pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C

word count: 4.3K

chapter summary: Din gets Marathel to a medical center on Canto Bight.

warnings: female bodily functions, descriptions of injuries, mention of wounds, blood, past abuse, rape, object rape, and medical procedures, English and Mando'a cursing

Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work.


Siewan sighed as she entered her notes from her last patient into her charting system. Normally, she wouldn't be down here in the trauma center — her usual gig was up on the women's floor — but they'd been short-handed again in trauma and it was slow upstairs. Besides, she got an extra spiff for picking up the extra shift, and the adrenaline kept her on her toes. Tonight, they'd had an entire wedding party — along with most of their guests — wigged out on synthetic spice edibles. They were legal here on Canto, much to the dismay of the local medical community. Siewan enjoyed a bit of the stuff herself from time to time, but it seemed that tourists had a problem with moderation. So far, that had been their biggest bit of excitement this night, and Siewan was now enjoying the relative quiet at time-and-a-half, thank you very much.

From her vantage point behind the check-in desk, she could hear the outer doors hiss open. She heard the guard say no weapons to whomever had come in, but she didn't bother looking up until she heard a mechanical but distinctly male voice say:

"Weapons are part of my religion."

Siewan looked up to see a Mandalorian, in full armor, helmet, and weapons, carrying what appeared to be an unconscious woman wrapped in a blanket. The security guard said, "No weapons in the trauma center. You can put them in the lockers over there, or take off."

The Mandalorian looked down at the woman he was holding, then over at the lockers, then back at the security guard. "This woman needs medical help."

"And you need to ditch the weapons. You can't come in until you lose them."

"She's unconscious."

"I don't care."

The Mandalorian tilted his helmet in vexation. "Tell me where I'm supposed to put her while I do that."

Siewan came through the inner doors with a gurney. "Put her here, sir Mandalorian."

The security guard sighed. "You're not supposed to do that, Siewan …"

"Yeah, well, he has a point, Gid, he can't very well hold her and take the weapons off at the same time." The armored man carefully placed the woman on the gurney, making sure she was lying flat and that her braid was not trapped under her head. Siewan watched his gloved hand briefly linger on her cheek, and then she pulled up her chart tracker. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asked the unconscious woman.

"Her name is …" began the Mandalorian, already pulling off weapons to stack in a locker.

The chart tracker beeped. "Oh, I can get her chip, sir. Let's see … Marathel ap Un … Unmapeth. From Jakuu?"

"Uh … yeah," said the Mandalorian, now starting to fill a second locker with his arsenal. He finally removed enough weaponry to appease the security guard, and he followed the nurse through the inner doors.

"Can you tell me what's going on with her, sir Mandalorian?"

"Mando is fine. She … has injuries, some new, some old. A concussion, exposure sickness. And … issues with her cycle."

Siewan raised an eyebrow at the Mandalorian. If he was cognizant of her menstrual cycle, he was rather chummy with her indeed. They got to the door to the treatment area, and she buzzed the door open. He made moves to go in with the gurney, but Siewan stopped him. "Only patients and close others can come back here."

He took a quick breath, saying, "I'm a Guild bounty hunter. She's my bounty. I go where she goes."

"Credentials," said Siewan, her friendliness gone. The Mandalorian reluctantly raised his arm, and she scanned his Guild badge, which did not have his name, only his serial number and standing with the Guild. "And her fob?"

"She … doesn't have one." Siewan scoffed and began to push the gurney through before he grabbed her arm. "Please, Miss …"

"Remove your hand before I call security."

He immediately moved his hand from her arm to Marathel's gurney. "Please," he said again. "She is … fragile." He dropped his voice lower. "I rescued her from a torture cult situation. She's been abused since she was a child."

Siewan narrowed her eyes. "You have knowledge of the extent of her injuries?"

"Yes."

"And she's not in danger from you?"

"Good lady, on my honor, on the honor of Manda'lor, I am here to protect her."

