Grogu tossed and turned in a fitful sleep, and his groggy mind had trouble thinking why. He could have sworn he'd been sleeping deeply, vaguely remembering passing out in his father's arms at the campfire. Something niggled at him that something wasn't right—something sinister.
Trying to ignore it for the sake of sleeping some more and figuring it was just the beginning of a nightmare, Grogu rolled over again—this time towards his father as he bonked into his chest. The man didn't flinch or even move to instinctively cuddle him closer, so Grogu knew he was deep asleep. Scootching a bit closer so he was pressed up against him, the baby felt his father's chest expand and recede in a very steady and relaxed rhythm. He could just make out the quiet breaths cycling through Din's lips above him, the sound instantly calming him. The boy cooed quietly, drawing much comfort from the familiar sensation, and settled down again.
But a greedy and sneaky impression of evil crept into his thoughts again. And this time it made him a bit dizzy. Huffing in frustration, the confused infant drowsily rubbed his face against his father's shirt.
Go away, Grogu whimpered to the mean essence and tried to nuzzle against his father's chest again.
But the lurking presence only grew bolder and didn't listen. Oddly enough it seemed…hungry. But in a very scary way and continued to grow. Nightmarish flashbacks of the Nevarro cantina and Moff Gideon's death on Mandalore suddenly appeared in his thoughts and further added to his confusion. Grogu couldn't help the little whimper of fear that escaped his own lips and tried again instead to focus on the movement of his father's breathing and block all else out. In…out…in…out. Just a nightmare…not real…just a nightmare…not real.
But then a new aura pressed his thoughts for attention—DANGER! This sensation he recognized—the voice of the comforting Light of the Force. His dizzy brain knew at least he could trust it. The Force's warning perked him out of his confusion a little bit. He drew in a deeper breath to wake up more and found himself suddenly coughing on something foul. His senses began to come alive as his thoughts struggled to reason.
Smoke? Still at the campfire? No…on a bed.
But the sensation of heat was also definitely present and made him regret the fact that his father had evidently put him back in his tunic before going to sleep. The more persistent warning from the Force was enough to nag him fully awake and Grogu opened his eyes and peeked outward. All at once, a painful sting burned his eyes and he shut them quickly. But he'd glimpsed enough.
FIRE!
Instantly awake, Grogu pushed himself to his feet and tried peeking again through squinty eyes.
"Meh?" The child swiveled his head quickly to glance at the room and found the source of the sneakyhungryevil in the flames that were eating away at their bedroom. The entire room, save for the bed, was on fire! Dizziness hit him again and he swayed sideways into his father, his little fingers gripping his shirt to remain upright. Still, his father did not react to his movements. Turning his gaze away from the immediate danger, Grogu tugged hurriedly on Din's shirt.
Buir! Wake up! Fire!
But his father's eyes remained closed, his breathing slow and deep. His hair was already starting to become soaked with sweat from the heat.
Why won't he wake up?
The annoying prickle of the smoke made Grogu choke again, and he knew he had to do something to buy them time. Thankfully, this wasn't his first run-in with fire.
Raising his little paws, Grogu called upon the Force to establish a barrier. It wasn't exactly hard, but it required concentration and wasn't easy to maintain for long. Insulating himself and his father from any more smoke as well as the flames that continued to grow, the child glanced once again at the sleeping man beside him.
BUIR!
After his son's call penetrated his dreaming and roused him, Din's eyes rapidly swept across the bedroom, senses instantly on high alert. Everywhere he looked thick, brown smoke slunk and swirled in a bold yet lazy manner while its more aggressive counterpart raged everywhere—bright orange, angry flames illuminated the disaster in progress. The fully wooden room was no match for the blaze and evidently had been burning for a short while already. The fire's tendrils never touched Din, and the heat, though miserable, was nothing what it should be. Tucked close beside him on the mattress, Grogu struggled against the fire, maintaining a Force shield around them on the bed. The boy trembled, his face scrunched in strain while a few tendrils of smoke managed to infiltrate the protective bubble.
How long has he been at this?
Din coughed harshly again at the small bit of smoke slipping through as he quickly gathered his son into his arms.
Can you hold on a little longer? We've got to get Cara.
No response was received through the Force as the child was too focused on maintaining their protection, but he managed to chirp in the affirmative.
Okay, pal, you've got this, encouraged Din as he shifted off the mattress and set his boots—thankfully still on from the previous night—onto the burnt floor. Grogu huffed in concentration as he made sure their protective bubble shifted right along with them, dispersing the flames as they moved. The fire ravenously licked the curvature of the Force shield, like some diabolical monster hellbent on devouring them, and Din couldn't help but instinctively clutch his son tighter to his chest. As they approached the bedroom door, already nearly burnt all the way to the ceiling, Din swiftly kicked the center and jumped back. The weakened wood shattered, sending furious sparks upward and smoke billowing in an angry huff. But it opened their escape route. Carefully stepping through the door with Grogu's powers still holding, Din hurriedly entered the short hallway and couldn't help but come to a sudden halt.
