.
Din nodded.
More silence.
"I was tempted."
Cara swallowed hard to hold back the gasp that nearly escaped at the quiet admission. It wasn't that it was a huge shock. If she'd been in his place, she could see how it might get that far. That the pain would be so bad that you'd wish for death just so it would be over. She just hated knowing how close they had come to losing him.
"But you didn't," she finally said.
"No. I wanted to. For one moment I was ready to say the word and let it end, but I didn't."
"We're all glad you did, especially him," she nodded to the slumbering child in the cot.
"Me, too."
Cara inhaled, the sound coming out a little louder than she intended.
"Sorry," Din said. "Maybe that was too much information."
"No, it's not. I want you to tell me whatever you want to say."
"Not much more to tell," he shrugged. "That's about all I remember."
"Okay. Well, it's another piece of the puzzle. It's probably good that you're starting to remember."
"Yeah…but…"
"What?"
"I scared him," Din said in a sad whisper, looking over at Grogu in his cot. Unable to stand being away from him any longer, Din gently picked up the child and held him.
"I can't believe I scared him like that. He actually jumped away from me."
"He's young. He was surprised. Young ones get frighted easily. He went right back to you."
"But the way he looked at me. He's never looked at me that way before. Not even the first time I saw him. When I was just another monster in a helmet who was going to take him away to who knows where, to people who were going to do who knows what to him. Not even then. He was just… curious."
"He knew," Cara said quietly.
"What?"
"Do you think that little being, with all the power he has, wasn't able to look right into your soul the first time he laid eyes on you and know exactly who you were? That he didn't see the kindness, honor, selflessness hidden behind all that armor? Even as you were trying to hide it with that tough exterior you create when you're in full-on bounty hunter mode?"
Cara snorted and shook her head. "You don't give the kid enough credit."
"Don't forget," she continued. "I met you not long after you found him, and I could see he was already attached to you. Bonded. I'm betting he made his decision right then who he wanted to be with, and if you hadn't told him to go with that Jedi, he never would have. He only did that for you, you know. As soon as someone actually asked him what he wanted, what's the first thing he did? Came right back to you."
"Now maybe you startled him into reacting, but that doesn't mean he doesn't trust you. That's just instinct. Hell, you made me jump too. Haven't you ever jumped when someone scared the crap out of you? It's a gut reaction, Din. Stop defining your entire relationship with that one moment and look at him now. Does that seem like a kid who doesn't trust you?"
She nodded at Grogu and Din looked down at the child.
Grogu had settled into the crook of Din's left arm. His favorite spot. The place he could be found most often when he wasn't in his own cot. Ears drooping and mouth lax, he had fallen into a deep slumber against Din's heart, lulled to sleep listening to the sound of Din's voice through his chest.
Din frowned but didn't reply. There was nothing he could say. Cara was right.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
A couple of days later, Med approved Din to go back to training again, pronouncing his bruised ribs healed.
Cara brought him back to the old surgery, Grogu following behind in the IG-12.
"What do you say, Mando? Ready to get back to work?"
Din set his jacket aside, nodding. "I couldn't be more ready."
"Alright, let's do this."
Cara felt some hesitation in Din's movements and, following his lead, she kept the sparring light and simple. Just enough to get his body moving and to feel like he was doing something useful.
After a little while, Din got more into it, pushing harder. She'd expected it, but it still made Cara frown. But as he hadn't hurt himself and was still holding up well, she let him keep going.
Din pushed himself harder the longer they kept at it. He wanted to feel his body stretched to its limit. He needed that familiar feeling of being at the edge of what he could handle before backing off. He had no intention of hurting himself again, but he did want to push just a bit farther and get his body back to its usual routine.
As they continued to spar, Din felt himself getting out of breath. That wasn't unusual though, so he kept pushing. But soon the Mandalorian found that he was panting harder than he should have been by that amount of activity, which caused him to worry that something might be wrong. The worry made him breathe harder, which caused more worry, which began a vicious circle and soon he felt like he couldn't catch his breath.
Feeling that his lungs were too heavy when he was laying on the ground, Din got up out of the last hold and walked over to the wall.
Cara frowned when she saw the familiar stance. Din was leaning against the wall, one hand on his chest, struggling to breathe.
Dank Farrik.
"Hang on, buddy. I'm getting Med." Cara saw no need to delay and immediately ran down the passageway to get the medic.
Med helped Din get to the exam room and checked him, as he had the last time.
Just as before, Din felt his heart and lungs slowly begin to cooperate as he lay on the table breathing in the oxygen. This time Med had used a canula, not seeing that Din needed as much help as the previous time.
After several minutes, Med pulled the scanner away and took the canula out of Din's nose.
"There's nothing wrong with your heart and lungs, Djar," Med confirmed after checking his readings.
"Then what happened?" Din asked, sitting up on the table.
Med sighed. He isn't going to like this.
"I think you're having… panic attacks."
Din was stunned.
"Panic attacks? Are you serious?"
"Okay, maybe that's not the best way to put it. You can call it a fight or flight response if you want, but it's essentially the same. Your body is responding strongly to fear, caused by something in the environment."
Din didn't reply, he just stood up and walked to the cruiser's window, looking at the stars.
Cara and Med shared a look. She communicated a desire to go to Din, but Med shook his head. Cara nodded in acquiescence. If Med felt like he had a handle on this, she wasn't going to interfere. She kept Grogu in her arms and they both waited to see how the man who was like Din's brother would help him get through this latest hurdle in his recovery.
"Din? You alright?" The medic asked after leaving the other man alone for a minute or so, wanting to see what he would do.