Siewan didn't know why, but she believed him. She considered herself a good judge of character, at least when she could see the person's eyes. She didn't know much about Mandalorians — other than the urban legends of them being faceless murder machines — but this one was willing to take off his weapons to make sure this woman got some help. He was standing still, just looking back at her while she measured his character a little more, and then nodded. "C'mon, then, let's get her back so the doc can take a look at her."

The Mandalorian breathed a sigh of relief, which cemented her opinion of him. "Thank you."

They went back through into the exam rooms, passing the curtained cubicles, most of which held the wedding guests that hadn't fully finished blazing yet. Din shook his head slightly; he was against legalization of synthetic spice products. Not because he believed drug use was evil, necessarily, but because he made a decent living off hunting marks related to the industry.

He looked again at this nurse who so far had been kind. She was another sweet-faced woman, and he hoped that Marathel would feel safe with her. They came to a large exam room, with windows that fogged over once they were inside to give privacy. Another nurse came into the room with them, and when he and Siewan moved to lift Marathel off the gurney, Din had already lifted her and moved her to the exam table as if she weighed nothing. "Mando, my name is Siewan, and this is nurse Brey. He's going to get a history from you regarding Marathel's injuries."

Din lifted his hands, shrugging. "Where do I start?"

"Most recent first?" asked Brey.

Din began with the exposure sickness, and then moved on to the concussion and the dislocated shoulder due to her promixity to a chemical explosion. Noticing that Siewan had a pair of scissors and was about to cut the blanket off Marathel, he cried out, "No!" The two nurses looked at him, puzzled. "No, please, I can remove the blanket from her. Please don't cut that blanket. It's a source of comfort for her." Siewan and Brey exchanged glances, and then the female nurse stepped back. Din reached to remove the blanket, then he faltered. He was reticent to expose her, to see her unclothed and vulnerable while unconscious again, but he carefully unwrapped the blanket from Marathel, doing his best to not let his eyes linger anywhere on her. He then turned his back as he folded the blanket, unknowingly hugging it to his chest. Thankfully, the nurses draped her with a sheet to give her some dignity.

It took some time to catalogue all of Marathel's injuries. Siewan asked many questions, and he gave as much information as he could while remaining as vague as possible. Two doctors had come in as Din began to describe the whip marks on her back — describing them as wounds, but leaving out the whipping part — and the nurses rolled Marathel to her side. One of the doctors gave a low whistle. "You said she was in a torture situation? I'm sorry, you need to be more forthcoming, Mando," said Siewan.

Din began to regret this decision. Yes, Marathel was in distress but she might have been able to get to Tatooine again just fine. Or he could have shouted out to Fennec to get him the location of those Reconstructionists; but no, he had to go to Canto, because it was close, and he was afraid to have to cope with Marathel bleeding out again, even though he was fairly sure that a woman couldn't die from having her damn period, but Marathel was exactly the kind of woman who possibly could, for Frith's sake, because she defied rules of reality.

For a brief moment, he wished that it was still the time of the Empire. Back then he could have been as vague as he wished; apparently the era of people minding their own kriffing business was over.

Yeah, and if you'd minded your own kriffing business you wouldn't have Grogu.

As if on cue, a quiet whimper sounded n the room. Everyone in the room went silent. One of the doctors asked, "Did anyone else hear a cat?" Meanwhile, Siewan just managed to catch Din moving something he'd had secluded under his cape, trying to conceal it with the blanket.

Siewan locked eyes — well, visor — with Din. He heard her mutter to Brey, "Get me security."

Din fully turned to the medical crew, holding his hand up to them, clutching the bag. "No, no, please don't, I beg of you."

"What's in the bag, Mando?"

"A child. I have a child in this bag …"

Siewan rolled her eyes. "That breaks all the rules of this hospital!"

"I know, I know. But I'm bound to keep him safe. He's too little to be left alone. And he loves this woman. He sees her as his Mama …"

Siewan listened to Mando's voice taking on a shrill tone, like he was sliding into panic. "It's okay, it's okay, Mando. Just … chill."

Din took a breath. "I'm sorry."

Siewan thought for a moment. "Is the child's presence why you're being so vague?"