The entire Dune cabin was a roaring inferno.
Every inch of the exterior walls was consumed in starving flames. Though the high ceiling hadn't caught fire yet, the ornate, handcrafted support beams were now falling prey to the scorching enemy. It was impossible to see much else due to the smoke, but at least Din could make out that the upper levels hadn't been reached yet. His heart clenched within his already tight chest.
Cara.
A window exploded from somewhere, jolting Din back into action. Rushing for the stairs, he risked their stability and sped upwards two at a time. Thankfully the planks remained solid underneath his feet, but the smoke grew thicker on the upper floor, making it impossible to see. His lungs burned again and spasmed into coughing. As he carefully inched his way along the balcony landing toward Cara's room, he tucked Grogu into his shirt to try and protect him from the smoke tendrils that snuck through the barrier. The Force shield continued to hold strong for the most part and dispel most of the poisonous haze, allowing Din to see at least three feet in front of him. But the going was slow.
Keep it up, buddy. You're doing good, so good.
Din felt his son's body shake again from the intense concentration and knew he needed to speed up the rescue—not to mention for Cara's wellbeing. Possible scenarios of how he might find her flickered through his mind—none of them preferable. Pushing his thoughts aside to remain focused, urgency drove him forward. Reaching her door, Din skipped trying the handle in case it was hot and managed to break in the door on the second solid kick.
"Cara!" the Mandalorian shouted above the fiery roar, still deafening despite it being mostly downstairs. The room was relatively unharmed besides the smoke that had seeped underneath the door and filled the room. In the hazy dimness, Din found Cara out cold on the bed.
Please let her just be asleep.
Din quickly advanced to her side, roughly shaking her—only to receive no response.
Dank farrik!
Having not had Grogu's protection for as long and being located on the upper levels, the shock trooper had inhaled too much of the fumes in her deep sleep. Despite the shield, even the small bit of smoke filtering through the barrier was starting to make Din dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He knew he needed to move quicker.
Grogu, I'm going to have to set you down on the bed for a second. Just keep doing your thing.
Hurried but focused, Din pulled his son out from his shirt and settled him on the mattress. Grasping for Cara's muscular frame, Din heaved her towards the edge of the bed. The physical strain disagreed with his lungs, a swooning sensation of vertigo hitting him as he struggled to draw a full breath. Pushing through the difficulty, Din managed to angle his limp friend over his shoulder and anchor her legs against him with his left arm. Carefully stepping sideways as rapidly as he could, he scooped up his son in his free hand, tucked him back inside his shirt the best he could, and headed for the door.
All right, let's get out of here!
His family's lives in his hands, Din ventured back to the balcony hallway to face the raging fire. The flames by now had swarmed to the vaulted ceiling, and as the bounty hunter managed to reach the bottom stair, a piece of the roof suddenly crumbled inward and collapsed nearby, partially blocking off the route toward the back of the cabin. Smoke rolled outward and upward, greedily plugging the new hole and escaping toward the sky. As Din deliberated the best exit, he felt Grogu shudder against him and the shield suddenly flicker.
We're running out of time…
Rounding Cara's beloved stairway post that was now swallowed by flames, Din bolted for the front door. With the added weight and uneven distribution on his shoulders, the Mandalorian had to check his balance before gathering every bit of his strength to deliver a hard kick at the front door—which failed to budge due to the deadbolt lock he had engaged the night before.
Haar'chak!
Staggering back a step, Din took a quick second to breathe and rethink, his stability and strength declining as his lungs continued to struggle. How to get out? Going backward toward the bedroom was foolish due to the scale of the flames, especially if Grogu was waning. Too risky. The front door was not going to budge and the lock would be too hot and take too long to unlatch—only other option would have to be one of the windows. Din begrudgingly looked at the nearest front, floor-length window whose glass had already exploded out onto the porch. Unfortunately, the roaring blaze wholly consumed the hole of their only escape route, threatening their chance to leave. The protective barrier flickered again, making the decision for him. Staying any longer was not an option.
Window it is.
Heaving Cara further up on his shoulder and keeping a firm grip on Grogu, Din changed his trajectory and headed for the fiery exit.
Grogu?
A frightened little cry reached his ears and Din felt his son jolt with a cough of his own.
Just a few more seconds, bud, if you can strengthen the shield as much as you can…
If Grogu replied, Din couldn't hear him and had to trust his son's strength. Gathering his own resolve, the Mandalorian braced himself and steadied his feet before rushing for the window at a run. The Force barrier held, pushing the flames away, though the intensity of the heat was felt by all. Leaping over the small ledge, Din managed to stick the landing onto the outside porch's floor but instantly felt its integrity start to give.
