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myownwholewildworld · 8 months ago

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THE WAY TO A GREAT WIDE SOMEWHERE

↪ a the mandalorian x beauty & the beast crossover

main masterlist | read on ao3 | easter eggs pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story. a/n: HAHAHA *manic laugh* HI! this has been a long time coming now. first and foremost, i'll start by saying that this whole brainrot was inspired by this beautiful moodboard by the very talented @almostfoxglove, please go see it because it's the main reason i wrote this fic. i have gone crazy trying to link both worlds so i hope some of you see/understand the easter eggs. feel free to come screech at me if you like it because i have been screaming into the abyss for weeks now. love you all, take care! <3 x warnings/tags (beware spoilers): 18+, mdni. set after the events of S2. grogu is BRIEFLY mentioned. if you're a SW purist, this ain't your fic, my friend. the stockholm syndrome is stockholming. beast!din. a fair bit of smut (you know all the usual warnings). sensory deprivation. kinda dom!din. monster fucking (this is a BATB crossover after all, sorry). death of a secondary character. reader is a blank slate. alternating pov. no use of y/n. italics means it's spoken in mando'a OR it's the beast's pov 👀 THIS IS THE WAY. w/c: ~24.3k. (HAHA SORRY) divider by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end 💖

11 ABY

“Take it with you. Don’t let anyone hav―” your father choked on his last words, a chesty cough wreaking havoc in his damp, bloody lungs. “It’ll take you to where you need to go. Find it. And destroy it,” he muttered as his grey eyes, crowned by bushy, white brows, bore into yours.

In your hands you held the device that had been passed down every generation in your family. It had been commissioned by Tarre Vizsla himself over a thousand years ago when he created the Darksaber ― a Pillio star compass to find not a physical location but his most valuable possession. For almost a millennium, your family had been the guardians of it.

And for as many centuries, your Jedi ancestors had been looking for the Darksaber after they had stolen the star compass from Vizsla. That Jedi blood was far too diluted now, just a remnant of what your family once was since none of you seemed to be Force sensitive. But the mission remained despite the passing of time, not so much the reason behind it.

Since your birth, this was all you knew: the thrill of the chase. Never settling down anywhere, never creating bonds with anyone outside of your tribe. You all were wanderers ― nomads who made home of no world. You knew no other life. It was what it was.

The Jedi star compass fit perfectly on the palm of your hand ― it was circular and slightly bigger than a locket. This one though was different, special even, because it was made of beskar, a metal alloy from Mandalore.

Your fingers caressed the lid, tracing the astromeridian lines with the tips, feeling each groove. Undoing the aurodium clasp, you opened the compass to find a plasma-encased supraluminite lodestone, perfectly centred. The plasma in this specific one, however, was not of a shimmering blue, but a deep, stagnant black. Its magnetism was so strong it buzzed, emitting a low vibrating noise.

You tapped the stone with your thumb, and the vibration pierced through your flesh and bone, travelling up your forearm and dissipating into your body before it reached your chest. You quickly removed your thumb, taken aback by the intensity of it all, eyes slightly widened.

“But father, you heard them. It’s already been destroyed. It’s over,” you whispered, tears trespassing the waterline of your tired eyes.

“They lie. Never trust one of them. Those power-thirsty ra―,” he coughed, pressing the wound that stained his clothing to stop the bleeding. You covered his hand with one of yours, the other still holding the compass. “I know we were close, we had to be. Promise me you’ll keep looking.”

“I promise, father,” you hushed, repressing the sob that threatened to tear your throat.

You laced your hand with his, unbothered by the blood, as you watched his eyes become dull, opaque and dead. His lungs exhaled the last breath while the grip of his hand on yours loosened.

You remained there for a few minutes, pain and grief gnawing at you, knelt by his deathbed, tinkering with the Pillio star compass. With your mother taken from you at childbirth and now your father perishing to an enemy, you had no blood relatives left. You were alone, stripped from the comfort of family.

You still had your tribe, but your connection to them was circumstantial. You grew up in their midst, but always felt like an outsider, a misfit who people felt forced to interact with because you were “the daughter of.”

It didn’t matter anyway.

You might not have known why your family kept on looking for the Darksaber, but now you knew why you had to search for it. It was your father’s last wish and that was enough reason for you.

“We must go,” Ashton’s voice reached your ears, but not your brain.

When you didn’t respond, he slowly approached you, kneeling by your side.

“Hey, I know this is hard, but we are really running out of time,” his firm arm wrapped around your waist to help you stand up.

Your knees trembled like a newborn qartuum but managed to stay upright on the soles of your feet. Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

“We need to leave Nevarro. It’s just a matter of time until our covert is discovered. They’ll come looking for him,” your head tilted in your father’s direction, voice flat and emotionless now. Stretching your back, you put distance between you and Ashton. “You find somewhere safe in the Outer Rim to lay low for a while. I need to see this done once and for all.”

“This what, exactly? You heard the same thing I did. Gideon crushed it. It’s over. We can finally live our own lives, find a home, settle down,” he muttered, a gloved hand looking for yours yet not finding it. He sounded so hopeful.

“I know what we heard. But my father… he thinks― thought it may be a ruse. I have to try, Ash. I can’t just leave this life behind, as if everything I’ve done has meant absolutely nothing,” you replied between gritted teeth, frustrated.

“Don’t waste any more years of your life on a wild goose chase, please. Let’s go back to the others. We can―” his hand finally found yours, lacing your fingers.

You looked down at your intertwined hands. It just felt odd, out of place even. Ashton was nothing more than a brother in arms to you.

You shook your head no, pulling your hand from his, breaking the contact, and looked at him directly in the eyes.

“No, Ash. There’s no “we” here. You do what you must, and so will I, simple as,” you rejected the unspoken offer, seeing the hurt consuming his blue eyes.

“What makes you think you can do this alone? Thousands of people have tried for centuries,” he quickly tried a different tactic, but his reproach unfazed you. “Let me come with you at least.”

“No. Our people need you to lead them into this new lifestyle, Ashton,” you refused, not even giving his proposal a second thought. “And you just made it clear, this is not the life you want, but it’s the one I do. Now go.”

Ashton pressed his lips together in frustration, gobsmacked by your bluntness. He’ll be fine, he’ll recover, you thought to yourself when you saw the pain of your rejection finally dawning on him.

“Have it your way then,” and with that, he left.

The compass weighed heavy on your hand and in your heart. But you couldn’t afford distractions nor being delayed by people. Not this time.

19 ABY

Weeks turned into months. And months into years. Eight, to be exact.

The passage of time was unfaltering, but so was your determination. Despite the many dead ends, the several disappointments and the near misses, you never stopped looking for the Darksaber.

There were days, however, that it all felt like an impossible task, that you truly believed that Moff Gideon had destroyed it. You couldn’t accept it though, not when you had spent eight more years hunting it down. It still had to exist. Right?

It was hard keeping the spirits up with no company to hear you vent your frustration. You had started talking out loud to yourself, your voice bouncing off the metal walls of your spacecraft.

Some days you regretted rejecting Ashton’s offer. The man had been nothing but kind to you, loyal too. You had your suspicions about his true intentions, but you never really saw him as anything more than a friend. You hoped that after all this time, he would have found someone who reciprocated him. Ash was a good man and deserved better than what you could have offered him. What you both wanted were two completely different things, incompatible ― he wanted a quiet life, you had preferred an adventurous one.

Given the same option today, however, you were not so sure of what you would have chosen.

Toying with the star compass, you looked through the windshield of the cockpit. Jumping through hyperspace at the speed of light always put you at ease ― the flashing of light as you passed through it left a rainbow of blue hues. The static noise was so calming, you relaxed into your seat.

Your attention returned to the device on your hand. Opening it again, you eagerly watched the metal semicircle twinkle, reflecting off the colours from the Hydian Way. It had not moved for a while, so you had set the course in the direction it pointed towards.

Unsure of the way it was taking you to, you had learnt to just let it take you where it pleased. Like a bantha following its herd on the vast, arid lands of Tatooine, your life for the past eight years had been reduced to following the hands of the star compass, and nothing else. And now, like every single time before, you would wind up in the middle of the great wide somewhere. Or nowhere.

Even if your eyes hadn’t been lazily transfixed on the lodestone, you could not have missed the louder buzzing it was emitting. You rapidly sat up on your seat, your thumb hovering over the stone while your heart jolted up to your throat. As the humming increased, the black plasma inside swirled and radiated a white, shimmering glow.

Only once had you seen it do something like that before, right before finding out that the Darksaber was supposedly destroyed by Gideon. You thought yourself so close to your objective in a stroke of sheer luck, you all had rushed towards the direction it marked and found absolutely nothing.

With blood drumming in your eardrums and heartrate spiking, you faced the panel of your starfighter and touched a few buttons in a trained dance of movements. Then you pulled a lever, and a sudden jerking motion stopped the spaceship on its tracks, easing out of hyperspace.

Back flattened against the back of your padded seat, you squinted your eyes to see where you were. It took you a good moment to recognise the worlds in front of you. But that couldn’t be, made no sense at all. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at the scope in front of you.

No, you were not mistaken. That was Mandalore and one of its moons, Concordia. The compass was vibrating so loud now, you had to close the lid to contain it. Did a double take on the scope, then back out to space.

You knew the story of what had happened here fifteen years ago ― Mandalore had become uninhabitable after the Night of the Thousand Tears. The Empire had made sure of it by brute force and unfair use of fusion bombs and rays, which reportedly left the surface of the planet crystallised and its atmosphere poisoned. No one who had ventured had ever returned, or so the legend went.

The compass hummed louder, still pressed between your hands, as if compelling you to decide, and to do it now. It couldn’t be that the Darksaber had found its way back to its homeworld. It completely defied common sense, the laws of space itself.

Concordia, on the other hand, was more promising, you thought. The best choice out of the worst possible options. Safest too. Probably.

Setting course towards the moon, the spacecraft slowly trudged forward. A loud sputtering sound coming from the thrusters almost made you jump, quickly followed by the incessant beeping sound of an alarm.

“Thrusters stabilizers compromised. Negative power couplers overheating,” the robotic, monotonous voice advised you.

Then your astromech droid, a yellow trimmed R3-D3 unit, started screeching so loud through your headset, you had to remove them.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, taking complete manual control of the helm.

If the couplers didn’t cool down, you only had minutes until these completely overheated, causing an explosion.

Weighing your options, you let go of an expletive. Mandalore was closer, but you feared that the moment you entered its atmosphere, your starfighter, and you inside it, would combust to death. Concordia was further, which meant the possibility of exploding before reaching it was very high.

