I really need better camouflage. Din thought, wincing as a bit of sand trickled down his neck. This method isn't as foolproof as I thought.

He was lying flat on his stomach at the top of the canyon ridge, sharp sandstone digging uncomfortably into his ribs and poking his elbows. His neck itched, dried sand working its way further down to his shoulder blades.

Din looked back down the scope of the pulse rifle, trying to ignore the persistent itch in his shoulder blade, the ache in his ribs. Fett was easy to spot in the canyon below, the bright moonlight reflecting off of his armor. The sight of Fett standing alone out in the open made Din's stomach turn uneasily. This isn't gonna go well.

Din looked up from the scope and scanned the surrounding area again with his thermal sensors, looking for any sign of a life form. Nothing.

Din's com crackled softly, Fett's voice a low whisper. "Anything?"

"No." He replied, zooming out a little to better scan further into the canyons. "I don't like this, Fett."

Fett grunted, a soft sound over the comlink. "I know. I don't either."

"Maybe we should call it off. He could've retreated, gone back to Mos Espa." Din said, frowning as the sensor alerted him to a small heat signature a mile ahead of Fett's location. It was too small to be a humanoid, and it wasn't a life form. Shit.

"Wait, stop." He said, focusing in a little more on the spot. "There's something up ahead."

"Bane?" Fett's voice was tense.

"Don't think so. It's small, not a life form either. Be careful, it might be a bomb."

Fett slowed down a little, keeping his pace at a relaxed stroll. "If he's watching, probably better not to tip him off. You sure it's a bomb?"

"No." Din said tersely, fiddling with the controls on his helmet to adjust the sensors. "Hard to tell."

"Location?" Fett asked, keeping his voice low.

"Twenty feet ahead." Din squinted to read the information flashing across the inside of his helmet's visor. "In front of the cave."

Fett grunted in acknowledgement. "I see it."

Din zoomed in on the object as much as he could, keeping the pulse rifle trained on the heat signature.

Fett took another few slow steps. "Looks like a detonator. Imperial class."

"Kark." Din swore, peering down the scope of the pulse rifle. "Get out of there, Fett."

Fett slowed to a stop but didn't move away from the detonator, taking a slow look around.

"Fett?" Din swore under his breath in Huttese as Fett continued to stand there, his blaster trained on the shadows.

"What do you see? What's going on?"

"Hello, Bane." Fett said, raising his voice over Din's harsh whispers.

"Well, well. If it isn't Boba Fett." A wiry humanoid stepped out of a small cave tucked underneath the ridge, his blue skin almost invisible in the silver moonlight. He drew a blaster from his hip holster and pointed it at Boba, smiling to reveal a set of horribly yellow teeth.

Din swore violently, first in Mandalorian and then in Huttese and Tusken for good measure, and aimed the pulse rifle on Cad Bane, zooming in on the man's cold red eyes.

"You might wanna tell your little friend there to stand down." Bane sneered, his voice a low, rasping sound through the modulator.

Fett scoffed. "Give it up, Bane. You're surrounded. If you want to leave here with your life, I suggest you put down the blaster."

Bane laughed, and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a detonator switch. He hovered one finger over the large red button, smirking. The smug look on his face made hot anger boil in Din's blood.

Bane gestured casually towards the detonator with his blaster. "I think your friend there will be a little more understanding. After all, we wouldn't want your Mandalorian to haul you back to your palace in little pieces, now would we? Either he puts down the rifle, or you die."

Din took a shallow breath, his heart thumping wildly. No no no no. His hands shook, the scope of the rifle vibrating. Shit. Focus, Mando. Focus.

"You're outnumbered." Fett snarled angrily. "Even if you kill me, you won't get away."

"I'll take my chances." Bane replied, placing his thumb on the switch and sneering up at Din. "What's it going to be, Mandalorian?"

Din tried to wrestle his heartbeat under control, pushing down the panic that clawed at his ribs. He made himself pull a shaking breath through his teeth, forced himself to steady his shaking hands and fired, the shot hitting Bane squarely in the chest. The bounty hunter roared in pain and dropped the blaster, slamming his finger on the detonator switch as he fell.

The detonator exploded, the force of the blast sending both Fett and Bane flying backwards into the sands.