No no no no no…
Pushing his body and lungs to give every ounce that he had, Din lunged for the stairs as the boards began to crumble beneath his feet, weakened by the fire's hunger. He managed to make it to the first step before his balance was lost and the trio crashed forward toward the soft ground, rolling apart.
Din groaned as his sore muscles and healing bruises protested the jarring impact, leaves crunching beneath him as he slowly rotated his body so he was laying on his back. His lungs hitched again, and he coughed harshly. When his pinched eyes reopened, billowing smoke filled his view as it puffed upward and outward into the forest above them. Din grimaced at the wind direction. It was not blowing towards the town several miles away; since the cabin was further around the mountain, he wasn't sure that anyone would even know it had caught fire. Thankfully the flames themselves appeared contained to the building itself with none of the surrounding ground or trees getting swept up in the blaze—but the damage was done, and as Din tilted his view towards the fire, he knew the cabin was lost.
A pathetic, little cough near his side shook him from his thoughts, and he instantly shifted his attention to his son. The child was not far away and was laying on his tummy in the mixture of leaves and pine needles. He coughed again before raising his round, brown eyes towards his father, his little body sprawled exhausted on the ground floor. A mournful whimper slipped from the baby's mouth before a tiny hand groped outward toward him in obvious desire. More than relieved that his son appeared mostly okay, Din rolled to his side to be able to reach Grogu and pull him back to himself before laying down again. The infant instantly went limp with tiredness once he registered he was resting on his father's chest—a place he recognized as safety and comfort. The Mandalorian raised his hand to gently pat the boy's back in pride.
"You did good, Grogu. I'm very proud of you. Thank you," sighed Din and could not have meant those words any more than he did. A small, sleepy coo warbled back in response, and Din felt a gentle pat-pat on his chest to assure him the deep gratitude was heard. Not long after, the third member of their trio began to stir nearby, and Din couldn't help but feel his heart sink for the inevitable to come.
Cara groaned as she rolled over onto her back, pain permeating her body.
What the kriff happened?
After taking her first deep breath of consciousness, her lungs immediately spasmed into a fit that couldn't seem to stop, which only made her pounding head feel worse.
Seriously…what the kriff HAPPENED?
Rolling back over to her other side, Cara coughed harshly toward the ground, sending a few pine needles scurrying. She could feel the slight bite of the chill of the early morning air at her back, but her senses read the temperature much differently from the front. After managing to get her strained lungs to cooperate, she raised her head to figure out what was going on.
Instantly she wished she hadn't.
Her body went rigid and numb at the sight of her second home burning. Hot, raging flames licked voraciously at every corner of the now blackened structure, devouring and mocking simultaneously. It could hardly even be recognized now. "No…" Cara barely whispered, her breath stolen from her raw throat. While her eyes took in the sight before her, her heart took longer to process. That was her father's cabin. That he built himself. For her mother. Where she and her brothers grew up. Her last connection to her past life. To her childhood. To them…now lost.
"NO!" screamed Cara, her voice hoarse and ragged from the smoke that still billowed angrily from the roof and every window. Scrambling to her feet, she launched herself towards the cabin.
I have to…
"There's no saving it, Cara." A firm grip clasped her wrist and tugged her back. She instinctively twisted out of the fist and bolted again. This time two hands grabbed onto her arm and again pulled her back.
"NO!" Cara adamantly shouted and leaned toward the house. Growling in desperation, she wrenched her arm away and tried to make a run for it. She only made it two steps.
"Cara Cara Cara…stop!" The same set of hands reached for her a third time, clamped onto her shoulders, and whirled her around. Instinct took over and Cara swung her fist with a desperate huff. The attempted punch was caught easily by a solid, strong palm and steadily lowered. The smoke-smeared face of Din Djarin suddenly became her sole view, his brown eyes large with insistence. She froze in his vice grip and could only stare back, her nerves paralyzed and overwhelmed. He took a labored breath before subtly shaking his head, empathy flickering across his face. "It's gone, Cara."
Funny. Those were the exact same words her captain had said the first time her world burned.
Too much…it's just…I can't…
The numbness morphed into sorrow and spread outward through her muscles and bones as her soul still struggled to process. Her frame trembled at the weight, too tired to bear it alone any longer. She didn't realize her body had started to collapse until she felt the strong, protective arms of her friend swiftly surrounding her and upholding her. And this time, she let him. Burying her face into his shoulder, she received him. With every fiber of her being, she clung to him. And he simply held her tight.
No words were spoken over several minutes as the pair embraced, the roar of the fire now muted in the background. Her form continued to shake, her nerves a mess. But she didn't pull away from Din and instead allowed him to rub his hand up and down her back to soothe her.