"… yes. There were horrible things done to her, and I don't want to say them aloud in front of him."

"Is the child in danger?"

"I'm his protector. I have to keep him safe and concealed."

Siewan came forward, still with her hands raised in front of her. In the calmest voice she could muster — and she was great at calm voices, if she said so herself — "Look, Mando, this is a safe medical center. We specialize in protecting women and children, innocent lives. My usual ward is very secure, and it has a childcare center. Many of my patients are fleeing a dangerous situation, and often bring their children with them. Your child will be safe there, I promise. I have the clearance to take you up there and get the child settled in, so you can concentrate on helping Marathel. Are we cool?"

"He will be safe?"

"Absolutely. Biometric locks, the works."

"Are there … any fish or frogs or eggs up there?"

Siewan stared at Din. "… why?"

"I forgot to bring food and the kid eats … interesting things when he's hungry."

Siewan turned to look at her co-workers. Are you hearing this? She turned back to Din. "They have a variety of snacks and food items."

Din sighed with relief. "Wizard. Let's go."


On the staff turbo lift, Din watched as Siewan swiped a badge, looked into a retinal scan, and tapped in codes to set the lift in motion. "You weren't kidding about the security."

"Nope. It's a source of pride with us. We have several secure wards and childcare stations. I don't even know where they all are. I'm a floater between two, but I'm taking you to the one I like better. It will be closer to where Marathel will probably be admitted."

"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Siewan."

"It's Charge Nurse, buddy, but Siewan will work for you. And this isn't kindness. It's my job. Kindness would be pulling rank to make sure I'm Marathel's charge nurse for her stay. Think of me as her concierge. And once we get this child of yours checked in you need to fill me in."

"Yes, ma'am," said Din, now thankful that his decisions had led him here.

The inner set of lift doors opened, and Siewan went through a few security steps to open the outer doors. Din was impressed. As they walked to the childcare center, Siewan asked, "So this Marathel is pretty important to you?"

Din sighed. "It's complicated."

Siewan chuckled. "It always is."

"So everyone keeps telling me."

"Then you should believe them, Mando. Here we are." They were standing in front of a completely non-descript door that looked nothing like what Din would consider an entrance to a childcare center. Siewan punched in another complicated code, did another retinal scan, and then held up a wristband to a sensor. The door slid open and they entered a tiny room that resembled an airlock. Siewan waved to a camera above her head. "See? Totally secure."

"What if you're brought in here against your will at blaster-point?"

"We have protocols in that eventuality. But I can't tell you about them."

"Because then you'd have to kill me?"

"Yup," answered Siewan with a grin. The inner door opened and a short, round, half-Rodian came out. "Hey, girlfriend, what it is!"

"Hey yourself, honeybunch, what you got?" The rotund green woman looked Din up and down. "He's a little old for the program."

Siewan chuckled and said, "Mando's got a little one in the bag." She heard a little mewling sound in the bag, and then she bent down to see the tiny hand gripping Din's thumb. "Hey buddy, you wanna come out and say hi?"

The half-Rodian introduced herself as M'nka and ushered them through the second door into a larger room that held a desk, an exam table, and a large wall of frosted glass. M'nka patted the exam table, saying, "Pop the kid up here and let's take a look, Mando."

Din opened the bag and Grogu buried himself as deep in the bag as he could go. "Hey, kid, these nice ladies want to see you."

"Mama!" cried Grogu.

Din sighed and stroked Grogu's ear. "I know, buddy. But this is another one of those times where I have to help Mama. There are doctors who need me to talk to them, and I need you to be brave, and stay here with M'nka. I think she's very nice. And I think you'll like her."

"Mama," muttered Grogu, and he scowled. Still, he stood up in the bag and allowed Din to pull him out and set him on the exam table. Both M'nka and Siewan squealed and exclaimed how adorable Grogu was, fluffing his hair and tickling him, making the boy laugh. Din noticed however, that their tickling and playing with Grogu was merely a distraction so that they could examine him, scan his vitals, swab his saliva, and get a retinal scan without upsetting him. Within moments, Grogu's biomedical information was downloaded into a pair of wristbands: one for Grogu, one for Din. Din noticed they were yellow, same as Marathel's yellow dress, and his heart stuttered for a moment. Finally, he noticed that M'nka was talking to him. "I'm sorry?"