Fuck. Din tossed the rifle aside and threw his body over the ridge, sharp pain shooting up his leg as he hit the sandy rock below. He pushed himself to his feet and limped as fast as he could to Fett's side, fear seizing in his chest.

"Fett!" He shouted hoarsely, rolling the other man onto his back. Din felt at his neck with trembling hands, sagging in relief when he felt a racing pulse. Fett stirred a little on the ground, groaning faintly.

"Djarin?" His voice was gravelly and confused, but he didn't sound badly hurt.

"Are you all right?" Din demanded anxiously, helping Fett to sit up.

"Yeah." Fett grunted, rotating first his arms and then each of his legs experimentally. "Yeah, just got my bucket rung a little. Doesn't feel like anything's broken."

Din sighed, relief washing over him. "Good." He cast a quick glance over to where Bane lay unmoving in the sand, the blaster hole in his chest still smoking. "Looks like we got him."

"Yeah." Fett groaned.

Din offered Fett a hand and helped him to his feet, ignoring the stabbing pain in his leg. Fett patted him on the shoulder gratefully.

"Good shot."

"Thanks." Din rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Reassured that Bane was dead and that Fett was all right, he took a few deep breaths, trying to manage the pain that resurfaced as the adrenaline faded. His whole body ached fiercely now that the danger had subsided, protesting his sudden fall from the top of the ridge. Sharp pain pulsed in his leg, blood dripping down and pooling in his boot. His shoulders hurt where he'd fallen on a piece of sandstone, a deep bruise blooming underneath his armor. His arm twinged painfully, wet with blood where a rock had sliced through his flight suit.

Now that the danger was over, Din felt more than a little foolish at his panicked reaction. Fett's beskar had protected him from the blast, but no amount of armor could protect Din from a thirty foot fall off a cliff.

Stupid. Din thought angrily, shifting his weight onto his good leg. Throwing himself off the canyon ridge like that was a rookie mistake, the result of foolish panic. I'm no better than an untrained apprentice, panicking in a fight.

Din had been the covert's hunter for years. He had always been able to remain calm under pressure, keep a cool head during a fight. It was why he was one of the best bounty hunters in the parsec.

But now, one explosion and I go throwing myself off a fucking cliff.

Fett sighed and took off his helmet, rubbing his forehead wearily. "Seems like he didn't have backup, but we should scout the area just in case, see if any other hunters turn up."

Din nodded, taking a slow breath and exhaling through his teeth, pushing the pain to the corners of his mind. There's work to do. "I'll take west, you take east?" He forced himself to take a few steps, drawing his blaster.

"Are you all right?" Fett asked, frowning. He looked Din up and down carefully.

"Fine." Din said stiffly. He shifted his weight to stand on both legs, swallowing a hiss as pain shot up his bad leg.

Fett raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Looks like you're limping a bit. How'd you get down here so fast, anyway?"

Din cleared his throat. "I jumped." Sounds better than 'I dropped to the ground like a karking stone'. He thought wryly.

"You jumped?" Fett demanded. He did not sound particularly impressed.

Din shrugged. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Fett rolled his eyes and moved to Din's side. "Sit down, I'll check you out."

Din balked. "It's not necessary, really."

"Sit." Fett pushed him gently backwards. "Seriously, Djarin, that's a long drop."

Din sighed but acquiesced, sitting on a flat stone a little ways away from Bane's motionless body.

"It's just some bruises, Fett." He protested weakly, trying not to sigh in relief as he shifted his weight off his bad leg.

Fett hummed and ignored him, checking him over with steady hands. When he got to Din's leg, he frowned. "Your leg, how does it feel?"

Dins shrugged. "All right."

Fett rolled his eyes and gently prodded Din's leg, making Din hiss with pain. He frowned in concern, leaning back on his heels. "Well, it feels like it's broken. We'd better get back to the palace, get you some bacta."

Din bristled, shrugging Fett's hands away. "It's fine. It can wait. We'd better scout the area first."

"Djarin, you can hardly walk." Fett said, his tone disbelieving. "It's more important that we get you medical care."

Din pulled his shoulders up defensively, irritated. "I'm fine."