"I'm sorry, Cara. I'm so sorry…" came the gravelly voice above her, helping ground her a little.
She didn't cry—couldn't cry. A sense of shock still dominated her system, her emotions frozen in paralysis. Some long forgotten fact from her training as a soldier informed her of this typical response, but the implication was still lost on her—still too numb with sorrow to process accurately. Raising her head so she could at least breathe better, she tilted and rested the side of her cheek against Din's shoulder. A lost look glazed over her eyes as they roamed aimlessly about the forest, which was now muddled with smoke. She felt Din's arms readjust a bit, but they still strongly encased her in comforting safety—which right now was all she wanted.
A slight flicker of movement in the woods farther beyond caught her eye and she dazedly shifted her gaze. It was difficult to see as the morning wind was blowing the smoke in that direction, but she swore she had seen something. Squinting her tired eyes, she managed to make out the shape of a human—a man. The wind blew again and created a brief dispersion in the haze, allowing her to see better.
Allowing her to meet the cold, impervious stare of Ernesh Mercurius.
As she watched the smallest, knowing smirk creep onto his face, Cara's eyes slowly widened in understanding as he struck a single match and cradled it up towards a waiting cigarra nestled between his teeth. A miniature puff of smoke floated upwards—mixing with the cabin's fuming breath—before the hunter raised the dying match in mock solute and then idly tossed it away.
Denial had been replaced by numbness. And numbness had melted and mixed with sorrow. But now? Now it was rage's turn—and it burned hotter than hell itself.
"YOU?!" cried Cara in explosive shock, breaking free from Din's grasp with the flash of the flames reflecting in her eyes. The sinister smirk haunting the woods grew into a fully wicked grin before the wind shifted the smoke again, and suddenly, the predator was gone.
Without a second thought, Cara bolted in the direction of where Mercurius once stood. She heard Din call her name behind her, but he couldn't slow her this time, having to pause and grab his son first. Darting straight into the smoke, Cara blindly ran through the forest, confusion and anger driving her. It was impossible to know where she was going, but her speed never slowed. At any little sound she heard, she wildly diverted her route and plunged on ahead. On and on she ran until she'd lost any sense of direction. The smoke skewed everything, and Ernesh was nowhere to be found. She coughed harshly on the choking fumes, but still her voice thundered, "WHERE ARE YOU, YOU SON OF A…"
And suddenly the earth disappeared from underneath her feet.
Plummeting downward, Cara groped aimlessly in any direction around her. Her fingers occasionally scraped against dirt and stone as she fell but nothing helped to slow her descent. It was barely even a few seconds, but her speed and the depth and the angle of her fall compounded as she harshly crashed at the rocky bottom. A piercing, sharp pain shot up her right leg and throughout her core while an undeniably loud SNAP resounded. An agonizing scream tore through her raw throat as her body crumpled around her newly broken femur bone.
KRIFFKRIFFKRIFFKRIFFKRIFFKRIFF!
It was a pain unlike anything Cara had ever felt before in all her history of injuries. Rocking in the vice grip of suffering, Cara screamed and screamed. Too tortured to move but too overwhelmed to remain still, the woman trembled in a frightened, exhausted heap on the unforgiving ground floor of the deep hole. The vomiting came next which only added insult to injury. Attempting to swallow the pain was absolutely unthinkable—and so Carasynthia Dune found herself trapped in the earth's vice grip, smeared with sweat, smoke, and her own sick. A sob escaped her lips in response to her throbbing body, and it was a long minute before her eyes—clenched tightly in pain—finally opened and spied in the dim light of the hole something not but ten inches from her face.
A very familiar, small toy soldier.
And in that moment, the ocean of sorrow within—precariously held back for fifteen years—finally came rushing forth as waves upon her cheeks.
"Cara!"
Din scrambled to gather Grogu from the ground and felt the little one instinctively cling to the fabric of his plaid shirt, knowing they were about to run. Grasping his weary son close in the crook of his arm, the Mandalorian took off in the direction he'd seen Cara bolt. He'd lost her quickly in the vision-skewing haze of smoke that drifted boldly through the forest, but his eyes had not failed to catch a glimpse of what—or rather who—had prompted her to take off. Din harnessed the overwhelming wave of concern for Cara into a controlled fuel to push himself harder, a determination driving him to protect her. He fought the temptation to call out for her, knowing she was too focused on her pursuit to respond, and he was afraid he'd only give away his element of surprise to Ernesh. Instead, he pressed deeper into the dark dawn of the forest, only made darker by the cabin's last breath as it lingered in the early morning's damp air.