You were fucked either way. Both were evils, none the lesser.

“Alor (boss), something has entered the atmosphere,” Nau’ul, his protocol droid, announced in perfect Mando’a, with a metal finger pointing out the window.

Din’s brows knitted together, not that anyone could see with his helmet on. His attention drifted to the direction Nau’ul was indicating. The wrinkles between his eyes pronounced as his head tilted.

A small spaceship had breached the atmosphere of Mand’alor, appearing through the greyish clouds with a burning tail following it as it rapidly plummeted towards the surface, leaving a smoky halo behind.

With muscles tensed, Din got up from the chair and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to catch a better glimpse of the type of aircraft that dared to break his peace.

It couldn’t be the New Republic, and he hoped to hell it wasn’t an Imperial ship either. Everyone thought Mand’alor was a thing of the past, a barren planet harbouring no life.

He had thought so too before finding himself adrift in space, injured within inches of his own death. Crippled as he was, his Razor Crest survived the bumpy ride and even bumpier landing, all thanks to the droids aboard. The same droids that had managed to nurse him back to health. Or, close to, anyway.

Through the visor of his damaged helmet, Din eagerly saw the spaceship disappear between the dense foliage and slab stones, nearby the Mines. He waited and hoped to see a column of dense smoke towering above the vegetation, but that vision never materialised. There had been no crash, at least not a major one. Which meant that, whoever was commandeering the ship, had probably survived.

“Fuck. Where’s Mrs. Kri’gee?” he turned around to face Nau’ul.

The protocol droid lifted his arms above his head, running towards the door, panicking.

“Mrs. Kri’gee! Mrs. Kri’gee! Where are you? You’re urgently needed! Report immediately!” the high pitch tone of his robotic voice almost pierced his eardrum.

Din stuck a gloved fingertip in his ear canal and wiggled it to ease the pressure building up in there. Nau’ul was too dramatic and too loud for being a mere droid.

He had not even turned the corner into the main hallway of his decrepit abode, that Mrs. Kri’gee appeared in front of them. Nau’ul got the jumpscare of his life, one of his hands landing on the metal breast piece where a heart should be had he been truly human.

“Mrs. Kri’gee reporting, jatne vod (sir),” replied the IG-series assassin droid, one of her hands flying to her temple to salute him. “How can I be of service?”

“We seem to have visitors. Follow me, gedet’ye (please),” and with no further ado, Din walked almost blindly through the maze of corridors, then down the lift, until the cold breeze greeted him.

The temperature outside was almost freezing, especially in winter. This winter was chillier than usual too, so Din and his droids only came out when it was strictly necessary. Even after all this time, it still surprised him how glacial it was out there. With not even a tiny patch of skin uncovered, Din could still feel the biting cold clinging onto his beskar armour, seeping in through the smallest nook it could find. It could clutch around the bones easily, freezing you in place in a matter of minutes.

Not that he could tell the difference anyway, considering how fucking cold he felt under his skin. How icy it was inside of him, a never-ending snowstorm waging war on his numb heart.

Perhaps he shouldn’t hurry ― if he slowed down enough, and with a bit of luck, the unwanted guests might perish to the unforgiving cold of wintery Mand’alor.

With Mrs. Kri’gee on his heels, Din moved through the terrain as if he was one with it. After many years, he knew the topography as if it was the palm of his hand. Where he could step and where he couldn’t. What paths to avoid at specific times, and which ones were safe to hike, always mindful of the creatures who had withstood the Great Purge.

He might not have many things, but free time was definitely one of them, which allowed him to explore this world he had called home for the last eight years. There weren’t many pastimes in Mand’alor when he was the only human inhabiting it. Maybe that was why he had renamed the droids with more human-like names, to feel less lonely ― only if he could truly feel something.

The emptiness within him had only grown with every passing year on the planet. The curse that ran through his veins had slowly overtaken him, leaving an ever-growing void in his chest. Din could not remember the last time he felt anything ― joy, contempt, happiness, anger, hope, despair. Nothing.

He was an empty carcass, a non-sentient monster merely existing. Sometimes he wondered what the point of it all was, not because of an emotional response but because of pure boredom. But then his eyes would fall on the source of his misfortune, a brutal reminder of how he came to be where he stood, and the lingering questions would vanish. This was the way, his way.

And if that wasn’t enough, he also had to deal with the other side of the coin.

Din trudged along the faded path, now overridden by vegetation, to the Mines. His magnetised boots helped him find his footing more than once, sharp and loose rocks making it difficult to remain vertical. Mrs. Kri’gee, on the other hand, had no issues whatsoever.

Fifteen minutes later, they reached their destination near the Mines, close to a cliff. The lush bushes and thick trees blocked the sight at first, but Din found the perfect spot to stalk the unwelcomed visitors. Down on his knees and through a gap between the leaves, he made out the shape of a T-65B X-wing starfighter ― a pretty old one, at least twenty years old. It could have well served during the Galactic Civil War.

The starfighter could only carry the pilot and an astromech droid, which meant he only had to deal with one sentient being. Could have been worse, Din thought. The prospect of being found didn’t sit well with him though, unsure of why this person had found themselves stranded in Mand’alor, out of all the fucking planets in the Outer Rim.

The Mandalorian tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the person on the other side of the ship ― they were sat on a flat rock with their back towards him, knees propped up, elbows placed on them and crouched forwards. Din stuck his head out just enough to look over their shoulder, good eye squinting ― there was an astromech droid lying in front of them. By the looks of it, it had been fried to death, still sparkling and smoking a little.

Mrs. Kri’gee laid low behind him, still but ready to accept a command. Din waved a couple of signs to the IG-series assassin droid, and it moved silently, gracefully as a loth-cat, to reposition itself northwards, facing the target.

The Mandalorian kept his fist closed, indicating Mrs. Kri’gee to wait, when he saw the person standing up, removing their helmet and taking in a deep, exaggerated breath. It was the side profile of a woman in a bright orange spacesuit, human as far as he could tell. Din’s eyebrows furrowed under the visor, confused as to what could possibly have guided her to this inhospitable planet.

Perhaps he had been alone for too long, only the droids keeping him company for almost a decade, but the sight of you unsettled him. Had he been able to feel something, he was sure an uncomfortable weight would have grounded his stomach.

Kaysh cuyi mesh’la (she is beautiful), he thought ― a simple, objective observation a man could make with only half a vision.

Your hair shined even when the sky was gloomy; your big, bright eyes sparked with frustration; your plump lips fell into a flat line before smacking them with disapproval at your wasted andromech droid. Your fingers curled into your hips while one of your feet tapped the crystallised ground underneath nervously.

“Well, I’m not dead yet, so I guess the air is breathable,” you talked to yourself out loud, sounding almost disappointed. “Stinks like a swamp though, ugh.”

That was a good observation from your part. Stupid, but good. What was your plan if it wasn’t? Suffocating to death? Bit reckless if you asked him. And yes, the sulfuric smell coming off a bog nearby was not great, but there were worse places in Mand’alor to find yourself in. He knew damn well.

He eyed you for a little longer, Mrs. Kri’gee lying in wait. He didn’t need to kill you yet, first he needed to find out why you were here and if you were part of a larger group ― if there was a remote possibility of someone looking for you, he had to know.

Din signalled to Mrs. Kri’gee to come out of hiding but to not attack yet. And so she did promptly. The droid walked out in front of you, startling you so bad you almost fell backwards.

“Identify yourself,” his droid asked you.

You snorted, hand slowly moving backwards towards the blaster pistol in your holster.

“You identify yourself, you little piece of― metal,” you bit your tongue back.

“Nicknamed Mrs. Kri’gee by my Alor. IG-11 assassin droid. Serial Number 730X21G. Manufactured by Holowan Mechanicals in 1 ABY. First assigned to―”

“Alright, alright. Whatever,” you scoffed, fingers curling around the grip of your gun. “What is a droid like you doing here anyway?”

While you were distracted chatting to Mrs. Kri’gee, Din had come out of his hiding place, heavy boulder on hand. Stealthy as a predator, he raised his arm above your head and smashed the rock against your skull with no hesitation at all.

You plummeted to the ground instantly, rendered unconscious in a split second. Towering above you, Din walked around your body and crouched down in front of you. His gloved fingers moved a few strands of silky hair out of the way, following the tiny stream of blood dripping down your temple. The wound wasn’t too bad ― he was sure you’d survive the blow.

“Pick her up,” he commanded the droid, who willingly complied.

In a matter of seconds, Mrs. Kri’gee was carrying you over the shoulder, as if you were a light sack full of gloomroots.

What a banging headache. You were barely able to string two thoughts together.

Eyelids heavy, you did your best to open your eyes. It took you a couple of attempts, but you finally got there. Vision still burry, your pupils widened to adapt to the darkness surrounding you.

The room you were in was all rough, square edges. It reminded you od the inside of a spacecraft with all those panels on the walls. Here though, the cables were hanging out of the electrical panels, snapped and peeled. The scarce futuristic, metal furniture dotted around was broken and upside down everywhere ― the whole space was derelict, abandoned.

It has to be, because this is Mandalore, you suddenly remembered where you were before you lost consciousness. And how did you faint, anyway? How did you get here? Was it the freaking droid?

With a pitiful groan, you tried to reach the back of your head, where the pain was radiating from. To your dismay, your hand didn’t budge one inch. Confused, you looked down and around you, only to find a sturdy syntherope tethering you to the chair you were sitting on.

“What the varp!” You exclaimed, fighting the fetters to no avail.

You rubbed your hands together in the hopes to loosen the grip and slide one hand out, but whoever bound you, had tightened the rope really well. Did that stop you though? No, not one bit. You tried and tried and tried until the skin on your wrists was raw.

You were in the middle of attempting to break free when the creaking noise of the door made you still in place, half hoping to see the assassin droid.

Instead, a Mandalorian walked into the room, and you immediately ceased your endeavours. With a droid you could deal, but with a sentient being… and even worse, a Mandalorian out of all the fucking possibilities.

By the shape of his armour and predatory gait, you could tell he was a man, around five feet twelve. He wore a black body stocking covered by different metal pieces ― vambraces, shoulder pauldrons, breastplate, thigh and shin guards, and kneepads were all made of unaltered beskar. The shiny patina indicated that the alloy had been polished but not painted, as most Mandalorians would have them.

But what struck you as odd was his helmet. Manufactured with the same polished beskar, a black visor protecting his eyesight, you noticed the big crack that ran diagonally from the bottom left, all the way to his right temple. The transparisteel of the visor had also been damaged. It all had been welded back together, albeit by a novice hand.