I'm a grown warrior. He wanted to scream, feeling frustration bubble to the surface. The job comes first. Din had been a lone hunter for many years, used to working solo. If something happened, if he got injured, it had to wait until the target was brought in and the bounty collected, when he was back among the covert. When it was safe to let his guard down, to let Paz tend his injuries and insult him for his stupidity, to listen to the armorer's advice as she made him a new pauldron, to take a long nap in the medbay. The covert understood that the job came first, and they had always been there to patch him up when it was done.

A wave of fresh grief hit him squarely in the chest. The covert had been his home, the tribe his family. Now he was an apostate, alone among outsiders who could not possibly understand what it was to walk the way of the Mandalore.

Of course Fett doesn't understand. Din berated himself. He's not clan, he's never sworn the Creed. I can't forget that.

Din scowled behind his helmet. "The job comes first, Fett."

Fett grunted irritably, his hands hovering over Din's leg. "We got Bane, that's the important thing. There's no use putting more strain on that leg on the slim chance that there are more hunters out here."

"I - there might be other hunters out there, still." Din protested. It sounded weak even to his own ears.

Fett waved a hand dismissively. "I doubt it. He would've geared up for another assault on Mos Espa, if he had that kind of backup." He looked Din up and down, an exasperated expression on his face. "The job's done, Djarin."

He might be right. Din thought reluctantly. No one had come after them yet, after all. But still. "I don't like it." He muttered.

Fett made an impatient sound and clipped his helmet to his belt. "We'll come back, do a scan of the area later."

"Fine." Din grunted, reluctantly letting Fett pull him to his feet and tuck a strong arm underneath Din's shoulders as he led Din in the direction of the canyon entrance.

It was slow going back to where they had left the speeders, even without the weight of the cannon, which Din had left at the top of the ridge along with the pulse rifle. Even with Fett supporting most of Din's weight, Din was only able to walk at a slow limp, his bad leg twinging painfully with every step. Fett kept his arm under Din's shoulders, holding him upright as they shuffled along.

Why did we go so far on foot? Din thought irritably, wincing. Sweat trickled into his eyes and poured down his back, and every slow step sent pain shooting up his leg. He tried to focus on breathing, on taking slow, measured steps, gritting his teeth. Fett seemed to sense that Din's energy was fading, and pulled Din closer to his side, their pauldrons clanging together softly. Din let Fett bear more of his weight and focused on each excruciating step, breathing shallowly through his teeth.

Maybe it was a good call, heading back. Din thought ruefully, blinking sweat out of his eyes. The walk back was proving to be much more difficult than he had anticipated, even with Fett's help. He stumbled and tried to suppress a hiss of pain as the movement jarred his leg.

"All right?" Fett asked, slowing the pace a little.

"Yeah." Din panted. "Yeah, fine."

Fett made a concerned noise and wrapped his fingers tightly around Din's bicep. Despite the pain in his leg, in his arm, Din's heartbeat picked up at the touch, remembering dream-Fett's strong, gentle hands pinning him to the bed. His cock stirred with interest at the memory, recalling it all too vividly.

I really need to get laid. Din thought ruefully, letting Fett pull him closer and press their hips together, his heart racing. He couldn't help but lean into it, enjoying the feeling of Fett's arm holding him upright, the solid pressure of their hips and shoulders pressed together. It wasn't the same as the feeling of Fett holding him in the Tusken tent, their skin touching, but it was good, a comforting warmth that kept Din from passing out as his leg protested each step. I've never had this problem before. Had it really been so long, that Din's body reacted to the first sentient in beskar he saw? Am I really that pathetic?

"Almost there now." Fett murmured, his voice a reassuring rumble. "Just another mile."

Din nodded, letting Fett pull him along, every inch of his body truly aching now. He pushed thoughts of Fett's body out of his mind and hobbled along, letting the pain crowd out any lingering arousal. With the blood trickling slowly down his broken leg as he took small, shuffling steps, it wasn't hard to focus on the pain and suppress any other feelings. Maybe not the best approach, Din thought, but it'll have to do.

They shuffled along in silence for a while, each minute passing by agonizingly slowly as Din forced his aching body to cooperate. Finally, the edge of the canyon came into view, their speeders still parked just beyond it.