A sudden tremor rippled through Grogu against him, and Din paused his quick pace to assess why. The boy only buried his face into Din's side and clung tighter. A ripple of fear flowed across their bond just as Din's eyes caught sight of movement farther out in the fog. Quickly changing his direction to seek refuge behind a tree, the Mandalorian spotted three of Ernesh's men slowly creeping through the haze, bullet rifles ready at their shoulders. Din slowed his breathing to control it as his mind raced.
He could have had his men guarding the cabin as soon as we'd gotten out but didn't—Mercurius smoked us all out…but not to capture us.
Dots began connecting—the fire's glint reflected in hungry, dark eyes…the predatory sneer disappearing into the smoky mist…the haunting words of the storekeeper's wisdom replaying in his mind ("He enjoys it…"). Din's stomach twisted sharply.
We're actively being hunted…for pleasure.
The echoing click of a rifle snapped Din's attention back to the present and he hugged the edge of the tree closer, shielding Grogu. His eyes struggled to find in the smoke the three men in the forest farther out and noted that a fourth now joined them as they swept the woods, searching for him and his family. Din's right arm clenched in a fist, aching to mold itself around his blaster. These men were no match for a Mandalorian—Din knew he could make quick work of this, even with just his bare hands. Sure, he might not walk out completely unscathed without his beskar or his weapons, but that was a very small price to pay for his family. The smoke would even help cover his movements.
But his eyes drifted back down to his exhausted and frightened son, clinging tightly to him. While Din intimately knew the feeling of being both hunter and prey, his son only really knew the latter. The bounty hunter could almost hear the oh-so-innocent beep of the tracking fob that he'd once held in his own hand to hunt down his own son. Din could only imagine the flashbacks the boy was currently having and instead protectively snuggled him closer. He'd have to first get Cara and Grogu to safety—then he could deal with the threat.
A sudden scream ripped through the quiet morning air before it suddenly faded—Cara.
A couple random shots fired haphazardly into the woods in response, and Din quit dawdling to venture towards the scream. His feet moved quickly and quietly through the bed of pine needles and leaves. The harsh sting of the smoke made his eyes burn and squint, making it incredibly difficult to see anything. Kriff, I wish I had my helmet. Relying on his raw senses alone, Din listened carefully for any and all sounds. He now had one—no, two—men on his left, crunching noisily through the leaves. He had another farther up in front of him by about fifty feet but not heading in his direction. The four he'd left behind were most likely somewhere farther back about a hundred feet by now. Outlying shouts of three or more men came from far out on his right side, but the smoke's thickness distorted the sound enough to make the judgment of the distance difficult. It was enough to know he was now surrounded, although they hadn't realized it themselves yet. However, Din had no inkling where Ernesh was which unnerved him the most.
The screams continued but were extremely muffled and hard to trace until finally they disappeared completely. Din's sore throat clenched in fear of the worst and fought against the urge to cough. Perhaps she just realized she's safer being quiet? But the unknown whereabouts of Ernesh urged the Mandalorian to move faster. Another shiver from his son vibrated against his core as one of the posse changed position farther behind him.
A thought suddenly struck him.
Grogu?
A scared but inquisitive lilt rippled back across their bond. B-buir?
Do you think you can sense Cara in this fog? Can you lead me to her?
The fear remained but a virtuous yes was volunteered, and the boy eased his tension a bit to relax into the Force, searching for guidance.
To the right. Many steps.
Din somewhat wished his son could be a little more specific but reminded himself that while he was extremely gifted, he was still just a baby. Carefully placing his footing, Din shifted his direction in the disorienting mist, all the while being aware of his surroundings.
This far?
More steps. Okay, now forward. Few steps.
Okay…this good?
Ten more. Then down.
Din halted in confusion.
Down?
Yes, down.
Still not sure what his son exactly meant, Din hesitantly stepped carefully and kept his ears open for any sound, his eyes practically useless in this patch. The muffled and almost drowned noise of sobbing reached his ears finally, but had Grogu not guided him, he still would have failed to pinpoint the source. Deciding to drop to his hands and knees, Din cautiously crawled as silently as he could farther forward, still clutching Grogu close to his chest. His fingers suddenly found the lip of a hole of some sort, and he was incredibly thankful he had not placed his hand just a few inches farther out and tumbled headfirst. The sobs were certainly clearer now.
"Cara?" hissed Din as loudly as he dared. He wasn't answered and the crying continued, but he didn't need confirmation to realize he'd found his friend. Carefully edging himself closer to the hole, Din lowered his face farther to peer downward. It was certainly dark in the hole but was thankfully clear of smoke. The Mandalorian sucked in a purer breath and drank in the scent of damp earth and stone. Judging by the circumference of the opening and the volume of Cara's voice, Din figured the hole was about twenty-five feet deep or so and just barely big enough for two adults. He thought about calling out again but decided that maybe descending into the hole was actually his better bet.
"Cara, I'm coming down."