You stiffened your back as he approached without exchanging one word. Your gaze followed his every movement, wary of the man in front of you. Your tribe instilled on all its members a gut-churning hatred for Mandalorians, although such strong feeling never really deepened within you.

Always mouthing your curiosity, your constant questions as a child were never well received by your tutors. Even your father had a hard time convincing you to hate someone irrationally. It just wasn’t in your nature to hate for the sake of it.

However, the Mandalorian in front of you… well, that was a slightly different story. The bastard had kidnapped you and had the guts to stop in front of you, arms folded, and head tilted. As if you just happened to be there, disturbing his peace.

“Release me now,” you demanded, narrowing your eyes as you leaned forward on your chair. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

A stony silence ensued, leaving you wondering if he was mute.

“Why are you here?” His voice was distorted by the speech scrambler integrated in his helmet.

Repressing a taunting jeer, you stared him right in his eyes ― where you assumed they were, anyway. When he didn’t respond, your eyebrows scowled.

“Are you, like, for real, man?” You couldn’t hide your incredulity. “It’s obvious I don’t want to be here. I didn’t mean to land on this forsaken planet. For all I knew I was about to die, I thought it was uninhabitable! I actually meant to go to Condordia―”

“Why would you go to Concordia? You’re not Mandalorian. Obviously,” he interrupted you, his hand waving up and down in front of you almost scornfully, pointing out your plain clothing.

“I― Well, that’s none of your business, actually. Look― Sorry, what’s your name? I didn’t catch it before you kidnapped me,” you asked with a pinch of rancour tarnishing your voice.

“I haven’t kidnapped you,” he quickly replied defensively. “Just Mando.”

“Okay, Just Mando. Look, you let me go and we both can pretend none of this ever happened. I go on my merry way and you― well, you stay here, doing whatever it is you do,” coming to think of it, you also had questions. You cocked your head, “What are you doing here anyway? When did Mandalore’s atmosphere become breathable again? I thought the planet was completely ruined after the Great Purge.”

“For considering yourself a hostage, you sure ask too many questions. And it’s none of your business, actually,” he snapped back throwing your own words at you with a snarky edge to his voice. “You and the whole universe think Mand’alor is unliveable, and it will remain like that for as long as I live, at least,” his tone turned sombre. “You ain’t going anywhere, I’m afraid.”

His last words shocked you. What did he mean you were not going anywhere? Of course you were. You couldn’t stay here; you had a mission to complete. And Just Mando didn’t seem to be the best company either, the man was so dispassionate you were sure he had a pole up his ass.

“Wait, wait, hold on one varping second. Let’s not rush into making stupid decisions, shall we? I get it, you want to be left alone for all eternity, don’t want anyone to disturb you. I won’t tell a soul you’re here, I give you my word,” you stumbled over your words, panicking at the perspective of not leaving this planet. “Please, I can’t― There are people looking for me,” you lied.

You had not been in touch with your tribe for weeks now. And by tribe, you meant Ash. He was the only one you had been communicating with over the last eight years. Life had been hectic, and you were never the best at keeping in touch.

“Then I’ll kill them if they come looking,” he shrugged, matter-of-factly.

“Wow, okay. Calm down. No need to threaten my people,” you tried to diffuse the situation, although Just Mando seemed pretty calm.

“And just so you know, I’ve just come back from where you landed. I’ve destroyed your engine and the navigation console, so you ain’t going nowhere,” he unfolded his arms, lacing his gloved fingers on his back, quite the measured gesture.

You glanced up at him incredulous, mouth agape while your lungs emptied. You were stranded here, forever, with him. The magnitude of his words had still not dawned on you, when a faster thought made its way through to the surface.

The star compass. Had he found it? Had he destroyed it too? Not that it would be useful here, but it was the last memento you had of your late father. Not that you could ask, anyway.

“Why… why would you do that?” Your trembling voice almost gave way to desperation as you leaned back against the chair.

You blinked fast to tame your feelings, all bravado leaving your body soft and boneless. For once you were speechless, your eyes searching for his under the damaged visor. But you only saw your reflection on the transparisteel, his pose not budging at all.

“Please, Mando. Tell me you’re lying. Tell me my X-wing was not the only way out of this forlorn planet?” You begged, a dense knot forming in your throat, collapsing your airway.

“It is. It was,” he corrected himself. “I can’t let you leave. I don’t trust you nor your word. This way, I make sure you have no other option than staying here for as long as you live. Death is the only way out of here.”

You deflated on the chair, looking at him in disbelief, almost unable to breathe. Although his voice was warped by the modulator, there was no emotion in it. He spoke as if talking about the damn weather, not like he had just clipped your wings forever ― literally.

“I― What… Why are you behaving like a fucking monster? Don’t you have feelings?” There was no edge to your question, you were past subtleties now.

He shrugged again, unbothered.

“‘Cause I am. And I don’t,” was his cryptic answer before turning on his heels and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The door slammed behind him a bit too forcefully for his liking ― a reminder that he would need to ask Ca’nara to grease the hinges. Din then put the latch down to ensure the door could not be opened from the inside.

Without another thought in his mind, he turned around and almost crashed into Nau’ul.

“Master?” asked the protocol droid, dubious, one finger lifted in the air to draw his attention.

“What?” he replied, exasperated. Din just wanted a moment alone ― that conversation had burnt the last energy he had reserved for socialising. If it wasn’t because he could harbour no feelings, one could say he was socially drained already.

“Since the girl is going to be with us for quite some time, I was thinking that you might want to offer her a more comfortable room…” Nau’ul suggested.

The damn droid was more human than he was. Din had not even thought about moving you a different place within his derelict fortress. He had made the once royal prison his home, suspended off the ceiling of Sundari’s bio-dome, or what remained of it. A suitable place for a worthy character like him.

Din just stared at him, weighing his words. Did he have to care about the needs of his captive? She’s not my captive, just a… lifelong visitor, he quickly corrected himself.

“Then again, maybe not,” Nau’ul quickly retracted, dropping his hand to one side, mistaking his silence.

Fuck, I should have thought that, not the droid, he almost reprimanded himself. After so many years in his self-imposed exile, Din had really lost all touch with his humanity. Solitude, along with the curse that plagued his veins, were to blame.

With a grunt, he turned on his heels, unbolted the door and walked right back in, coming to a halt behind you with just a few strides.

“What are you doing?” you asked in a small voice, sniffling.

You had been crying and were now trying to hide it, show him you were unbreakable. He should have felt like a dick but didn’t. Couldn’t, really.

He knelt behind you and removed his vibro-knife from one of his pockets. The blade hummed, vibrating, when it got activated and Din cut you loose, restoring the blood flow to your hands.

“I’ll show you to your room,” was his only explanation to your question.

“My room? But I thought…” the doubt in your words slightly angered him. A fleeting feeling.

Anger? That’s new, he thought, eyebrows momentarily furrowing under the helmet.

“You wanna― you wanna stay here?” he muttered, teeth almost gritting.

“No,” you hushed, wide eyes looking up at him when he walked around the chair to face you.

Unsettling.

“Then follow me.”

Turning on his heels, Din made his way to the door, hoping you would follow. And you did, possibly because you had nowhere else to go.

The royal prison was a cross-shaped structure with several floors. Most of it was completely abandoned, except for the last two levels where he had accommodated himself in this senseless life he lived. The height gave him vantage point, with a good view of the surrounding buildings and further afield.

If it was for him, he would live between wreckage and filth, but his droids had made it their purpose to make the prison somewhat liveable. Not that he cared.

Din looked over his shoulder for one second to see you rub your wrists, eyes focused on the floor. Red lines were imprinted on your skin and for a brief second, he wondered if he had secured the syntherope a bit too tight.

Oh well.

He walked you all the way through a maze of corridors until you reached an elevator which was already waiting to take you up. Din stepped in and then to a side ― it wasn’t too big, but there was enough room for the both of you without having to invade each other’s personal space. You reluctantly followed.

The minutes dragged; the silence heavy although he did not find it unbearable. By the way you fidgeted with your fingers, he knew you did. Despite your discomfort, Mando did not open his mouth ― better getting used to it now, he didn’t want you to think he was the talkative type.

Then a ding announced your arrival to the top floor, and you almost let go of a relieved sigh. Din glanced at you sideways but didn’t catch much of your expression ― you were on his righthand side, and his right eye was completely blind.

The floor was well illuminated, clean and free of debris. It was well looked after, pristine almost. The corridors were empty, giving the whole place a very diaphanous appearance. As you walked by his side, he pointed out a few rooms you might want to make use of.

Arriving at an intersection, Din took the east corridor, ignoring the opposite one deliberately.

“What’s on that corridor?” you asked curiously.

You were too damn perceptive. Too perceptive for your own good.

“The west wing is forbidden,” he grunted abruptly, a growl even, stopping in his tracks to face you. “Forbidden,” he repeated slowly so the words, and the threat in his modulated voice, would sink in.

His reaction took you aback, but he could see you subduing your fear. You would not let him see it ― how scared you really were. You might not want to show it, but he could sense it.

The thought of you sniffing around the west corridor should make him panic, but his reaction was a mechanical one ― once upon a time, he would have cared excessively, worryingly even, if you discovered what he was hiding. Now, however, it wasn’t that he didn’t care but couldn’t.

The reason behind it, the reason why his emotions had become sterile and why a beast lurked beneath his skin, was stashed away in the west wing.

And it was his life mission to prevent anyone from finding it.

When Just Mando opened the door to your new cell, you were pleasantly surprised to discover it was an actual bedroom. The walls were still polished stainless steel slabs, so it wasn’t the coziest place ever, but it had a double bed with fresh linen, a nightstand, a wardrobe, a chest and one single chair. Everything was immaculate white, not one speck of dust in sight. There was another door that you assumed would lead to an ensuite bathroom.

You entered the small room and walked towards the bed. Opened the drawers of the furniture not really hoping for anything, so your eyebrows furrowed when you discovered they were packed full with clothes. Weird, but good.

With a little jump you sat down on the bed, testing its springs and overall comfortability. It was strikingly soft and smooth like a cloud, beckoning you to lie flat on your back and drift away to your dreams. You were not expecting that ― seeing how the rest of this floor was decorated (it wasn’t), you thought there would be one single spartan bed which would be hard as ironstone.

You were even amazed to see a floor-to-ceiling window. An actual, big, massive window that faced the outside world. And there were no metal bars covering it. Incredible, really, that he would trust you with one. Not that you were planning to escape, considering how desolate the planet was ― where could you go? Nowhere.