"I'm great. I'm just great."
The Mandalorian's voice was frustrated, and Med frowned to hear it.
"Din." Med said sympathetically, not sure what else to say.
Din ignored Med, still staring at the stars. His nerves were past the point of being raw. They were on fire, and he was angry, angrier than he'd been in a while. Even angrier than when he'd been a prisoner, or when Gideon had taken his helmet. Except this wasn't just a quick moment of fury that was dissipating. This was seething and growing as the moments passed.
Din's heart had been racing earlier from fear, now it was pounding in barely contained rage. Though luckily not completely out of control, like he'd been after the sparring bout with Cara when he'd forgotten where he was.
No, Din was fully aware of where he was and what was happening, it was just that it was making him really kriffing mad.
With the lack of sufficient food and rest, Din was reacting to this latest bit of news in a way that was out of character for the usually stoic and soft-spoken Mandalorian.
Finally, Din turned away from the window, frowning fiercely at the medic.
"So, let me get this straight. Let me make sure I've got this right."
Din started ticking things off on his fingers.
"I can't eat more than a few bites of mostly liquid food without puking my guts out."
"I can't sleep more than a couple hours at a time without waking up in a cold sweat and eventually go back to sleep, only to do the same thing a few times a night."
"Then there's the fact that I keep having moments where I basically lose my mind and forget where I am, putting people that I care about in danger."
"And now we're going to add panic attacks to the list?"
"Din." Med said again, understanding his brother's frustration but wanting to keep him calm.
Din wasn't the type to panic. It just wasn't something that he did. It was one of the reasons he was a great hunter, a fantastic marksman. Some may be a better shot, but Din was always the steady shot. He didn't get ruffled when others did. It was another weapon in his arsenal and had caused many of his prey to become unnerved, allowing him to go in for the capture or the kill.
The Mandalorian's recent experience had obviously brought feelings of uncontrollable fear and panic out of him, but Med knew that didn't make the warrior happy.
Part of all this was caused by the lack of sleep and insufficient nutrition. Din's body was shaking, not just from fear or even anger, but from running on not nearly enough food or rest.
"Din." Med kept saying his brother's name, trying to convey calmness and understanding to him, to let him know that he understood. The medic didn't feel like Din wanted to hear some long, drawn-out explanation or any words of sympathy. So, he didn't say anything else yet.
"No, wait. I want to make sure I've got it all," Din continued, his voice strained. "It's quite a list, after all. And let's not forget that all of this is making it harder and harder for me to actually heal enough to try and regain my strength so I can go back to my normal life and maybe, just maybe, be able to help my people take back their own planet."
"I'm sorry, brother."
It was subtle, because that's just who Din was, but Med could still see that the other man was flipping out. Reaching a breaking point. It was hard to watch, just as watching the end of his fever had been, as previous injury recoveries had been - when Din had to fight through agony without the help of drugs as his body rejected one kind or another – before finally breaking through to suddenly be better. Not fully well, but numerous steps ahead of where he'd been before.
Though as Med watched the man who was like his brother, he knew that anyone else in Din's boots would probably be screaming insanely or sitting in a catatonic state after all he'd been through in the past few months. The fact that Din was only getting angry was probably the sanest version of how he could have accepted this new impediment to his recovery.
Med was honestly surprised it had taken Din this long to have a breakdown. The medic was sure he would have lost it weeks ago if he'd been in Din's place. He probably would've tried to launch himself out of a blast door so, all things considered, Din was handling everything pretty well.
Med wondered if, like a fever, Din was showing signs of cracking because he was close to breaking through whatever walls he had built up. They'd been put there to protect him during his imprisonment and then during his physical recovery, but now they were just barriers to his mental recovery.
Din was methodical and could think his way out of nearly any situation. Sometimes it was his body that was the rebel. It liked to push to the limits. It didn't just march easily from one part of a gradient to the next. When Din had trained in the fighting corps, he'd often had to push hard to break through to another level. Getting stuck at one challenge until suddenly he busted through and was nailing the next one. Others moved subtly from challenge to challenge. Din sometimes did it in chunks.
Med hoped this was it. That this was the final chunk before they got through to the other side of all of this. He didn't think his brother had much more left in him if this was just a step on the way and yet another issue was coming.
Then again, Din had already proven how strong he was so Med swore never to underestimate him. But even if Med could feel confident Din could handle any new challenges that might come up next, it didn't mean he wanted to see it happen.
Din started pacing and Med was worried to see the man's respiration rising unnaturally.
"You're okay, Djar," the medic said in a soothing voice. "But you have to breathe or you're going to hyperventilate again."
"Right. Right."
Din was chuckling nervously, his hands visibly shaking as he ran them through his hair.
"Because now I need to worry about that. I didn't have enough to worry about, let's add not being able to breathe because I'm feeling upset or nervous. Except my whole life right now is one big reason to be upset or nervous. So basically, I could stop breathing at any moment. Do I have that right?"
Med frowned. Din was unraveling and it was getting worse, despite his attempts to calm the other man down.
If Med had any sedatives, he would have been tempted to drug Din, side-effects be damned. Dealing with those would be better than Din causing damage to his still-recovering body.
"Come on, brother. How about we sit down?" Med walked in front of Din, holding his arm out and trying to guide him to the bed.
Cara continued to stay quietly out of the way, holding onto Grogu and offering what assurance she could while the poor kid watched his father losing it. She didn't think taking Grogu away would make it any better, so she just waited.
Cara had been tempted to step in at first, but she saw now that it needed to be Med who talked Din down. He'd obviously helped Din through similar situations, if not this pronounced or serious.