Carefully positioning himself, Din managed to wedge his back against one side of the hole, plant the soles of his boots against the opposite wall, and inch his way down. His still sore muscles complained at his strategic descent, but he was not going to take any chances of falling right on top of her. He risked a glance downward as he drew closer and could tell by her awkward position in the dim light from above that something was not right. Not to mention she's crying…she never cries. As he drew closer, the stench of vomit mixed with the moist earth, and he couldn't help the instinctive lurch of worry in his own stomach. Once arriving at about six feet from the bottom, Din jumped the rest of the way and carefully grounded his feet beside Cara. The woman still hadn't registered she had company, her shaking body crumpled almost in half and her face buried in her arms on the rocky floor.
"Cara….Cara!" called Din softly, awkwardly angling himself in the tight space and setting Grogu down to the floor (away from her puddle of puke). Bending his knees, Din squatted beside his friend and reached out to touch her—but his hand involuntarily paused. His mind froze. For goodness sakes, he'd literally just touched her—held her even—not but ten minutes ago…and yet his body still stalled. Granted, his instinctive reflexes had previously caught her so she wouldn't hit the ground, but still…he hadn't let go right away. Because she had needed it, he told himself—convinced himself. And so, he swallowed down the confusing war within between his own desire for companionship and his discipline of distance, grown from a deep fear of losing family…again. Memories of the cellar suddenly threatened to bury him in the dimness of the hole. Not now. She needs you, Din rebuked himself and forced his hand to reach out despite his unease.
"Cara, are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked in a hushed tone, resting his hand on her shoulder to rouse her. Her body jolted sharply in realization of his presence, her face flying upwards to see who had snuck up on her. Din noted very wet, dirty tear tracks on her cheeks, glistening in the meager lighting, before her face contorted in a painful, pinched expression and she bent her head back to the ground. "Cara, you're obviously injured. Where does it hurt the most?" Din tried again helplessly.
A tiny figurine was shakily pressed into his palm in silent answer.
Kriff.
Now Din felt even more helpless. His memory of last night's campfire story recalled the toy's owner as the pads of his fingertips reverently brushed against the chipped paint of her dead, younger brother's beloved trinket.
"I…I can't do this, Dalen," Cara wept, her voice eerily hushed and her head still bowed in shame. "Din, I can't…" She merely shook her head forcefully, unable to finish her sentence, and soon her panic stole her breath. Din noticed she hadn't even caught her slip in the name, but now was not the time to analyze.
"Hey, hey, look at me. Listen to me. Breathe," Din whispered forcefully as he watched her fingers reactively fight for purchase against the stone and earth and her lungs wheeze dangerously tight in the small space, the weight of everything about to bury her. Din knew the feeling. Again, memories of the cellar threatened to…
NO.
Without another thought, he weaved his hand through her hair to cradle her head and pulled her gaze straight back to his. Her eyes were wide with fear but remained locked onto his which were steady and sure. "No, you can't do this. No one can. So, stop trying," he firmly told her and knew from her unwavering stare that he had her attention and trust. "You've carried this long enough by yourself…and done far better than any I've met. But you can stop now. You've got us, okay?" A soothing coo murmured in the bleakness of the hole, assuring her that the sentiment was shared. Din watched Cara's eyes flicker briefly towards Grogu before returning to his, and for the first time in perhaps all the time he'd known her, the man saw a real glimmer of hope, pure and innocent, break through the weary, long guarded defense in her eyes. He braved a brush of his thumb across her bare cheek to wipe away the tears beneath those rich dark brown orbs. "You have me," the loyal Mandalorian warrior whispered softly. "Let me help you carry this."
Cara remained still for the entirety of a minute as she processed his promise, her gaze fixed on him. Only once did her sad eyes roam over his features briefly, and Din wondered if for a split second she was seeing someone else. But finally, she blinked once and jerkily nodded her head, a new resolve running through her. Breathing deeply through her nose, the fire of life lit again in her eyes, and the Mandalorian then knew she was with him.
"Good." Din couldn't help but let a quick, bright smile dawn upon his face before turning back to business. "Now, I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure your leg isn't supposed to look like that." He tried to keep his tone light to keep her calm, but inwardly his gut was in knots over the awkward bend in her thigh. No bones were showing—that was at least good—but it was a miracle Cara was even still conscious. Her pain had to be off the charts.
"I-it snapped when I f-fell," she managed to tremor out, tears still rolling down her cheeks but this time only from the physical pain. "I c-can't move it."
"And I can't get you out of here like this," sighed Din, debating their options. "Not to mention there's a gang of men with guns combing the woods for us up there. And we're unarmed."
"T-there's m-more?" stammered Cara worriedly, keeping her tone hushed like his, and glanced upward at the hole's opening. Din simply nodded and continued to visually inspect her leg. "W-why are they doing this to us?" she choked, her broken confusion mixing with the agony marring her face.