Looking up, you saw Just Mando leaning against the doorframe, arms folded while his biceps flexed against the fabric of his body stocking. He had been watching you the whole time you were inspecting the room.

Suddenly you felt the weight of his eyes on you and that made you feel skittish. You couldn’t see them, but you knew his sight would be intense, drilling and thrilling. What did he look like under that helmet? Would his expression be as impassible as his tone? Did he really not care at all or was that a façade he could afford because you couldn’t dissect his face?

“So… can I come out of my room? Or are you going to lock it too?” you asked tentatively, hands laced on your lap, challenging him with the soft curve of your raised eyebrow.

“It’ll stay locked until I know you can be trusted with freedom,” he straightened his back, hand on the doorknob.

“You call this freedom? Wow, okay,” you paused, letting that spoken thought sink in. “Is it because I asked about that corridor?”

Just Mando stilled under the doorframe, head cocked. Unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, your teeth massaging the plump pillow underneath.

He didn’t answer.

You had had enough years of silence, the quietness of your cockpit being your only companion. Only broken by the fleeting moments when you met civilisation, you had unintentionally craved that connection. You just hadn’t realised it until you were faced with the possibility of being accompanied by someone for the rest of your life.

Even if that someone was… well, him. Guessed you would have to make do.

“You’ve already condemned me to live here with you, Just Mando, for-fucking-ever. You’ve destroyed my ship, so it’s not like I can go anywhere, can I?” you pleaded with him. “This whole planet is already my personal jail, don’t make it even smaller or I’ll go crazy.”

In your begging, you had gotten up and cut the distance between you. The tips of your shoes bumped into his weathered, leathered boots. He didn’t move, not even one inch ― completely unbothered by your proximity. Your face was so close to his helmet, the steam of your breath almost fogged up the transparisteel of the visor.

And, for a second, he seemed to consider your petition. Or so you had liked to think. You measured each other up, no one giving in or up.

“Until you can be trusted,” Just Mando remarked. The Mandalorian was the first to finally retreat, taking a step back into the hallway. “It’s up to you how long that takes.”

Flabbergasted, you looked at him in disbelief.

And then he shut the door. The click of the lock quickly followed.

Hours had gone by until you heard the door unbolt.

A different droid, an astromech one, greeted you.

“Beep boop, beep!” it happily chirped.

Luckily you knew enough Binary to unsderstand that it said, “dinner is served”.

“I don’t get it. I’ve already had dinner. Don’t need to be here,” Din complained, arms crossed at chest level, manspreading on a chair in the dining room.

“Try to be understanding, sir. The girl has lost her freedom,” Mrs. Kri’gee almost reprimanded him.

“Least you could do is keep her some company, Alor,” Nau’ul chipped in.

Din scoffed, irritated. And such irritation surprised him. He shouldn’t feel anything but a void in his entrails.

Nau’ul picked up on his unusual display of feelings as quick as he did.

“Master… Have you thought that perhaps this girl could help you break the spell?” the protocol droid ventured, almost stammering towards the end when Din snapped his head back to look at him.

If looks could kill, Nau’ul would have dropped dead.

“Fucking nonsense. You heard the witch, the spell she cast,” Din muttered, jaw so clenched it almost hurt him. “Stop looking for solutions and just accept it. After eight years, you should have already giving up your futile hopes.”

“Someone has to keep the spirits up around here. Depressing enough as it is,” the droid retorted.

“If you allow me, Master, Elsbeth’s exact words were, ‘until you find your maker once more’, and that is up to interpretation,” Mrs. Kri’gee added.

Din remembered very well the cursed that Morgan had spitted in his face before he took possession of the Darksaber and sunk it in the witch’s belly.

I condemn you, Din Djarin, to an eternity of loss, Of emptiness, apathy and thorns. At full moons you will be at your worst, With nobody to keep you warm. You shall walk this Galaxy alone, Until you meet your Maker once more.

They still resonated inside his head, clear as the pale ale in the jug in front of him.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow. You’ve been ignoring it for years, but I fear that if you do nothing about it, well…” Nau’ul voiced his worries, hands twisting ― a very human-like gesticulation.

Mando had spaced out, not listening to one word. He only snapped out of his trance when the door creaked, announcing Ca’nara’s and your arrival.

The bags under your eyes were screaming for some rest, which apparently had been evading you. He had given you enough hours alone to get some sleep and freshen up, so why hadn’t you? If you looked so miserable, that was entirely down to you, not him. Of that much he was sure.

Din straightened his back, sitting up properly, while Nau’ul rushed off his feet to serve you the food the droid had prepared. With a flourish of his hand, he presented you with his creation.

“It’s tiingilar, a Mandalorian stew of meat, vegetables and spices. It’s hot, very hot, be careful,” the protocol droid warned you.

From across the table, Din could have sworn he saw your eyes watering, then you blinked a few times, grabbing the spoon.

“Oh my stars, how many spices have you put in here?”

“Oh, you don’t like spicy food?”

“Well, I do, but it smells so spicy, I’m about to cry, phew!” you swept along your waterlines with your index fingers, making a point.

“Alor prefers it this way. I can prepare something else…”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll eat it. Thank you…?” You dragged your words, looking for a name.

“Nau’ul,” he replied. “Anything you need, please ask.”

And then all three droids disappeared from sight, leaving you both alone in the dining room.

You glanced up from your plate, eyeing him above your spoon while you blew on it to cool it down.

“Are you not eating, Just Mando?” you raised an eyebrow, inquiring.

If Nau’ul was still in the room, Din would have snarled at him. Instead, he folded arms again and shook his head no.

“I’ve already eaten,” he explained dully.

He couldn’t―wouldn’t―remove his helmet in your presence, or anyone’s. Not even his droids had seen his face in all the years they had been together. Din had been raised to follow the Mandalorian Creed and even though he was no longer part of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild, he still believed. It was intrinsic to him, to who he was. Or had been. The only thing that kept him true to himself.

“Because you can’t remove your helmet in front of me. Right?”

Din tilted his head in surprise. He did not expect you to know that. Were you acquainted with the Mandalorian culture? And if so, why? You were not one, he could tell. But what were you? Your accent was a mixture of different ones, so he could not pinpoint where you originated from.

“This is the Way,” he found himself saying. It had been a long time since those words last escaped his mouth. “Where are you from?”

“Oh, from here and there, everywhere and nowhere…” Then you took the first spoonful of the stew and started coughing almost instantly. “Fuck, this is spicy,” you whispered, tears in your eyes, as your hand lunged forward to eagerly down the drink.

Din almost smiled at your severe reaction. The corners of his lips began to curl up but quickly dissipated, his own body fighting against such act of rebellion.

“So you’re a nomad?” He asked with certain curiosity in his voice, while he leaned forward to pass you the jug full of ale to top up your drink.

“Yes. I don’t have a homeworld. I don’t even know where I was born, we moved around so much my father didn’t even remember,” you went on almost absentmindedly, pouring the beer in your glass. “What about you, Just Mando?”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘Just Mando’? It’s just Mando,” as soon as he said it out loud, he understood the joke. He pressed his lips together, slightly amused. “I see,” he mumbled.

You laughed as if it was the best joke ever. The warmth in your laughter was vivid, hearty, compelling. Like a melody it filled the air ― suddenly the room was not as bare as before. As cold either.

“So? Were you born here in Mandalore, Mando?” the smirk coiling your lips told him you were teasing him.

Din debated whether to open up or not. Whether to tell you the truth or a lie. But Nau’ul was right, if you were to spend the rest of your lives together, lying was not a good start.

“I was born in Aq Vetina, but was raised in Concordia,” was his succinct answer.

Your eyes unsuccessfully searched for his under the visor. Din could tell you wanted to press him, get more information out of him, but that was as much as he was willing to share today.

“Eat up. It’s going to get cold,” he urged you, wanting to leave so he could be alone.

“So bossy,” you whispered to yourself, rolling your eyes to the back of your head, before attacking the tiingilar.

Nine weeks later

You turned to the next page of the book on your lap, your mind completely captivated by the story of the pages in front of you. Books were scarce in this day and age, but Mando had managed to salvage a few after years of rummaging through the rubble. This one in particular was a storybook for children ― a story about a Mandalorian fighting the Mythosaur down in the Mines.

You were immersed in it, curled up in your bed with a thick duvet and a few pillows around you. Your room was not bare anymore ― you had decorated with a few trinkets you had found in your day trips to the outside world, with Mando as your guide. The fear of the first week had slowly eased, giving way to a new sense of comfort.

Forgotten was your thirst for freedom. With the passage of time, you learnt that Mando was not joking when he first said death was the only way out. And since you didn’t want to die, you slowly had embraced this new way of life. You had made friends with the three droids and had really tried to form sort of friendship with Mando.

The Mandalorian was a tough nut to crack. He was not keen on showing emotion, so much so you even wondered if he was capable of feeling anything. You had noticed that, many a times, he relied on Nau’ul to show him how he should act or react. A droid teaching a human how to be human ― unfathomable. Perhaps all these years alone in Mandalore had taken its toll on him.

And so you liked to think that you were somewhat helping him reconnect with that side of him you thought long gone. By ‘helped’, maybe you meant ‘forced’, but Mando had thrown you in this situation, so now he had to put up with you.

The door to your room opened suddenly, startling you so bad you almost threw the book at Mando.

“One of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack. Don’t you know how to knock?” You screeched, hugging the storybook to your chest and burying yourself under the duvet ― you were only wearing a shirt and your underwear.

“Are you not ready yet?” you had grown used to the exasperation in his voice.

“Ready for what? It’s only half seven in the morning, Mando!”

“You wanted to visit the Living Waters in the Mines and see for yourself if it really is a Mythosaur’s lair, remember? Since you don’t believe a damn word of what I say,” he scowled, still under the doorframe.

“Oh, shit! You’re right!”

How could you have forgotten? You had been insisting for over two weeks now, and only yesterday did he capitulate. You were no Mandalorian, so shouldn’t be in such a sacred place, but you managed to convince him that it would do literally no harm to anyone if you visited.

In your excitement, you jumped out of bed, forgetting you were half naked, and looked for some clothes to put on.

“I’ll… I’ll be waiting in the parlour,” he muttered and disappeared into the hallway.

Ten minutes later, you were outside, on your way to the Civic Center. As you approached this new-to-you, unprobed area, the destruction around you made your stomach churn. The Great Purge and then years of neglect painted a gruesome picture in front of you. Inside was even worse, although you couldn’t see much considering how dark it was.