Din kept mumbling as his shaking got worse and his breathing became hitched. Med again inwardly cursed his lack of any supplies that could help.
Then the medic remembered something he did have.
"Cara, can you go to the next exam room and get the large bottle out of the supply cabinet?"
She looked like she was going to ask for more details.
"Trust me, you'll know it when you see it."
Cara put Grogu down on the nearby bed, then came back less than a minute later, carrying a bottle and looking puzzled.
"So, drugs are a no-go, but booze is okay?"
"I'm not saying this is my typical recommendation as a medic, but our options are pretty limited right now. We need to get him calmed down and this is the best idea I've got. Someone found that in a closet somewhere and thought it should be saved for medicinal purposes. This seems like a pretty good reason to open it."
"Okay. Yeah, you're right. Sorry."
"It's okay, just get one of those cups and pour it about one-quarter. Good thing for us, Djar is a lightweight."
"Don't I know it. I can drink him under the table any day of the week."
Cara poured the liquid and handed the cup to Med. The medic finally got Din to stop his pacing, though he was still breathing hard.
"Djar, I need you to drink this. It's going to help, okay?"
Din was feeling panicked again and at that moment was grateful for anything that might make those feelings go away. He smelled the liquor as he brought the cup to his lips, but he didn't care. If Med said he should drink it, he was going to do it.
Din drank down the liquid in one gulp, gasping at the strong taste and the burn that went down his throat.
"Okay, now I think we should go for a walk. Work off some of that nervous energy. Maybe look around a little bit and get you out of your head. Sound good?"
Din nodded and Med led him out of the room and into the passageway.
Cara stayed behind with Grogu. The boy had cooed worriedly throughout his father's episode but seemed to sense that the medic needed to handle it on his own. When the two Mandalorians walked out of the room, the child looked at Cara with drooping ears.
"I know, buddy, that wasn't easy to watch. Your dad still has some battles to fight, but he'll get through it. Don't forget, he's a Mandalorian and they are tough. And your dad, well, he's probably the toughest I've ever seen. Don't ever tell him I told you that though, or he'll never let me live it down, okay?"
Grogu nodded, his ears turning up slightly at her joking tone.
"Come on, let's head to your room. I'm sure your dad is going to want to rest after they come back so we'll meet them there."
A while later, Med and Din returned to Din's room. Din was looking calmer, and Med had an arm on his elbow. He guided Din to his bed and sat him down.
Cara frowned at Din's dazed look, his eyes were unfocused as he walked beside Med and dropped to the bed, leaning unsteadily.
"Is he alright?" Cara asked. Grogu cooed from her lap, obviously wondering the same thing.
"Yeah, I think this is the alcohol talking now."
"Right. I almost forgot about that."
"Luckily, he's a quiet drunk. Not that he ever gets drunk. I just mean that liquor makes him sleepy, which is why I thought of it."
Med pushed lightly on Din's shoulders to guide him down on the bed.
"Come on, Djar, just lay down. You can sleep now."
Din nodded, then laid down slowly, his eyes already closing as his head hit the pillow.
Med pulled off his boots and tossed the blanket over him.
He sighed as he straightened up.
"Will he be alright?" Cara asked.
"From that? Sure. There shouldn't be any permanent damage. But I can't predict what will happen if he gets into that state again, or a worse one."
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Med ordered Din to rest the following day, wanting to monitor his vitals just in case. But when Din still showed no signs of any permanent damage, the medic allowed him to go back to training the day after. As much as he wanted to, there was no reason to hold Din back if there wasn't a medical issue to make him do so.
Still, the medic was on high alert. Med wasn't sure why, but he had a bad feeling that Din might be about to go through something worse than what they'd already seen. So, he stayed close and didn't take any other patients. There were a few needing follow-ups after treatment for previous training injuries, but he moved them all to a different day.
Just in case, he thought to himself as he kept busy in the exam room. He was tempted to go watch Din and Cara, but he didn't want Din to feel any pressure, so he left them alone.
Cara was feeling just as much on edge as Med, though she was doing her best to not let it show. There was no need to get Din riled up if he felt well enough to keep training.
Din didn't necessarily feel well or healed, but it wasn't about that. He needed to keep pushing forward. Sitting in a bed, staring at a wall, that wasn't going to do anything for him. As each challenge came up, they found a way to make a little progress.
The recovering Mandalorian figured that these panic attacks (boy, did he hate even acknowledging them in his mind with that name) would be resolved the same way. Keep moving forward, find out the root cause at some point and then they would ease. Din refused to believe that they were going to be a part of the rest of his life, simply because he couldn't. It was not possible to continue his life with them. He wouldn't be able to hunt or do any other kind of work suited to him. He wouldn't be able to properly care for his foundling. So, he had to believe that they were temporary. Much as his physical injuries were. Something to heal and move on from, to get back to being who he was.
Din and Cara faced off, hands up in a fighting stance. He knew his friend was worried about him, so he made the first move, sweeping her leg out and dropping her before she had a chance to think about it.
After that, they got into their usual rhythm. Perhaps a little slower and not as intense as their typical routine would have been before his injuries, but a new rhythm they'd developed over the past weeks.
Cara stepped behind Din and got him into a light choke hold.
Din pulled his arm up to counter it.
Grappling line around the neck. Can't breathe. Black spots. Losing consciousness.
Din frowned, shaking his head slightly at the image that came unbidden to his mind. He completed the defensive move and stepped out of Cara's grasp.
Cara missed his frown, being behind him, so she kept going. When Din stepped out of her hold, she gave him a touch of his own medicine, lightly sweeping his leg out from under him.