"I need to get your retinal scan as well," said M'nka.

Din shook his head. "I am unable to do that. I cannot remove my helmet."

"Okay, then, you get to spit in a bag."

"I beg your pardon?"

M'nka held up a small clear bag that contained a fibrous material inside. "Turn and face the wall, we will turn our backs, and spit in here until all of the fiber is moistened."

"You must be pulling my leg."

"Not at all. This is how we will test if it's you requesting access back in here, as you cannot do a retinal scan. You spit in here now. Then you take these fiber cards for access later. When you come back, you will put a fiber card in your mouth until it turns pink. That's when you insert it into the slot under the retinal scanner. If it matches your sample, you will gain access to this space."

Din tilted his helmet and sighed. "Do I need to avoid any food or drink before using the cards?"

M'nka replied, "Red gelatin. Anything red, really. It totally messes up the scanner and it might pop out you're a Sleestak or something. And any sort of alcohol, or recreational drugs. That includes synthetic spice. You cannot gain access if you've been imbibing." She tilted her head to match his. "This is the way we protect your child."

Din nodded, and replied, "This is the way." He gave Grogu another cuddle, pressing his forehead against Grogu's and promising to come get him as soon as Mama was taken care of. Grogu still looked dubious but allowed another childcare worker to take him into the glass-walled room, where Din caught a glimpse of some laughing kids and brightly colored toys through the door. He faced a corner and spit into the bag as best he could after gratefully accepting a cup of water from Siewan.

M'nka thanked Din and turned to process his saliva sample, saying, "Hold up your wristband to the scanner by the door." Din did so, and the glass cleared to allow him to see the large room where many children of different ages were happily involved with activities. Grogu was already at a low table, eating a cookie while scribbling on a large piece of paper with a brown crayon, along with several other small children. "Your son seems to have settled in already."

"Cookies have that effect on him. Just don't give him a lot of fruit."

Back in the lift, Siewan went through the security protocol, and asked, "Is that secure enough for you, chief?"

Din nodded. "It is very good, yes. Thank you."

"Now we can get back to Marathel." Din nodded again, but said nothing. "It's really bad, what's been done to that woman, isn't it?"

"Are you going to contact the authorities?"

"Not yet. I'm sure the shrinks would like a chat with her, but she will be free to leave if she decides to do so when she wakes up."

"What if she … requires surgery, or something?"

Siewan turned her head to look at him. "Legally, you can play your bounty hunter card and claim responsibility for her, make choices for her… even without a fob." Din looked down to his feet. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."


When they got back to the room, the doctors had Marathel's feet in the stirrups. Din turned his back immediately. Marathel was fully draped, but he still felt like a voyeur. He wondered if he should hold her hand. A third doctor had joined the discussion, and one said, "The bacta tank should help with most of her issues."

Din shook his head. "She doesn't respond to bacta."

All the medics sighed deeply. "Well, that changes everything." Siewan asked Brey to contact a couple of specialists. "Think maybe you should have led with that, Mando?"

"I'm sorry," muttered Din. He was distracted, still not quite right in his head, it seemed. Brey and Siewan continued to take notes from both Din and the doctors. Din then had to explain how Marathel had been repeatedly raped, both by males and by foreign objects, briefly describing the Dilimgau. There was a short silence in room after that, then the doctors — one of whom was apparently a gynecological surgeon — went back to their examination.

The gyno doc asked for a speculum and Din wracked his brain to remember what one of those was, and then he heard her say, "All this … scar tissue. Do we have a child's speculum in here?" Din suddenly realized what they doing, guessing what a speculum was, and then he had to stop breathing for a moment when it finally got through to him that a trauma center needed such a device that was small enough for a child, and Din thought he might lose it altogether, and then he heard Marathel whimper.