You followed Mando diligently ― he had been here before, so you trusted his instinct. You stepped where he did and remained silent while you descended into the ground.

After a few more minutes, a humid, warm cave appeared in sight. There were massive pillars holding the crumbling ceiling, and piles of debris everywhere. Stairs led a path to the Living Waters below.

“This is beautiful,” you mumbled in awe, looking around you.

The place was eerie and silent as a tomb. Seeing it with your own eyes, now you could understand why people would believe in the existence of a mythological creature.

There was a plaque on a stone nearby and you got closer to read it. However, the writing was in Mando’a, so you cocked your head to look at Mando.

“What does it say?”

He walked towards you and stopped right behind you. His proximity sent a warning shiver down your spine. You ignored your body’s reaction, focusing on the words you didn’t understand.

“These Mines date back to the Age of the First Mand’Alor. According to ancient folklore, the Mines were once a Mythosaur lair. Mandalore the Great is said to have tamed the mythical beast. It is from these legends that the skull signet was adopted and became the symbol of our planet,” he relayed, his voice ricocheting between the bare walls.

“And you are sure you’ve seen it? Mandalore the Great lived, what, hundreds of years ago? In all that time, you’re telling me, you’ve been the only man to witness the rise of the beast?” One perfect eyebrow raised into your forehead, a smirk curling up your lips, as you taunted him.

Although you couldn’t see, you liked to imagine the frustration distorting his features. Lately you had wondered who the man under the helmet was, but you knew you would never find out. Mando took the Creed very seriously, too seriously.

“I did,” he replied concisely. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me.”

“And what were you doing in the water anyway? It does not look very inviting.”

“I had to redeem myself,” you could tell he hadn’t mean to tell you that, because he nervously adjusted his posture.

“Why?”

You were like a loth-wolf with a bone ― you wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“I had broken the Creed and had to atone for it,” his voice lowered, uncomfortable with the topic.

“How did you break it?”

“Will you ever stop asking so many damn questions?” he growled, evading your probing.

You lifted your hands up in the air in a peaceful gesture, but not without a subtle grin on your mouth. You loved driving him crazy, it was one of the little fun you could have in this place.

“Alright, alright.”

You bent down to grab some flat stones off the ground and practiced your stone skipping skills. That was until Mando’s big hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you mid-throw.

“Stop that, you’re going to awaken the beast,” he snarled, pushing you close to his chest a bit too forcefully.

“Oh, come on. Gimme a break, Mando. There’s no Mythosaur, you must have imagined it.”

“There is and I didn’t,” his grip loosened, and you took the opportunity to throw another stone. “Fucking quit that attitude now,” he warned you, grabbing you by both of your wrists, your hands flush against the beskar breastplate.

Your pelvis was sweetly pressed against his, your thighs touching his. Even with the beskar pieces, you could feel all his edges, his― Shit. His manhood resting just above where slick heat was gathering in your core.

You laughed to release your own tension ― your head snapping back, exposing your neck to his eyes.

“Oh, wow. You’re serious,” you managed to say between laughs, ignoring how close you were to him. Ignoring how wet your pussy was.

“Of course I am. You don’t unders―”

The sound of water abruptly moving forced both of you to look in the direction of the pond. Something enormous had risen, taking up the whole airspace, and water cascaded down its sides.

You froze in place, your mind rushing to come to terms with what you were seeing, as you looked at the gigantic figure towering above you. The water kept falling, so you couldn’t really make the shape of the monster underneath. But in that moment, you knew Mando had not imagined jack shit. The Mythosaur was real. Very real.

Mando pushed you back and put himself between you and the imminent danger. Above his shoulder, you saw horns sticking out and a big pair of eyes staring you down. Its skin was covered in scales and small horns, giving it a very reptilian appearance. The Mythosaur was massive beyond comprehension, and you could not, for the life of you, visualise it being tamed or, worse, ridden.

Time stilled and so did the beast. Its eyes were transfixed on you ― no, on Mando. As if they were measuring each other up, as if they were communicating somehow. Since that was impossible, it was obvious you were imagining things.

Before any of you could react, your heart pounding manically and your breath hitching, the beast went back down below the water level, and a massive wave dashed towards you. Within a matter of seconds, the Mythosaur was gone, and you and Mando were soaked to the bones.

Mando reacted before you did, turning around and forcing you to walk back.

“Let’s go, now! Move!”

In the safety of your bed, after a hot, steamy shower, you let your mind drift back to the moment in time where Mando had held you close to his chest earlier that day. How your body had unwillingly behaved to his closeness, how you ached for him to reach below your hips, right between your thighs…

With a soft moan, you gave in to the desire that had been pooling low in your belly for a while now. Your fingers dipped under your underwear, finding that sweet bundle of nerves in your wet slit. Your index tapped at your clit a few times until you stroked it ― electricity shooting up your spine.

That felt so good, you did it again and again and again, while your brain came up with different scenarios where Mando was giving you hell. With half-lidded eyes and lips parted, you smothered the beating nub with your thumb, two other fingers finding the entrance to your pussy and submerging in your wet heat.

You picked up a relentless pace, imagining they were Mando’s thick fingers, as the first orgasm in a long while started to build up inside you. Your own hand made you whimper, teeth sinking in your bottom lip so hard you almost drew blood. Your back arched involuntarily, stroking your pulsing clit more harshly now, your fingers reaching further in.

The squealing noise of the door opening alarmed you, your orgasm evaporating into thin air. You just about managed to remove your tantalising hand from your panties and throw the duvet above you. Panicking, you looked at the door.

Mando was under the frame, so still you thought he was a statue. You had tried to conceal what you were doing, but the rigidity of his posture told you he had seen enough.

Your cheeks reddened, your face on fire at the realisation of being caught masturbating. By none other than the protagonist of your wet dreams.

“Mando! I told you to fucking KNOCK!” You screamed at him from under the quilt. “You can’t just walk in like that!”

When you didn’t hear the door close ―because you were not expecting an apology from him―, you peeked above the duvet.

The Mandalorian had not moved one inch, and you really feared he had become immobile forever. But the tent on his groin showing through his body stocking told you otherwise.

And then he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. It was the first time he had trespassed the doorframe, you noticed. Butterflies filled your stomach and your lungs as he approached the bed you were lying on, your widened eyes looking for his unsuccessfully ― always unsuccessfully.

Mando didn’t say one word as he removed his gloves, coming to a halt by your side with his shins pressing against the bedframe. When they dropped to the floor, your eyes drifted right up at him, searching for clues, anything that could be crossing his mind.

His naked fingers were the first time you saw his skin, a bit of him. He was real, and he was right in front of you, caressing your cheek. You found yourself closing your eyes and leaning on the palm of his hand ― a tender gesture amidst your unresolved sexual desire.

Mando tilted his head, and you understood. An unspoken petition that you willingly granted. Driven by your lust, you scooted over to the other side of the bed, making room for him, dragging the duvet with you.

“Nuh-uh,” he clicked his tongue as he knelt on the mattress after having kicked his boots.

He yanked the duvet off you, exposing you to him with just your shirt and underwear.

You leaned back against the mountain of pillows and looked at him doe-eyed ― then your sight followed his right hand as it landed on your pubic bone. You pressed your lips into a fine line, swallowing a moan at his touch. His fingertips traced your wet slit over your panties.

“What were you doing, hm?” he husked, his long finger dragging against the garment.

“I, uh… well…” you stammered, unable to look for the words.

“Were you touching yourself?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded.

“Were you close?” a sliver of care transpired through his modulated voice.

“Yes,” you cooed.

“Sorry, mesh’la (beautiful). Let me help you with that,” he offered at the same time his fingers dunked under the waistband of your panties.

You melted into the mattress, audibly moaning, when he stroked you. Your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure his fingers were expertly working on you, sliding through your slit a few times, from your thudding clit to your dripping hole ― your clit hitching between his fingers every time he traced them back up.

He worked your flesh with his bare digits, and after a few minutes, his index and middle fingers went back down to your hot entrance. He tempted you with the tips but didn’t go in ― you were tiptoeing on the precipice of your pleasure.

You whimpered, annoyed.

“Please, Mando―”

“Din. Call me Din, mesh’la,” he hummed, the tip of his finger circling your entrance.

“Please, Din,” you blurted out, eyes flying open and transfixed on his visor, begging.

You let go of a pitiful groan when Din―you liked how his name rolled off your tongue―finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. Two of his thick fingers dove in your seeping pussy, slightly parting your walls in preparation―hopefully, if you were lucky―for his dick.

First slow, then a devilish rhythm his fingers imparted on you. The orgasm quickly built up again, Din’s dexterity beckoning you to climb to the hilltop. And you did, you let yourself feel all the pleasure he was giving you until it was too much, your clit raw and overstimulated by his precise thumb. You reached the top of the mountain and jumped into the abyss underneath. The wave of your climax washed over your, drowning you ― your cunt spasming around his fingers while your knees pressed together.

When you opened your eyes again, all tearful due to immensity of your frenzy, you were relieved to find that Din had released his throbbing erection through the zipper in his body stocking―you didn’t have the patience right now to unclasp all the armour pieces, you needed him now.

The sight of his engorged dick made your mouth water. The girth and the length of it should have made you flinch, but instead it made your pussy wet itself a bit more. It had the perfect size to fill your insides to the brim. Din’s hand moved up and down on his shaft, slowly pumping himself although he was already hard.

You lifted your hand towards his manhood, and he removed his to let you touch him ― for a second you were fascinated by the soft swaying of his cock. Then you wrapped your fingers around it and Mando grumbled, sitting on his heels, manspread for you as a tasty offering. He was a sight to see ― knelt and sat on his heels on the mattress, fully clothed, helmet on, armour hugging his body, and his erection peeking out through the zipper, leaky and throbbing just for you.

Giving him a few pumps, you looked up at him with a smirk. And before he could complain or stop you, you came closer to him and gave the plump head a lick, then sealed your lips around his leaking glans.

The groan that bubbled up his throat spurred you on to bob your head down, taking half of his pulsing length in your mouth.

Din’s hand tugged at your hair abruptly, pulling you off his twitching dick.

You glanced up at him confused.

“I can’t―I don’t think I can take a blowjob without blowing my load, mesh’la. I need to fuck you now,” he was honest with you.

It was understandable. He had been stuck here for at least eight years, which meant that he had not laid with a woman for at least as long. You would have lost your mind too if someone hadn’t touched you in that time.

“Come on then, fuck me, Din,” you mumbled, laying back down on the pile of pillows so your upper body was propped up.