Din felt her leg contact the shin that had been sore when he'd arrived on the cruiser, and he fell to the floor.
Droid. Squeezing. Gideon's face. "Remember, things will only continue to get worse from here." SNAP!
Din wasn't able to hide the gasp that hit him when another image appeared in his mind.
"Mando? You alright?" Cara held out her hand and Din took it, hopping back to his feet.
"Yep, I'm good."
He put his hands back up and seemed fine. Cara shrugged and they kept going.
Din got Cara to the ground, straddling her waist. She used her weight to toss him off, pushing his knee to flip him onto his back, then holding him down by his arms.
Metal straps. Electricity. Pulse, pulse, rest. Pulse, pulse, rest. Screaming.
Din closed his eyes to block the image. He wasn't sure if these visions were real or some sort of strange new version of hell his body and mind had decided to put him through, like the panic attacks. So, he pushed down the images and his reaction, not letting Cara see.
Next, Cara gripped his upper arms, ready to toss him again. He swept his hands up and got out of the move, but not before another image hit.
"This is very nice. I may have to adopt some sort of signet myself. I love the way you Mandalorians design your armor. Such beautiful craftmanship." Burning. Awful burning.
Din closed his eyes, growling as he pulled Cara down again. She swiftly got the upper hand, pinning him down by laying across his stomach.
Starving. Aching pain. Emptiness. How long does it take to die from lack of food?
Still hiding his reactions from Cara, Din kept going. He was determined to knock whatever these thoughts and images were out of his head. They couldn't be memories. He didn't feel like he was remembering them. They were just flitting in and out of his consciousness like some sort of strange imaginary bird.
Cara and Din ended up on the floor again another minute later. They grappled, each trying to get the upper hand. At one point, Cara's arms ended up over Din's eyes as she struggled to get them in a better position, and he fought against it. They were like that for several seconds, Cara's arms blocking Din's vision.
Darkness. Trying not to scream. Alone. What if I'm trapped here until I die of thirst and starvation?
Din ignored it, pushing harder on Cara's arms to get them over his head and off, but she fought just as hard to push them back down to get them around his shoulders to pin him again. Din regained his sight temporarily, only to have it taken away as her arms ended up in front of his eyes again.
Flaming red hot metal. Armor being taken apart. Piece by piece. Burning over and over.
Din struggled to get her arm away, to see again. His heart began pounding harder.
"How DARE you! I have given you every chance to yield. I have offered you the honor of a warrior's death and still you defy me?"
Din's breath started coming faster.
Immense pain. Eyes burning. Agony deep into his skull. Screaming. Darkness. Unrelenting Darkness. Why won't the Darkness go away?
Din gasped and attempted to suck in a full breath, but he felt like his lungs wouldn't expand.
Cara pulled back at the noise, sitting up quickly.
"Din? What's happening? You alright?"
Din's breath kept coming faster as more and more images flew at him. He could no longer deny that these were memories. Horrible, terrifying, painful memories.
"Cara...I…I don't think….I can't…" Din panted. Cara saw fear in his eyes like she'd never seen before, and it shook her to the core.
"Hang on, buddy."
Cara went to bolt out of the room but paused to point a warning finger at Grogu.
"Kid, don't move! I don't want him to hurt you in case this ends up like that other time. More importantly he doesn't want to hurt you. Got it?"
Grogu nodded and Cara resumed her sprint out the door to get Med.
"Med!" She yelled down the passageway, hoping the medic wasn't on another floor treating patients.
Before Cara could open her mouth to yell for the medic again, he was barreling toward her. She stopped to let him catch up, planning to tell him what was happening, but Med just kept on running. Cara took off after him, surprised at how quickly the medic could run.
Cara was a few strides behind, and when she got into the room, Med was already on his knees next to Din.
"Djar? Can you hear me?"
Barely a minute had passed since Cara had left the room, but Din looked much worse. He was hyperventilating, unable to draw a deep breath.
Med knew Din needed oxygen, but it would take time to get him down to the exam room, even with two of them to carry him.
Then he remembered he was in a surgical suite. Med jumped to his feet and began searching the walls, reading what was written on the different panels.
"Thank the Maker," he breathed a sigh of relief when he found what he needed. He reached into the wall and started to pull out equipment.
Med turned his head, ready to ask Cara to help him carry Din over but the soldier had already hauled Din up under his shoulders and was dragging him over.
The medic looked up in surprise as she gently deposited Din at his feet. She shrugged. "I've carried him in full armor before, this is nothing."
Med could only nod, falling back to his knees next to the still struggling man. Din's breaths were getting more strained, but also weaker. He was losing the battle to pull in enough oxygen.
Din was only partially aware of what was going on around him. He had barely registered Cara picking him up and dragging him across the floor. The Mandalorian's entire world had become a fight to get enough air to stay alive as seemingly every moment of those awful 87 days played out in agonizing detail.
Whatever walls Din had put up to keep the memories at bay, to protect himself while he healed, had been obliterated as if he'd hit them with multiple charges from his ammo belt. They hadn't just fallen, they had crumbled into dust, leaving him powerless to stop the images from flooding at him. His ears buzzed and rang, even as he heard the various sounds that came with the memories, Gideon's taunts, the sound of electricity, multiple blows, and hits, even his own screams. He felt a ghost of the pain from all the injuries he endured, he could even smell his own burning flesh. It was as though he was being dropped into that world again without his permission.
All the pain and terror from his time as a prisoner was no longer something unknowable, something that just visited him in his dreams and robbed him – and those around him – of sleep. Now he remembered everything, except those moments when he'd been asleep or unconscious.