"Not sure. But I know they don't like us," was all Din offered. He realized he technically didn't know a whole lot else other than their leader was insane. He focused instead on the immediate need. "Cara, I'm really sorry, but I'm going to have to feel it a bit to know what to do to fix it. You good with that? You can curse me out all you like, just maybe try to do it quietly if you can…and perhaps use less colorful language than normal in front of the kid," suggested Din. Grogu hummed his customary triple syllable response that pitched higher in the middle and blinked once. A sarcastic eyebrow raised high on the soldier's forehead before she sucked in a deep breath to steel herself and nodded, pressing her back against the wall.
"No promises, but I'll t-try," she vowed bravely, but her voice shook and her eyes nervously followed his hands to prepare herself. Despite both of them being used to medical inspection, this injury certainly raised the stakes. Nearly the instant Din touched her thigh to identify the extent of the damage, Cara's body recoiled. "DANK FARRIK, son of a mudscuffer…" the drop soldier growled.
So much for language.
"Need a minute?"
"No, just…" Cara bit down her harsh reply and instead took a second to regather herself. Closing her eyes, she slowly breathed out her tension as a bead of sweat rolled down her temple. Din waited patiently with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes sympathetically surveying her.
"Don't give me that look."
"What look?" asked Din, worry seeping into his tone at hearing the weakness in hers.
"That look," sighed Cara as she reopened her eyes and stared slightly exasperated at him.
"You had your eyes closed, how can you even tell?"
"You usually wear a helmet, you idiot," the dropper pointed out, her voice clearly tired but not enough to pass up the opportunity for some ribbing. "Trust me, I can tell." Finally, she nodded her consent for him to try once more.
However, Cara flinched again as Din's capable hands assessed her injury, and she reactively barreled her fist toward the cause of the infliction. Unfortunately, the tight quarters didn't allow for avoidance.
"Ow!" hissed Din before he could bite down on his tongue, his bicep now throbbing from her solid punch. Cara couldn't even verbally respond, but her glare communicated plenty—you have no right to say 'ow' compared to what I'm going through! However, she managed to grasp his arm to prevent herself from throwing another swing at him. The Mandalorian swore her nails pierced through his flannel sleeve and dug deep into his flesh as her grip tightened. A guttural sob escaped her throat, and she craned her neck backward as his fingers palpated farther. "I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know," apologized Din, his voice pitching a bit higher as he regretted causing her more pain. Cara couldn't help but release a tightly strained groan through pressed lips and clenched her eyes shut. It was difficult to tell in the dim lighting and with the barrier of her solid muscle, but the Mandalorian was pretty sure it was at least a clean break. What he wasn't so sure about was if she was bleeding internally. Her leg certainly felt unnaturally warm…but he couldn't tell if her femoral artery had been damaged or not. If her pale complexion and the way she was sweating were anything to go by, Din wasn't fond of the odds.
He felt the Force suddenly tug gently at the edge of his consciousness.
Buir…
Grogu, I know what you're going to say, but you're exhausted enough as it is…
She won't make it out of the hole, buir. I can help.
Maybe if we wait until the men leave, I can try to find a way to…
Buir. You know that won't work. And we don't have time. This is the way.
Din paused and shifted his gaze toward his son in the damp hole. The boy stood there with shoulders weary, eyes resolute, and the tiniest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth.
I'm not sure where you got this cheekiness from.
The smirk grew just a smidge wider. Comes naturally, buir. The tone then turned more somber. And she needs help. Now.
His son certainly wasn't wrong. Din bit his lip in decision before turning his attention again to Cara.
"Okay, I think we've got a plan. Grogu will heal your leg…" Cara's eyes sprung open and darted almost in fear toward the child. "…but first I'm going to have to set it." Her eyes now most definitely darted in fear back to Din.
"And w-what's our other option?"
"We call up and ask Ernesh and his men for help."
"Ugh, you think you're hilarious, don't you," Cara groaned, but whether from her leg or the bad joke—it was hard to tell. "Fine. Set it. But I may p-punch you again."
"Punch away," smiled Din sadly, knowing they both knew how horribly painful this was going to be. He took the extra minute to be sure where to put his hands and how he exactly was going to pull and twist her leg. He knew from experience in his past at his covert that setting this type of fracture was not always a quick affair. He had one time been called in to help hold down a fellow warrior whose femur had been broken. It had taken five tries to get his leg set right. He prayed for Cara's sake this would be different.