You spread your legs, making room for him. Din swiftly shifted, dragging himself into position.

It was a fucking sight; one you had been dying to see. And he was finally there, all cozy in between your thighs. He parted your legs, resting the back of your knees on his shoulders. He pushed your panties to a side, leaving you completely exposed.

You couldn’t see, but you knew his eyes were focused on the prize―your damp, puffy folds, clit twitching and hole begging.

“Been wanting some pussy for a while now,” he confessed in a grumble, head tilted back when the tip of his veiny cock slipped up and down your damp furrow.

“Here I am, take what you need.”

How altruistic of you.

His mushroom, precum-covered head caught on your slick entrance and Din bucked his hips a little, only the tip smoothly going in. Your heartrate spiked, your walls imploring for the full length of him to clench on. And then, Din thrusted in harshly, pushing his cock in down to the hilt in one smooth jolt. You both howled in unison at the intrusion ― his a deep, guttural moan, yours a high-pitched one.

Mando held onto your knees on his shoulders as he started with the slow sway of his hips impacting on the back of your thighs, building the perfect pace. His dick dragged along the right spot inside you as he jackhammered you into the pillows, another orgasm gathering in your core. Din’s rhythm became frantic, frenzied, to the point where he had to let go of your knees and lean forward, his hands holding onto the rattling headboard.

Mando fucked you hard, drilling you like a man starved. You could feel him stuffing you full, his hard dick disappearing between your swollen, greedy pussy lips. Reaching up, you held onto his arms above you, fingers wrapping around his elbows. Your body rocked up and down on the bed below him with the force of his unrestrained charges.

Your cunt couldn’t take it anymore ― it contracted around his girth, announcing your second climax, which quickly overtook your senses. With stars in your vision, you wailed his name, now fisting the bedsheets as you came, a never-ending wave making your twitch under him uncontrollably.

“Fuck, I… Fuck,” he growled, his hips bucking and stuttering erratically at the sight of your fucked-out expression.

He was close, you knew by the way his dick constantly pulsed inside you ― he just needed a bit of prodding. That was your signal to clench your walls around him, squeezing him as hard and snug as you could, clamping on his thudding cock, never wanting to let him go.

That was his undoing ― you felt Din’s warm, thick spend painting your inner walls, his steely cock convulsing with the last waves of his release.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Din between your legs, his dick still buried inside you as it softened. The inside of his visor was fogged up and you doubted he could see much.

“I didn’t mean to come inside, I was gonna pull out―”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. He didn’t need to worry about that.

His helmet tilted, but whatever question lingered in his mind, he didn’t ask.

His thumb lightly pressed your relaxed clit with gratitude, massaging it softly, before he pulled out and your pussy released his shaft. That gentle stroke ignited your nerve endings, slowly coming back to life. His thumb then went down, gathering the cum your pussy was releasing, and shoved it back inside you.

You bit your bottom lip to stop a needy moan.

“Wanna go again?” you asked, grinning. Offering.

Din laughed. He fucking laughed. You had never heard him laugh before.

“Sure do, but I need a minute, mesh’la.”

Every night for the next two weeks Din found himself stranded in the corridor leading to your room, like a lost, thirsty man looking for water in the harsh desert of Tatooine.

The internal struggle was always the same ― he shouldn’t seek you because, after all, you were his prisoner. You were stuck here with him because he had forced you to, giving you no other choice. Sure, he had not imposed his presence on you―quite the opposite, in fact―but it still seemed wrong to take advantage of you like that.

But then he would see you come out of your room, almost as if you knew he was marooned there, and would approach him with caution. Willingly you would take his hand and lead him to your nest, erasing any doubts he could have about your eagerness. You were as keen as he was ― fucking had become an entertaining pastime. And a calming balm for the beast within.

It was the same dance every night, without failure. And tonight had been no different, except for the hushed “I want you so badly, Din” that had dropped from your parted lips as you rode the last wave of your orgasm, a blissful expression softening your features.

As he stood outside of your door, back towards it, Din wondered what you had truly meant. Was it just a benign slip of tongue or was there something else behind it? He hoped for the first, because he couldn’t afford the second.

Feeling something―anything―was out of the question. Even if he wanted to, didn’t matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t. Elsbeth had cursed him to an eternity of apathy, and it had worked ― over the curse of the last eight years, Din’s feelings had dimmed, diminished and then disappeared, while his inner monster became more powerful, feeding off his emotions like a leech sucking blood out of its host. Mando had tried to feel to keep the beast at bay ― would even make the droids try to anger him in silly competitions, but the dull sense in his chest just grew bigger and bigger, like a tumour rotting his entrails.

Din couldn’t remember what happiness felt like ― he had a barren wasteland for a heart. So cold were his insides, he even thought all his organs were covered in beskar. That was what brought him back to your room every night ― your warmth, how it would seep through the cracks of his skin, warming up a part of him that he thought dead.

Tonight, he had allowed himself to really feel your body against his ― helmet still on of course, you both had been stripped naked for the first time, your skin rubbing his, heating him up. Whether he would admit it or not, he craved you. Yearned for your warmth.

With a shake of his head, his feet finally unglued from your doorstep and sauntered towards the west wing. A single light at the end of the corridor twinkled, snuffing out the moment he stepped below it.

He swung the door open to a room he had not visited in a very long while. Din preferred to pay no mind to the source of his emotional detachment, but Nau’ul’s words had been nagging him for weeks now, an annoying reminder scratching the back of his brain.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow.”

He had to see for himself.

The room should have been dark if it wasn’t for the light the Darksaber’s blade emitted. Din trudged towards the display stand in the middle of the empty space, where the Darksaber rested under a glass case. Two metal, U-shaped pins held the Darksaber upright.

An electrifying, white glow encased the black blade, but it was certainly fainter than what he remembered. Significantly fainter. It had taken him a few years to understand that the Darksaber was the vessel of his curse ― as his feelings dwindled and the beast grew fonder of control, so did the light of the Darksaber. He was not sure though about which one caused the other to wither away.

As he stared at it, Din pondered what would happen the day the light from the Darksaber would flicker away. Morgan had died before he could fully understand the idiosyncrasies of his malediction. At first, the frustration of the unknown had only driven him mad, especially when the full moons would bloom on the night sky, leaving him at the mercy of his curse.

The first time he had transformed, bathed by the white light of Concordia, Din thought he was dying. The burning sensation, the bones breaking and fusing back together, the stretch of his skin, the blood becoming cold in his veins and his mind spiralling out of control… He hadn’t died, but he sure wished he did. Only at dawn was he able to gain back control, so exhausted he just laid on the dirt near the Civic Center for an entire day before finding his way back to the royal prison.

Only with the insight of time did he decide it did not matter. The end was the end, and if that was the way, then he would greet it.

Din sighed, his eyes dry under the helmet. Looking around and knowing himself on his own, he carefully removed his helmet, wincing in agony, and placed it on top of the glass case. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose in an attempt to clear his mind, one hand resting on the glass.

Eyes shut for a long minute, he ended up fluttering them open. His reflection greeted him ― a terrible, gruesome sight, a face he almost didn’t recognise anymore. The scar that ran from the left of his chin diagonally to his right temple had distorted his features ― his chin slightly dented, the left corner of his mouth raggedy, the flesh on his upper left cheek mildly sunken around the scar, his crooked nose even more angular and his split eyebrow giving him a permanent frown. And then his right eye, completely blinded with a white discolouration covering his iris and pupil.

He could still feel the blade of the Darksaber melting his beskar helmet as Morgan pressed it against him. It hadn’t completely cut through the Mandalorian alloy, but the fire filtering through had burnt his skin, leaving an everlasting imprint on his face.

Din remembered the heat, the panic building up and the sizzling sound of his skin as it thawed like ice under the sun. The smell of burnt skill still haunted him sometimes when the helmet became too overwhelming.

The damaged tissue was thick but extremely sensitive ― every time he pulled the helmet off his head, the fabric inside would drag against the scar tissue, making him flinch in pain.

Shaking his head to release his mind from such memories, Din stared at the Darksaber for longer than intended, lost in his train of thought. For the first time in ages, he wanted to know if the curse could ever be broken.

Until you meet your Maker once more.

That had a pretty definite sentence to it. Death was the only way out.

“I didn’t see you last night,” you mumbled, repressing the need to add an ‘again’ to the end of your sentence.

You had noticed that there were certain nights when Mando would vanish, wouldn’t visit you at all. You wouldn’t see him in the morning either and if you asked any of the droids, they were as evasive as their master.

You still didn’t know why and every time you prodded him about it, his answer was…

“Had stuff to take care of.”

You sighed, pressing your lips into a thin line. The idea of slapping him had its appeal.

“Are we still going?” you quickly changed subject, not wanting to be disappointed with him today. “I’ve not really asked you for anything in the three months I’ve been here.”

You watched his gloved fingers drum on the metallic surface, helmet tipped to one side as he considered your words. You wanted to believe that in the time you both had spent together, Din’s undaunted façade had softened a bit. His replies had become less snappy, his posture slightly more relaxed, and his hands way more caring as they canvassed your skin every night.

An invisible force had been towing you towards him, his gravitational pull irresistible. Din Djarin was a challenge to you, a puzzle you had started putting together. He strived so hard to remain indifferent, it was now an exciting game to make him feel. The only downfall? You were falling for him. Perhaps him being the only man to walk this planet had something to do with it, you had no other options. Also, you knew that fucking the brains out of each other every night would eventually lead you here.

Considering that you had a lifetime to spend on this world, letting yourself feel for Mando was something you could afford. And even if he didn’t want to show it, you were positively sure he was not as apathetic towards you as he let on.

“Alright. I don’t see the harm,” he accepted.

You mumbled a “yes!” with a smile crooking your lips as you pushed the chair back to stand up.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

You rushed out of the room to run to yours and change. The winter was receding, but the cold was still bitter and nippy, so you decided to put on appropriate gear. A few minutes later, you darted towards the lift, where Din was already waiting.

Couldn’t help yourself, you had to smile at him, the softness of your grin reaching your eyes.

Din cleared his throat, face facing forwards to avoid your orbs meeting his.

The way down in the elevator was soundless, but you had grown used to his silence treatment. The short journey to the crashing site was as tranquil as the trip down the lift. Mando was truly a man of few words.

When you caught a glimpse of your T-65B X-wing starfighter, you overtook Din and ran towards it in excitement.

“Careful there! The ground is slippery, you’re gonna―”

Before Mando could finish his warning, you recreated what his next words were going to be: you slipped on an icesheet. Waving your arms so you wouldn’t lose your footing, you ended up falling face first. You managed to partially stop the fall with your hands. The rocks underneath slashed your winter trousers, cutting your left shin.