"Almost there." Fett said, shifting his grip on Din's middle and guiding him over to one of the speeders. Din nodded and did his best to walk along without falling over. He let Fett help him onto a speeder, inhaling sharply through his nose as the movement jostled his leg.

"You good?" Fett asked, still holding onto Din's shoulder, his grip tight.

Din nodded, his head swimming. "Yeah." He rasped, trying to sound as normal as possible. Judging by Fett's frown, he wasn't very successful.

"Here, move over." Fett said, gently pushing Din's shoulder. "I'll drive."

Din blinked at him, his mind fuzzier than he would have liked. It was beginning to feel very difficult to concentrate, black creeping up on the edges of his vision. Kark.

"What?" He managed, letting Fett push him to the back of the speeder.

"You're in no shape to drive." Fett said, throwing one leg over the speeder and settling in front of Din with a grunt. The speeder wasn't really built to accommodate two grown men, especially not two warriors fully outfitted with beskar armor. Fett's back was pressed to Din's front, their legs touching. Din stiffened, his heartbeat picking up.

"Relax, Djarin." Fett said, turning the ignition of the speeder. It came to life with a roar, drowning out Din's half-hearted protests.

That fall must've been worse than I thought. Din mused, shaking his head a little to clear it. His leg throbbed.

"What about your speeder?" He asked, inhaling sharply through his nose.

He felt Fett shrug as they set off across the sands, leaving the canyon far behind. "I'll come back for it later. We'll be back soon. Rest, if you like."

After sleeping pressed up against Fett's body for the last two nights, Din didn't need to ask what he meant. I shouldn't, he thought morosely, but it was so - nice.

He wasn't supposed to share this kind of intimacy with an outsider, or even with most of the clan. He could almost feel the armorer's disapproving stare, her expressionless visor conveying her disappointment in every choice he'd made since Morak. He shook away the image, guilt tearing at his chest, and swallowed past the lump in his throat.

I should keep my distance, but - fuck, it was nice. It'd been nice, having Fett hold him, cuddle him as they slept side by side. His leg throbbing, his vision blurring, Din couldn't help but long for that comfort, that companionship.

This is a bad idea, he thought distantly, thoughts of the armorer's disapproval making his stomach churn. But fuck it. Tentatively, he rested his head on Fett's shoulder, resting a hand on Fett's hip. Fett made an approving sound and placed his own hand on Din's, pulling Din's arm further around Fett's waist.

"Hold on." Fett rumbled, doing the same with Din's other arm, so that Din was all but hugging him from behind, his arms wrapped around Fett's solid waist, Fett's gloved hand on his arm. Din curled his fingertips around the edge of Fett's chest plate, wishing he could rip their gloves off and thread his fingers through Fett's.

Fett's hand tightened on Din's arm, the pressure warm and solid. "We'll be back soon, Djarin."

"Hm." Din pressed his face into Fett's shoulder, his helmet digging reassuringly into his forehead, the beskar cool on his sweaty skin. He closed his eyes, focusing on taking slow, shallow breaths, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his leg, the bruises on his shoulders, the stinging cut in his arm.

"You still with me?" Fett asked, his voice vibrating against Din's armor, raising goose bumps on his arms.

"Yeah." Din grunted, blinking to clear his vision. Don't pass out. He told himself sternly, leaning hard against Fett's shoulder. "'M fine."

Fett made a concerned noise, adjusting his grip on Din's arm to hold him in place more securely.

Probably a good thing. Din thought sluggishly. He was fighting to stay conscious now, his vision narrowing. The pain was becoming harder to manage now, harder to resist, and he felt the darkness taking hold, pulling him under.

Fett said something else, his voice indistinct and far away, the vibration rattling the beskar under Din's cheek. He felt them stop, felt Fett shift and help him off the speeder, his uncooperative limbs distant and fuzzy. Din relaxed into Fett's grip, tucking his head into Fett's neck, spots dancing in his vision.

"'M fine." He muttered, grasping at Fett's flight suit with trembling hands. "'S fine."

The world spun around him as Fett spoke again, his words a soothing rumble against Din's cheek, but it was too late. The last thing he felt before the darkness dragged him under was Fett's hands, catching him as he crumpled to the ground.