It was like when he arrived on the cruiser and his nerves had been taut, when even Grogu's healing energy was too much. Except now it was his mind's turn to be overwhelmed.
Med pulled out the oxygen mask he'd found, reaching inside the panel to adjust the flow before putting it on Din's face.
"Djar? I know it's hard, but just try to breathe. That's all you have to do, okay?"
Din looked up at Med, blinking at him but unable to say anything as he fought his rebellious lungs.
Med held the mask over Din, wishing again for any kind of sedative. Din's breaths were getting more and more strained, each one ending in a wheezing sound that stabbed Med straight through the heart.
Grogu whimpered and Cara looked back at the child.
"Hang on, kid. We'll get him through this."
Cara and Med shared a look, each wondering if they should let the kid help. But Din had been adamant. Grogu was only allowed to use his powers if it was life and death. This was bad but Din wasn't dying.
Not yet.
Running steps were heard and Bo came flying into the room.
"What happened?"
"How did you…?" Cara asked, stuttering at the sudden appearance of the Princess.
"I don't know. I just…," Bo shook her head, not sure how to explain that Imagine Din had returned, appearing before her on the bridge. In an instant she'd been absolutely certain that something awful was happening to Din, with no idea how or why she knew it.
Grogu whimpered and Bo turned to him. The child was reaching for her, reminding her of all those times he had reached for her when Din had been captured. She pulled him from the IG-12.
"It's okay, buddy. He'll be okay," she soothed. She felt him tremble, but he seemed to settle as she held him.
Everyone's attention turned back to Din as he continued to struggle.
Din felt like his lungs were going to burst. He was losing the battle, his energy waning as the war with his lungs continued. Black spots edged into his vision, and he looked at Med helplessly as he felt the blackness pulling him down.
"Din, don't." Med begged, seeing his brother weakening. "Don't you dare," he whispered.
Din couldn't even argue to say that he was trying. All he could do was look at Med in terror as darkness encroached on his vision. He couldn't get oxygen and he was blacking out, there was no stopping it. Finally, the dark spots took over his vision and the blackness carried him away.
When the Mandalorian's body went limp, Cara and Bo gasped, Grogu whimpered and Med cursed.
"Dank Farrik! Djar!" Med yelled.
This can't be happening, Cara thought. He was fine just a few minutes ago.
"Med?" Bo said in a small voice.
Med didn't answer, he was looking around the room, reading panels again, hoping to find a defibrillator, certain that Din's heart must have stopped after his struggles to breathe. That he was going to need to bring the other man back from the brink of death.
"Med." Bo said again, and Med's helmeted head tipped up at her.
"Look," she pointed at Din's chest while clutching Grogu in her other arm.
Cara and Med's eyes followed her gesture.
"I don't believe it," Med said in a hushed voice.
"Is he… breathing?" Cara asked.
Med pulled out his scanner. The medic assumed Din had stopped breathing and his heart had stopped beating. That's what happened after a person struggled to breathe the way Din had been doing for as long as he had. The very last thing Med expected to see was Din breathing normally.
"His heart rate is returning to normal. Oxygen levels are coming up," Med said in shock, dropping down onto the floor next to his brother.
"What the actual kriff just happened?" Cara asked, dropping to the floor as well.
"I'm not sure," Med said, shaking his head. "The only thing I can think is that he just experienced the worst version of a panic attack that I've not only ever seen, but ever heard of in my career."
"What does that mean, Med?" Bo also lowered herself to the floor, still holding onto Grogu. All of them were now sitting in a ring around Din's prone form.
"It means that as soon as he passed out, his body stopped panicking and he just… started breathing again."
"The only reason he couldn't breathe is because he was… scared?" Bo was incredulous.
"That's putting much too light a spin on it. He was absolutely terrified," Med clarified.
"By what?" Cara shook her head at the idea that simple fear could cause what they had just witnessed.
"I don't know."
"What does this mean now? Will he be okay when he wakes up?" Bo asked.
"I don't know," Med repeated. "But I think he might."
He looked up at the women staring at him.
"Bo, you remember the fever? Cara, you remember what I told you about the fevers?"
Both of them nodded.
"Djar does this sometimes. He doesn't always heal slowly and gradually. Most of the time he does, but sometimes he gets stuck and then he just… busts through to the other side. It looks scary but when he gets to the other side, he's better."
"And you think this was one of those times?" Cara asked.
"I really hope so. Because I honestly don't know how much more he can take if this wasn't it."
They watched Din breathing for a little while, happy just to see him doing the simple act of pulling in oxygen.
"Come on," Med said, getting up. "Cara help me get him onto that table, then we can take him to the other exam room."
Bo went to volunteer to help, but Grogu whimpered and held onto her tighter, not wanting to be put down.
"Okay, buddy, it's alright."
Suddenly Bo looked down at Grogu, frowning as something clicked into place.
"It was you, wasn't it?"
Grogu looked up at her, whining.
"You made Imagine Din come and get me, didn't you? You were the one who always brought him to me, weren't you?"
Grogu just looked at her, but she knew she was right. He seemed worried, not about Din now, but about Bo's reaction to what had happened.
"It's okay, little one. I'm not mad. I'm glad you called me," she hugged him, walking down the passageway following after the others. She decided to keep this information to herself for the moment. The most important thing right then was Din's health. Everything else could wait.
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When they got Din to the exam room, they moved him onto the table and Med did a thorough examination of the unconscious man.
After a few minutes, he stepped away, shaking his head.
"He's fine. Everything is back to normal," he reassured Din's friends.