He walked her through his plan in order to prep her. Like any soldier of honor, Cara took his explanation matter-of-factly, but Din could tell she was scared. If he was being honest with himself, he was too. There was a bit of shuffling as Din carefully maneuvered himself in the tight squeeze of the hole to straddle-kneel her injured thigh. Grogu was shifted up closer to Cara to make way for the Mandalorian, and the infant cooed in sympathy while delicately patting her left arm. A sudden thought popped into Din's mind, and he paused. "I know it's probably inevitable, so if you want to scream, my shoulder will be right here," he offered quietly.
"Always the gentleman," Cara huffed in shaky sarcasm, but gratefulness flickered briefly across her face. She understood his wise intent to muffle as much noise as possible so they wouldn't be discovered.
"Okay, on the count of three," directed Din in a steady, calm, low voice as his hands carefully encased her thigh, her body trembling beneath him. Cara closed her eyes and tilted the back of her head against the earthen wall, her expression anxious but determined. They were so close he could feel her hot breath on his face as she tried her best to slow her breathing through her nose and mouth. "One…" The Mandalorian's brown eyes shifted up from her thigh.
"Two…" breathed Cara exhausted. Dark eyes framed by longer lashes cracked open to latch desperately onto their matching pair.
"Three."
Din's hands firmly grasped her right leg below the break and began to slowly twist and pull. The Mandalorian slightly curved his body downward to help stabilize her thigh against him as he worked to free the bone from its abnormal position. As things shifted beneath his palms, Din's ears picked up the sudden increase in her respiratory rate above him and felt her muscles tightening in response.
"Easy, Cara, easy. Don't tense up on me, okay?" soothed Din in an extremely gentle voice. His words unfortunately did little to calm her as the unmitigated pain flared with the aggravation of the injury. The dropper couldn't help but instinctively squirm to try to get away from the infliction. Din was forced to shift his left hand up to her hip to anchor her body so he could continue pulling her leg steadily with his right. A small, high-pitched whine of agony slipped through her tightly pressed lips as her face pinched hard and turned red, fighting to endure.
"Just breathe it out, Cara. You got this," Din coached as he adjusted his angle so the femur would now slightly twist. Redoubling her efforts at his encouragement, Cara bit back a scream to instead try to breathe through the horrific misery. Her right hand hurriedly clasped on top of his left on her hip, her fingers curling in desperation around his thumb. As the tension grew tighter and more tender, a raw, drawn-out grunt escaped from her clenched jaw. Din's heart ached along with her body. He wished he had something to give her for the pain but forced himself to concentrate on the task. The sooner he resolved this, the sooner it would be over for her.
But time ticked by slowly.
Focusing on his fingertips, Din carefully maneuvered the lower half of her femur bone so it was distanced away from the upper half. Next, he began lining it correctly back up again, moving gradually so as not to create further damage. He was sure it had already been several minutes—not having much visibility or insight into the exact nature of the fracture created a lot of guesswork for him and, sadly, more painful probing and adjusting for the marshal. By this point, Cara's entire body was involuntarily shaking like a leaf and sweat dripped readily from her pale brow. With every breath she forced out, her voice faintly tremored with it. Din felt her left hand travel up his right arm to his shoulder before clenching a fistful of his shirt in a vice grip. He was amazed she hadn't yet cried out—her nearly silent resilience and strength while he worked was quite humbling.
Eventually, Din was pretty sure he'd aligned the bones properly and all that remained was to shift the two broken ends together. He decided it best not to tell Cara of his next manipulation, afraid she'd tense up against him in anticipation. Carefully he slid his left hand down from her waist to the lower part of her thigh to join his other hand that was already steadying the bone. Without another thought or warning, Din twisted quickly and firmly with authority; the sound of grating bone snapped sharply into place. Cara finally screamed before launching herself forward into Din's shoulder to muffle her agony. Her arms scrambled around his neck to pull him closer, and he reacted in kind to draw her in. With one arm surrounding her in a hug and the other hand keeping her head steady against his shoulder, he cradled her shaking form against his chest as she sobbed out her pain against him.
"You did good, soldier, real good," praised Din, tilting his head downwards with a proud smile to whisper above her ear, lips pressed against her sweat-soaked hair. Though she continued to moan against him, he felt her wearily nod her head in response and knew she would be all right once the moment had passed.
But the moment didn't last as long as Din expected. Cara suddenly froze in his arms when from above resounded a chilling voice with a flavor of wild mania and the intonation of a smashed-in nose.
"Well, well, lookie what we have down here…"
Dun dun dun…
Disclaimer: I am not in the medical field so many apologies to those who are smarter than I am…pretty sure we all know this is fanfiction and nothing to be relied upon for medical fieldwork knowledge. :)
Thank you to all who have favorited, followed, and reviewed! It means a lot!
I also realized that I haven't been putting the Mando'a translations…most are words I've used in my other stories but for those who don't know, here ya go:
"Buir" = father
"Ad'ika" = young one
"Haar'chak" = Mando'a curse phrase