By the time Din had gotten to your side, you had already stood up.

“You okay?” he asked with worry in his voice.

You nodded, smirking at the preoccupation he was showing.

“Yeah,” you lied. If he knew you had hurt yourself, you would be turning around and returning home empty-handed.

“Be more careful, will you? The ship ain’t going nowhere,” he snarled once he knew you were fine.

You rolled your eyes at him before strolling to the aircraft. Your old X-wing had seen better days ― the glass of the cockpit was smashed; vegetation had grown over the body. Moss covered most of it, painting it green instead of white. When you peeked inside the cabin, you realised it was flooded, all electrics wet. It was truly done for ― if you ever had any hope of leaving this planet, it would not be aboard your X-wing.

Din stood watch as you foraged for the item you were here for. After a few minutes, you located the star compass under the seat in the cockpit, drenched. Looking over your shoulder to see where Mando was, you opened the compass and water leaked everywhere. The black lodestone was static, unmoving ― maybe it just needed to dry off. Despite how damaged it was, you hoped it would still work. You were not planning on using it, obviously, but it was a reminder of your old life, one that now seemed very far away.

You couldn’t say you missed your previous life. The constant travelling had taken a toll on you in the last few years, having almost lost sight of searching for the Darksaber. Now that your feet were back down on the ground, gravity keeping you centred, this new life was not so bad after all.

“You found it?”

“Yeah!”

You quickly clasped the lid back down and jumped out of the cockpit. Perhaps you had lied to Din about what you were really looking for, but something in you told you not to tell the truth. So, when he asked you that morning why you wanted to go back to the shipwreck, you simply lied, telling him you were looking for your family’s locket ― a relic that had been passed down for generations.

The object was small enough to pass for one. You waved it at him quickly, not really showing it to him, before you shoved it in one of the pockets in your vest. Luckily Din didn’t ask for it, otherwise he would have realised it was made of beskar.

“Let’s go back then.”

“You’re bleeding,” Din’s fingers grabbed you by the elbow, yanking you back before you crossed the door to your room.

You looked down, having forgotten about the wound on your leg. You shrugged, downplaying it.

“It’s nothing, I’ll just take care of it now.”

“Like hell you are,” he growled with clenched teeth while dragging you inside.

He only let go of your elbow when you were by your unmade bed. Din stopped right in front of you, hands on hips. He nodded to you, commanding you to remove your trousers so he could see.

Your eyes rolled in frustration and clicked your tongue.

“It’s fine, Din. Don’t worry about it,” you dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

“I’ll decide if I have to worry or not.”

And, without prompt, he pulled down your trousers in a swift movement, leaving your legs bare. You huffed but let him help you out of them and remove your boots. Mando signalled you to sit on your bed and so you did. Din knelt in front of you, grabbing your hurt leg by the ankle until your heel was resting on his bent knee.

He inspected the wound for a minute after having removed his gloves. His fingertips burnt your skin where they ghosted over it.

“It’s not too deep, just a scratch.”

“I told you it was nothing. You have some unresolved trust issues, Din,” you joked, slightly leaning back with the heels of your hands flat on the mattress.

You couldn’t see but knew his eyes squinted under the visor.

“I’ll go get something to clean it. Wait here.”

Mando walked out and you took the chance to remove the uncomfortable coat. A minute later, he had returned with a clean rag and a small container with lukewarm water. He knelt in front of you again, grabbing your leg, and dutifully cleaned the wound.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the feathery touch of his fingers on the back of your knee. His proximity was enough to lighten your need for him. Also, being only in your underwear and a shirt while he was knelt between your legs did not help at all. Your imagination was already running wild ― and so your legs parted slightly, almost involuntarily.

Din’s attention shifted from the wound to your core. He tried to hide he was being distracted, but the helmet kept tilting to one side so he could have a better look at where your thighs met.

You chewed on your bottom lip, slick warmth pooling in between your legs.

“Din,” you hushed his name, your hand searching his so he would stop cleaning the wound.

The Mandalorian didn’t need much prodding after that. He towered above you rising to his feet, his hips at your eye level. You knew he was hard already, so couldn’t ignore the call of the siren.

With rigid steps, he walked towards the chest and placed the container dow. He scrunched the rag so the water dripped back into it. Soon enough, he was in front of you again, clean rag on hand.

“Do you trust me, mesh’la?” his modulated voice was low and husky.

You nodded vehemently.

“I want to try something different this time,” he murmured, the rag twisting in his hands. “But you gotta promise me you’ll behave for me.”

“I will,” you promised, breath hitching in anticipation.

“I’m going to blindfold you and remove my helmet. But I have only two ground rules: you can’t take it off and you can’t touch my face. At all. No excuses. Are we clear?”

A rush of lustful excitement ploughed through your veins. You found yourself nodding again, your neck hurting.

“Use your words, cyar’ika (beloved).”

“Yes. Crystal clear, Din,” you mumbled, widened, almost adoring eyes staring at him. You hadn’t missed the endearment term, although he seemed to not have noticed.

“Good,” he curled one finger at you.

You sat back up, hands laced on your lap patiently waiting as Din blindfolded you with the damp rag. He secured it with a very tight knot on the back and made sure three times that it would not go anywhere.

“If you break your promise, I’ll have to kill you,” the threat was very real, not even a hint of joke in it.

Your mouth went dry and your clit irremediably pulsed ― your pussy was already wet and warm for him. You shouldn’t get off on a death threat, but apparently Din could reduce you to a slick mess just like that.

“I-I won’t remove it. You have my word. Please.”

“Be a good girl for me and lay down on your back,” he commanded you and you happily obliged.

Your heartrate spiked as you heard Din discarding the beskar pieces over his body stocking. Maybe you were too eager, but he was taking too damn long. Then a hissing sound told you his helmet was gone.

This was fucking torture. You wanted to see him, to see the face of the man who made you wet with just a few words. It was cruel of him to impose something like this on you, such a prohibition. However, you understood what his Creed entailed and respected it.

Hated yourself right now for respecting it, but you did.

Din placed his hands on the back of your knees and lifted your legs up, the soles of your feet resting on either side of his naked hips. The warm palms of his hands caressed your ankles, massaging them briefly, before travelling up your calves and inner thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Unceremoniously, his fingers curled around the hem of your panties and pulled them down your legs; you couldn’t see but were sure he had thrown them away.

The Mandalorian exhaled audibly the moment his hands landed on your knees and pulled your legs apart. You squirmed, knowing he was devouring you with his eyes.

“Din, please, just―” you whimpered, moany and needy, anticipating.

“Shush. Don’t be so impatient, mesh’la,” he chastised you while stepping back.

That was the first time you listened to his real, manly voice. It was deep and raspy, surly yet sweet.

Your feet, no longer supported on his hips, dropped to the ground.

“Go on your fours,” he talked you through the position he wanted you in as you obeyed. “Now lean down, rest that pretty face of yours on the mattress for me.”

With your perky ass up in the air, you felt very exposed with your inner thighs pressed together and framing your swollen pussy like a pretty picture just for him.

One of his fingers traced your wet slit and you had to stop yourself from wiggling your hips until his finger was partially inside you.

“Look at her, all drippy and puffy for me. She knows what’s coming, doesn’t she? That’s why she’s so fucking wet,” he hummed, shuffling behind you.

You couldn’t see him, but you were damn sure he was on his knees at the feet of the bed.

Din placed his hands on your ass cheeks and parted them, the skin in your sticky furrow stretching while his thumbs caressed your labia. Your cunt was on full display, and you could feel the cold air of the room against your damp, sensitive skin.

“At last, I can claim her as mine,” Din whispered, his hot breath fanning on your pussy now, sending shivers up your spine.

You moaned, finally understanding what was coming.

He didn’t keep you waiting. Din’s tongue lapped your whole pussy in one go and your entire body trembled at the wet touch, his beard prickling your skin. Covering your mouth, you swallowed a pitiful whimper while your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Mando’s broad hands squeezed your ass, grounding you, as he leaned forward again to drink from the fountain of your pleasure.

His tongue dipped in your creamy slit and stroked it slowly, deliberately loitering around your clit, but never really paying it much attention. He kissed your swollen lips, making out with them as if they were your mouth, the tip of nose intimately caressing your perineum. With the help of his fingers, he splayed open your quivering cunt, your hole accessible to the apex of his mischievous tongue.

Din licked you for minutes on end, ignoring your pulsing clit on purpose. The tension inside you coiled almost uncomfortably, so intense it would snap at any given moment. His devilish persuasion was relentless, more so when he would introduce his tongue in your very core.

You bucked your hips against his mouth, grinding. Desperate.

“Din, please, please, here,” you begged, slipping one of your hands down your belly and in between your legs.

You parted your slippery pussy lips, your clit hitching between them, showing him exactly where you wanted his goddamn tongue.

“Here, please,” you insisted, teary-eyed, at the edge of your patience.

“So impatient, mesh’la,” he chuckled behind you, still on your fours for him.

Finally, his lips latched onto your clit, and you whined out loud, pure elation running through your veins at the sweet suckling of his mouth. His teeth grazed the sensitive nub, and you saw stars behind your eyes, head slightly tilted backwards as you mewled until your throat felt raw.

Din sucked on your clit harshly at the same time two of his thick fingers found their way to your oozing hole. You screamed a resounding “fuck” at the perfect intrusion. The combination of his tongue and his digits were more than what your nervous system could take. Lick, pump, lick, pump ― the perfect rhythm making your toes curl, your pussy clench and your clit set ablaze.

The whole pussy-eating-from-the-back situation was too much ― his fingers ever so tantalising, you surrendered. Rubbing your cunt against his mouth, you moaned his name as the best orgasm of your life almost rendered you unconscious. You came on his mouth while Din just sipped from you, drinking all your discharge as if it was the last drops he would ever taste.

You could only hear your heart beating in your eardrums, all your senses overwhelmed. You were so out, you had almost forgotten the rag blindfolding you.

“You’re gonna come again for me, mesh’la,” only then did you realised his fingers were still inside you.

You panted, gathering your thoughts.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumbled, entranced.

“Oh, you can and you will,” he groaned, accepting the challenge.

And with that, his wicked lips pressed against your cunt, and he started all over again. As it turned out, he was fucking right. His tongue and his fingers were working you so well, there was no way you could resist. However, this time, there weren’t two fingers stuffed in your whole, but four. Your walls were so outstretched it should have been painful, but it wasn’t ― he had made sure to get you ready, pliant under his dutiful care.