"I think he just needs to rest. I want to get him to his own bed. That will be more comfortable than sleeping in here."
They got Din transferred to his room and into his own bed. Grogu squeaked, reaching to be put down next to his father.
Med turned to the boy in Bo's arms.
"You can stay with him for a little bit, but I made a promise, and you did, too. No using your powers unless it's life or death. I know that looked really scary, but your dad is fine."
"See? Look," the medic pointed to Din's chest. "He's breathing. He's sleeping now and we all know he needs his sleep, right?"
Grogu warbled worriedly but he nodded.
"Okay, so listen to Uncle Med. Your dad just needs to rest, okay? We're going to watch him and let him sleep."
Bo put Grogu down temporarily so he could be near Din and see for himself that his father was alright.
"Is he really okay?" Cara asked.
"He's fine, I swear. He's sleeping now. It's a deep sleep, but it is sleep." Med kept his voice low.
As if to prove the point, Din shifted on the bed, rolling to his side and sighing. A moment later a soft snore was heard.
Med tipped his head sideways and they took the hint. Bo picked up Grogu from his father's side.
"It's okay, kid. Let's let him sleep, okay?"
The little one looked at his dad, then nodded, holding onto Bo's arms.
Bo took Grogu with her to the bridge for a little while, Cara came along to visit for a bit before eventually taking Grogu to the galley to eat.
Throughout the day, Cara checked back on Din. She knew Med was doing the same thing, but she just needed to see him for herself. Bo would have done the same if she hadn't been stuck in other duties, so Cara provided periodic updates to let her know Din was still fine.
Every time Cara looked in on the slumbering Mandalorian, he was in a different position, moving comfortably but not restlessly.
Med came in once when she was watching Din and Cara shrugged.
"I just can't seem to help checking on him," she said quietly.
Med nodded. "I know, I've been in here at least once since the last time you were here."
They walked back into the passageway.
"Where's Grogu?" Med asked, noticing the child wasn't with her.
"On the bridge with Bo. He seemed happier there since he can't be with Din. Poor kid."
"Yeah, they both deserve a break after all this."
"They really do. A vacation would not be out of the question."
Med chuckled. "Din on vacation? I'd pay to see that."
Cara huffed in amusement. "Okay maybe not a vacation, but at least a little quiet time. Maybe find a spot with a pond where Grogu can play, and Din could just rest for a while. After everything is over and you guys get Mandalore back."
"That would definitely do them a lot of good. We'll see if we can actually talk Din into it."
"Yeah, easier said than done."
"So, he's asleep? Not unconscious or sick or weak? Just asleep?" Cara kept having a hard time believing it.
"Just asleep," Med assured with a nod. "Deep REM sleep, but no nightmares that I can detect. Have you seen any sign?"
"Nope, he's not sleeping anything like he has been since I got here. Before all this, I'd been around him and Grogu on missions and the kid always passed out, but Din was usually on alert, even while sleeping. Like you knew that if you sneezed wrong, you'd wake up with a blaster aimed at you. In fact, I think that actually happened once. It was the last time I sneezed around him for a long time."
Med almost laughed out loud but held back remembering the sleeping man nearby.
"He wasn't always like that, you know," Med said thoughtfully, his head turning back to look toward Din's room as they walked away from his open door to ensure they didn't wake him with their conversation.
"No?"
"No, when we were kids, he always slept hard. Though he still woke up before me, no matter who fell asleep first. Din's always been an early riser."
"Still is," Cara said, rolling her eyes. "When we're on missions, he's usually up before dawn, no matter what planet we end up on. It's almost freaky, the internal clock he has."
"Yeah, it is."
Cara left the floor to get something for the mid-day meal. She ate on the bridge with Bo and Grogu, giving another update to the Mandalorian leader.
"And he's still asleep?" Bo asked again later in the day when Cara brought Grogu for another visit to the bridge.
"Yep. All day."
"Well, he obviously needs it. I hope he feels better, like Med said he should."
"I think Med was right. He hit something or maybe more accurately crashed through something."
"I'll be interested to see how he feels when he wakes up."
"Me, too."
When it came time for the evening meal on the cruiser, Cara brought Grogu back to see Din.
The Mandalorian was still passed out, but still not in an unconsciousness such as that caused by an injury. He was deeply asleep, resting completely and utterly. No affectations or pretenses needed. He wasn't carrying himself in a warrior's stance or holding a rigidity to keep an enemy anxious about his next move.
Cara watched him for a while, Grogu sitting on her lap as they finished their evening meal. They'd brought some food for Din in case he woke up, but he continued to sleep.
After he finished his dinner, Grogu whined softly, pointing to Din and Cara put him next to the sleeping man. The boy immediately crawled to Din's side and took a nap. Cara smiled as she watched them sleep.
Din was breathing slowly and steadily, lying on his side with his knees pulled up slightly. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, holding lightly to his son even in slumber.
Grogu only slept with him like that for a little while and Cara took him back to the bridge to see Bo one more time before they all turned in for the night. Well, all except Din - who had been turned in for the night since that morning.
Eventually night came to the ship's schedule, and Din was still out cold.
Cara got herself and Grogu ready for bed. She put the boy in his cot and got into her own bed.
Cara laid down and closed her eyes but didn't fully sleep. She stayed on alert like she would if she were going to be on watch throughout the night. In a light sleep so that she would wake up when Din did.
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In the middle of the night, the Mandalorian finally woke from his deep sleep.
Din was on his stomach, pillow crushed in his arms under his head. His eyes slowly opened, and he found himself looking into the fresher with the low light flowing into the room.