Whirling around, he did his best to focus on her face as he went to her side and touched her shoulder. "Marathel?" he whispered.

One of the doctors replied, "She's all right, Mando, we have given her some tranquilizers and lightly sedated her. She woke up briefly when we began the IV and a synth-blood transfusion. Despite her injuries, she is still quite strong and fighting hard. Even without bacta, she should recover just fine. We do think she should have a D to help her acute menstrual issues, though."

"And that is …?"

"Dilation and curettage. It's a surgical procedure where I will open her cervix and remove the uterine lining, along with all these clots she's experiencing. Do you have any knowledge of when her last cycle was, before this one?"

Din shook his head. "All she told me was that her cycle was 'seldom and strange', to use her words. And she recently found out that she is sterile, but knows no details."

"Recently found out …?"

Din rolled his eyes, annoyed with himself for getting too specific again. "She received some medical care recently, but I am not aware of what was done for her at that time." That, at least, was the partial truth.

Siewan narrowed her eyes. "What was the time span between her first set of injuries and her most recent injuries?"

"… three weeks or so."

"Care to explain that?"

"If I don't, will that affect your level of care for her?"

"No," replied Siewan.

"Then … no, I don't care to explain that." He took a breath. "This D … is this a permanent procedure?"

The gynecologist replied, "No. It is strictly for her current condition. It will also allow us to assess her state of healing. From what I can tell, the care she's already received was strictly for repair but not reconstruction. Were you aware of that?"

Din's stomach turned over. "Yes, that was her decision." He felt their stares on his back. "I … want her to make those decisions for herself. Please do what needs to be done for her so that she can do that."

Siewan watched him watching Marathel's face. She looked at his hand on her shoulder, and wondered if he realized he was gently stroking her skin with his gloved thumb. Wondered just how complicated his feelings were. Wondered if this Mandalorian was simply making things more complicated than they needed to be. She quietly scoffed. Mandalorians are just as dopey as any other man in the galaxy. What a bunch of derping nerfherders. She said, "Hey, Mando?"

He shook himself out of his reverie and turned to Siewan, who was holding out a holopad to him. "… what?"

"You need to put your mark on this, so they can take her to surgery."

Din looked to the rest of the medics, standing around Marathel's feet, which were out of the stirrups and lying flat. He looked at the holopad and saw the line he was meant to sign. Under the line it simply said Mandalorian and his guild serial number, protecting his anonymity as a bounty hunter. He touched his gloved finger to the screen, but the connective fiber in his fingertip didn't register on the screen, for whatever reason. He paused, knowing he'd have to remove his glove before all these people.

"You need to let them take her up, Mando. You have to sign for her, since she can't. You said you were responsible for her," said Siewan in a firm tone.

Din gulped and reminded himself that Marathel's needs were more important than his Creed — once again. Perhaps always flashed briefly though his mind, so quickly he didn't quite register it. He pulled off his glove, exposing his hand to the medics as he scrawled a mark across the screen. Siewan handed off the holopad to Brey, and the group of medics pushed Marathel out of the room and away.

Siewan reached out and patted his arm. "They're going to do their best by her."

Din nodded, pulling on his glove and trying to shake off the shame and conflict he felt. "How long does this procedure take?"

"Couple of hours. They need to fully sedate her, then however long they need to go the job, then recovery. They're going to put her on my ward when she's done. In the meantime, let's take you back up to your boy, spend some time with him. I just got a page that he's tried to eat the room Derbit Lizard three times."

"I told you he goes for critters when he's hungry."

"Yeah, you mentioned fish, frogs, and eggs, metal man. So, let's grab some food for both of you and I'll take you back up. They have some private rooms up there; I can put you guys in one so you can eat and wait."

"Thank you for your kindness, Siewan."

Siewan snorted, and led Din back down the hallway. "Kindness, nothing. You're buying me some food, too. I need to crash for a while so I can meet this Marathel of yours when she wakes up, get her situated on my ward."

"I think you'll like her."

Siewan smiled and patted Din's arm again. "I think I already do."