He slowly rolled over, yawning, blinking, and rubbing his eyes. He lay on his back with his arms behind his head studying the ceiling, trying to remember the last thing that happened.
Then it all came back to him. He remembered the sparring match, the terrible images, the fear, being unable to breathe, and finally blacking out.
Oddly, none of it brought any fear now. It was just a memory, something he could look at like any other memory. Maybe not easily, but it didn't bring the same terror that it did earlier. As he thought about it, he likened it to the memories from his childhood of the day his parents died. Those were terrible images that weren't easy to look at, but it had been a long time since they'd brought terror, not since he was a boy.
The memories of his time as a prisoner were becoming more like those old childhood memories. Still there, still awful, but they weren't causing the physical reaction that they had been before. He could see them without feeling like he couldn't breathe, and it was a relief.
Din realized that he had slept the entire day. They had done that training session in the morning, and he must have passed out from the hyperventilation, then fallen asleep. Din noted the difference in his body. He knew what it felt like to wake up after an unconsciousness brought on by trauma. This didn't feel the same.
It felt… amazing.
I slept. I actually slept.
Din smiled to himself in the near-darkness of the room, sighing in relief at the change in his body from the simple act of sleeping. He turned his head and saw Grogu sleeping soundly in his cot, and the outline of Cara's back in the other bed.
He got up quietly and headed to the fresher. Once he was done and washing his hands, Din realized how thirsty he was. He walked silently out of the fresher and used the soft light to find the water pitcher and cups that Med always made sure were in the room. Din poured cup after cup and drank until he'd emptied the entire container of water.
Finally satisfied, Din got back into bed. He didn't feel ready to go back to sleep, so he sat up against the wall and pulled the blanket onto his lap with his legs stretched out and ankles crossed.
"Hey." A sleepy voice said quietly, and he looked over to find Cara smiling at him, visible in the dim light from the fresher.
"Hey," he said just as quietly. "Sorry if I woke you."
"You didn't. Not exactly. I've been on watch waiting for you to get up. You were asleep all day and I just wanted to be sure you were okay when you woke up. So, are you okay?"
Cara sat up too, facing sideways on the bed, and crossing her legs. She pulled her blanket to her lap and hugged the pillow to lean on, scrubbing a hand over her face.
"I am," Din said, sounding surprised.
"Do you want to tell me what happened earlier?"
"I can tell you everything. If you want to hear it."
"You know I do."
"I thought I'd only blocked out some of my time there," Din began. "But now I know I didn't remember most of it. Not once I got here, especially after I woke up after the fever. It was like the more my body healed, the more my mind shut it all out."
"Makes sense. Defense mechanism."
Din started telling Cara the whole story, starting from the beginning when he'd been captured. She broke in with the occasional question as he continued.
"How many actually brought you down?"
"I don't know, maybe twenty or thirty? Depends on if you count each group separately or together. There was one group that got me down in front of the Moff, then another group that I tried to fight off after they dragged me away."
"Twenty or thirty? Is that all?" Cara teased and Din chuckled lightly.
"Well, they were wearing beskar and they kept using grappling lines to strangle me. I woke up the first time and fought off the next group, only to have one of them strangle me again."
"Yeah, yeah whatever. Excuses, excuses."
Din rolled his eyes and continued his story.
"A droid shot at you for how long?"
"Impossible to tell for sure, but I'd estimate at least five hours."
"Wow Mando, I'm no slouch but I probably would've given up before you did. Not by much, mind you, but maybe a few minutes."
"I was practically asleep on my feet for the last hour at least. Got back to my cell covered in blaster marks. I was just happy the thing wasn't set to kill."
"Gideon didn't want it to be that easy for you."
"No, he did not." Din said it with absolute certainty, then continued his story again.
"He used you to train his troops? That's kind of brilliant and awful."
"I did have to admire the twisted brilliance of some of his ideas sometimes."
"He had one droid break your leg but then had another medical droid treat you?"
"He was doing everything he could to keep me awake. That was another time I thought I might be a goner."
"Shock?"
"Yeah, it was bad."
Cara was stunned to learn that Gideon had used sensory deprivation on Din. That was a particularly cruel form of torture, especially when the person was already worn down from previous torture, not to mention lack of food and hardly enough water.
"How long did he leave you in the dark like that?"
"I don't know. The first time I estimated it was less than an hour, but the time kept growing exponentially from there. Once I was sure it was days."
"Days? I can't imagine what that would do to a person."
"I can tell you exactly what it does. Or at least what it did to me. I was dizzy, I couldn't figure out which end was up, my equilibrium was off. I was too wired to sleep so I stayed awake the whole time. It made me slowly lose my mind."
"Which is exactly why that bastard did it."
"Exactly."
Din continued his story until he got quiet for a little while, making Cara think that he might be done. Then he spoke again, but more quietly than before.
"I remember it now. I didn't before. Just flashes. Mostly the pain. But now I remember every detail, up until I lost consciousness."
"Remember what?"
"When Gideon blinded me."
"Kriff, Din."
"It all came back to me. That's what happened this morning."
Cara nodded sadly. It made sense now, why he'd suddenly been terrified and unable to breathe. It must have felt like he was reliving the entire thing all over again.
"Everything just hit me at once and I couldn't get ahead of it. At first, I wasn't even sure if they were memories."
"You don't have to talk about… that part."
Din knew she meant the blinding.
"No it's okay. I think I should. Hiding it away, even from myself, isn't good. It's just a memory. It can't hurt me."
"Okay, I'll listen to whatever you want to tell me."
Cara took a steadying breath to steel herself for a story she was sure she wasn't going to like.
"The Moff was angry. He had done everything he could, thrown every torture at me for months."
"For what purpose? What did he want from you?" Cara still wanted to understand.
"I'm sure he wanted to see me suffer for what I'd done to him. But he never asked for anything, no information, nothing."
"And then?"
"Like I said, then he asked that I yield, and he'd give me a warrior's death. And like I said, I was almost tempted. I'm not proud of that but…"
"Din don't you dare feel bad about that. What he put you through, I can't even imagine. Many would have yielded well before it got that far but you never did. No matter what he threw at you."
"I just… couldn't. When he took my helmet… that was it. That was all he had left but even then…"
"You didn't yield. Of course, you didn't. Kriff, Din. I knew you were tough but… wow."
He shrugged.
"When he saw my face, Gideon knew he'd lost. He'd used every weapon he had. He'd even spent time thinking up new things to do to me. He actually told me that once, as if it was some big game to him. Like he was having fun. But nothing worked."
"So he..?" Cara couldn't finish.
"Yeah. Are you sure you want to hear about this?"
"Yes, Din. I've been in war, I can handle it. You had to survive it, the least I can do is hear about it. Don't worry about me. If I didn't think I could, I'd tell you, you know that."
He did know that, so he continued.
"Before the helmet, he had already had some… fun. He removed every piece of beskar and used a metal rod, maybe an iron fireplace poker? I'm not sure. What I do know is that he had it heated to the point where it glowed red."
"Kriff, then what?"
"He burned every part of me that had been covered in armor."
Cara swallowed hard. Din had a lot of armor. The sheer number of burns that would have been inflicted on her friend horrified her. They would've been everywhere. Now she understood why he had so many healing wounds still all over him. Even his hands.
Tears started to burn at the edges of Cara's eyes, but she clamped down on that emotion. Din would stop talking if he saw her in pain, and she wanted him to keep going if it was helping him.
A thought occurred to Cara, and she had to ask, even if a part of her was screaming not to, not to find out the truth.
"Wait, does that mean that's what he did to…?"
"My eyes? Yes. That's what I finally remembered right before everything went to hell this morning. I remember all of it now, but the eyes were the most important part for me to remember, I think."
"How did you survive?" Cara's voice was a hoarse whisper, still fighting the tears that desperately wanted to come out, in response to the horrific pain her friend had suffered.
"I don't know. I blacked out almost immediately after he put the thing on my eyes."
"Thank the Maker for that."
Din nodded thoughtfully.
Cara now understood why Bo had never gone into detail about what she saw when she found Din. The Mandalorian leader had only told Cara she found him in his cell, that he'd been unable to see, and hinted at the extremity of his injuries. Cara felt a little bit for Bo now, too. Seeing a friend in that condition, she was glad she hadn't had to do it. She'd already had Din's blood on her too many times, already worried that he was going to die in her arms, she didn't need to have that memory added to the list. Bo could start making her own list.
"But it's not like I had some great epiphany and decided that I must live," Din continued. "I truly thought I was going to die. I said a mental goodbye to Grogu and prepared myself to be reunited with my parents in the next life."
Cara nearly lost control of those rebellious tears.
"When I woke up after, I think it's possible several days had gone by. I didn't know what had happened. I didn't even remember that I was blind. I thought they had turned out the lights again."
"However you survived, you did it."
"I do wonder though."
"Wonder what?"
"Why I survived. If I heard someone else telling the story I just told you, I wouldn't believe it."
"I think you did it for the kid. This is just my opinion, and it could be a load of bantha crap, but I think you didn't want to leave him alone. You didn't want to do to him what had been done to you."
"Maybe you're right."
They talked a little more, but soon both were yawning.
"Sorry again, for waking you up."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I didn't actually hear you get up, even though I was waiting for it. I only heard the fresher door. I forget how kriffing quiet you can be sometimes."
He shrugged. "Bounty hunter," he said as an explanation. "I've learned to be quiet when it's needed."
"Right. But you also make noise when you want. Sometimes you sound like a bantha tromping in with all that armor and weaponry."
"That too. Both have advantages. Sometimes it's good to sneak up on a quarry and sometimes it's good to let them hear you coming."
"So, you can scare the snot out of them?"
"Whatever works. Though I doubt I'd scare anything out of anyone in my current condition."
"Don't underestimate yourself. I heard you took out a bunch of Imps on your way out of the base, in much worse condition, and blind."
He shrugged. "I did what I had to do. Adrenaline. That was all I had left. I didn't last long after that."
"But it won't be for much longer though. We'll get you whipped back into shape soon. I think this is going to help a lot. Being able to sleep."
She didn't mention it, so as not to jinx it, but Cara hoped the current breakthrough carried over to Din being able to eat again as well. Something told her it would.
He nodded thoughtfully. "I think so, too."
He yawned. "Speaking of which, I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to go back to sleep now."
She chuckled. "Me, too. Though I am a little surprised you need more sleep. I think you slept at least fourteen hours already today."
Din got settled into his bed, dropping his head on his pillow as he faced her. Cara did the same.
"Going without sleep for weeks will do that."
"True. Good night, old man."
Din chuckled at the nickname and closed his eyes. "Good night, Carasynthia."
"Call me that again and I'm going to whip you back into shape right now in this room."
Din snorted. "You could try."
He rolled over and Cara smiled to herself as she settled into her pillow.
There's the old Din we all know.
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And there you have it! Still at least two more chapters, possibly three left to go on this story. But Din is finally on the way to recovery now and I'm really looking forward to writing him getting back into shape and being that badass Mandalorian we all know and love. I mean he's always a badass, but now he'll be one physically again soon.