“I wonder if you could take him. Bet you could,” Din whispered in a moment of respite.

“Huh?”

All thoughts dispersed when the second climax spread across your entire body, leaving you exhausted; a pitiful, sweaty mess on the bedsheets.

“Turn around and lay down. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” the crudeness of his words should have made you frown but instead you smiled, completely blissed out.

Din made good on his promise. On your back and with your legs parted, you heard him moving around until he was between your thighs. Then he leaned forward, his hands on either side of your shoulders to keep his weight off you, and his hard shaft dove inside your cunt with no resistance. When he bottomed out, he snapped his hips back and then forth, until he was rutting into you like a man on death row.

Your hands held onto his back, your nails digging in his skin. You wanted to move them up and sink them in his hair so badly, your palms were itchy with longing. He had said you couldn’t touch his face; he hadn’t said anything about his hair. Hoping he wouldn’t notice your intentions, your hands drifted up his back, arriving at the nape of his neck.

So close to burying your hands in his hair, so fucking close…

“Don’t,” he growled at you, the snapping of his hips against yours unforgiving. “The fucking audacity. I. said. don’t. fucking. touch,” he punctuated every word with deep, sharp thrusts.

You winced and gasped at the depth of his dives, your mouth shaping a perfect O, back arched off the mattress below you. Every stab of his dick kissed your cervix, and you just couldn’t stop moaning uncontrollably. The mild pain quickly blossomed into ecstasy; your skin electrified with pleasure.

Suddenly you felt his mouth ghosting over yours; his unfiltered, gruffy grunts were music to your ears. You reached up, wanting to steal a kiss from him to taste his lips for the first time, but he slithered back.

“You don’t respect boundaries, do you?” Din rumbled.

His voice should have had a tinge of anger, but instead it sounded… amused?

“You have had a taste of me, it’s only fair I get something in return, Din,” you bargained breathlessly, but got no reply. “Please?”

Imploring for a measly kiss from your captor while he kept on fucking you. That had to be a new low in your book.

You couldn’t see him as he jackhammered you into the mattress, but knew he was debating. Whatever inner debate he had, the side you were banking on won.

“You keep your hands on my back at all times. Yes?” One of his hands moved to your neck, his dextrous fingers wrapping around your throat. “Or I’ll―”

“Kill me. I know. Elek, Alor (yes, Master),” you whispered in Mando’a, breath hitching.

His mouth came crashing down on yours, teeth colliding in a very messy kiss. His tongue sought yours with fervour and sucked it into his mouth. He tasted like you.

You couldn’t help but moan in midst of the sloppy kiss, your heart finally content at his small yet meaningful surrender. The grip of his hand around your neck softened but didn’t dissolve, adding another layer of excitement to his unabating thrusts.

“Gar serim, cyar’ika (that’s it, beloved). You’re so good, so fucking good for me. Warm, tight pussy always ready for me when I need her. She never disappoints,” he maundered, your brain spiralling with his praise.

Praising your cunt, not actually you, but you would take anything he would give you.

A few minutes later, the breathy groans of your making out along with the squelching sounds of your lust filled the air, quickly followed by the loud moans announcing your climaxes. Your cunt clamped on Din’s dick―a promise you’d never let him go―and he blew his load inside you. The tackiness of his cum filled your insides as his cock pulsed one last time and his lips pecked yours.

Din dropped to your side, panting with exhaustion, and you just laid there pondering all the decisions that had taken you there.

You’d never let him go.

When the fuck did that happen?

“How long does winter last here?”

“A good part of the year, around six months,” he replied dryly.

He was aware of the fact that you had been trying to get words out of him for the past week. Make conversation, talk about his story, his past, his interests. See if there was any common ground between you. But Din couldn’t bring himself up to actually share personal details.

And every time you tried, and he would dodge your attempts, he would see the disappointment painted across your face. And every time, something unknown would uncomfortably stir within him. He suspected you had started to harbour feelings for him ― and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t reciprocate you. Didn’t want to break your heart.

It was his fault, really, for seeking you out every night. You were so giving and him so greedy, he just mindlessly took what you offered without giving you anything in return except for a few orgasms and a good time.

“What did you do last winter? Bet it was boring being home with just the droids…”

Din knew very well what answer you were expecting: It was. Your presence has been a great improvement. You make my days―and nights―more bearable.

But instead, he shrugged.

“Dunno. Kept myself busy with stuff,” he muttered frugally.

He kept on walking before you, making the way back home after a quick stroll around to breathe some cold, fresh air.

The Mandalorian did not expect to be attacked by a snowball, which hit the back of his helmet. He quickly turned around.

“What the hell are you―?”

Before he could finish his question, you hit him again with another snowball, dead centre on his visor.

“You are such a prick, Din Djarin,” you snapped between gritted teeth, patting another snowball between your gloved hands. “Would it actually kill you to be a bit more open, hm?”

This time he saw the attack coming and was able to duck, avoiding the next snowball.

“Are you mad?”

“Yes, I’m mad, you fucking idiot!” you yelled at him, trudging forwards with another snowball on hand. “I’m mad for you, but either you’re fucking blind or you’re a cold-hearted jerk.”

Little did you know he was actually blind in one eye, but it didn’t seem to be the time to point it out.

The sudden love confession caught him off guard. You were not supposed to say that. You were not supposed to feel that way, not for him.

Din remained calm as you cut the distance and tried to smash the fourth snowball on his covered face. His fingers gripped your wrist before you were able to do so.

“You’re just confused, mesh’la. All the sex is blindsiding you, but you really don’t feel anything for me,” he reasoned.

You looked at him as if he had slapped you and took a step back.

“Of course, because you, the freaking Tin Man with a dead heart, know better than myself how I feel. Un-fucking-believable, honestly. Go fuck yourself, Din,” you scoffed, pushed him to one side and walked past him.

Din saw you disappear through the sliding door, while he stood there in disbelief.

What the fuck had just happened?

You kind of expected Din not to show up at your door tonight, but his absence in your bed stung either way. Sure, you had told him to go fuck himself, but now with a new―horny―perspective, you would prefer if he fucked you instead.

Infuriated with him, yourself and the situation, you sat back up on your empty bed. You reached for the drawer in your nightstand and opened it, grabbing the star compass inside. Fidgeting with the aurodium clasp, you wondered why the fuck Din didn’t open up. After three months and a half with him, you had thought you had been able to break through his armour ― the figurative one, not the real one.

Every time you tried to talk about your relationship with him, Din would shut you out or wouldn’t even engage in the conversation at all. He was more stubborn than a falumpaset, and that was saying something. Despite his indifference, you believed that, deep down in that cold, dead heart of his, he cared for you. Maybe he didn’t love you, but at least cared for you.

You didn’t even know if you loved him, anyway. Infatuated was, most probably, more accurate, you’d like to think. Most days you pushed that thought to the remotest corner of your mind, not wanting to consider it. Because, after all, you were his prisoner ― you might forget it some days, but the reality was that Din Djarin was your captor. So maybe it wasn’t love ― perhaps it was just a survival mechanism. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Amid your pondering, you almost didn’t realise that the hands of the compass had moved, and the lodestone was humming, the plasma inside slowly swirling around. Your heart jolted in your ribcage, almost dropping to your stomach, when you finally paid it attention.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, jumping out of bed.

You had hoped it would work once it fully dried, but you were not expecting it to be actually functioning. It seemed to sense the Force emitted by the Darksaber, but that couldn’t be possible. If the Darksaber was here, in Mandalore, Din would know―would have told you. Right?

No, he wouldn’t have.

With that thought in mind, you put on some more decent clothes and cracked open your door. Carefully, you peeked in the corridor to confirm the coast was clear. It was close to midnight, so you hoped everyone―Din and the droids―would have gone to rest.

Tiptoeing through the hallway, you followed the path the star compass was pointing to, only to find yourself in the west wing after a few minutes. You knew you shouldn’t be here, but the compass hummed louder, vibrating on the palm of your hand, as you turned another corner. Looking up from your family’s relic, you saw a door at the end of the hallway.

“BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEP BOOP! BIP! PIP!” Din’s astromech robot, an old R2-D2 unit, screeched at you loudly, skidding and coming to a halt in front of you. It even had a red light flashing at you.

You almost threw your heart up there and then, the little robot giving you the biggest scare of your life.

“CA’NARA!” you told him off as your heartrate slowed down. “Fucking hell, you almost killed me, little devil.”

“BEEP! PIPIPIPI!” the droid beeped at you, going around you in circles.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, sorry!” you whispered, “I-I’m a sleepwalker!”

Ca’nara seemed to calm down, only for Nau’ul to appear in scene.

Great, fucking great.

“Ca’nara, what’s going on?” the protocol droid turned the corner, almost bumping into you. “Oh! What are you doing here?”

“I- Uhm, I was just telling Ca’nara that I’m a sleepwalker. He literally just woke me up. I didn’t mean― you know I cause no trouble, Nau’ul,” you pleaded with the affable droid.

“Of course, of course,” he took a couple of stiff steps back. “What’s that on your hand?”

Fuck. You looked down, coming up empty with a lie.

“I don’t know. I literally just woke up, I don’t know where I got it from,” you stammered a bit, but the droid didn’t pick up on it.

“I’ll take it. Alor will know what it is and where it belongs,” Nau’ul extended his hand towards you.

If you didn’t give it up, it would arouse suspicion. So, unwillingly, you passed it on to him.

“Where’s he?” the question slipped your tongue before you could refrain.

“Alor is… indisposed, miss. He needs to rest,” he replied cryptically as you both walked back to the main corridor where your bedroom was.

“Indisposed? Is he sick? Is he okay?” you instantly worried.

“He’ll be better in the morning, fret not,” he paused in front of your room, and you opened the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nau’ul,” you mumbled before closing the door behind you.

What a varping disaster. Nau’ul had confiscated your star compass, which meant that Din would eventually see it. If it came to it, you were not sure what you would do. And you still didn’t know what was in that room, why the compass had gone crazy as you approached it. But you had a pretty good idea. Chances were, the Darksaber was on the other side of that door at the end of the west corridor.

Sighing, you sauntered towards the big window in your room. Two perfectly aligned full moons dominated the night sky, their white, sparkly glow bouncing off the walls. It was a beautiful sight.

Something in the path below caught your attention. A metallic reflection. Your eyes drifted down just in time to see Din running towards the Civic Center, as if a thousand ghosts were on his heels.

You frowned, confused. Where was he going at this witchy hour? Wasn’t he sick?

A scary thought formed in your head. Were you under attack? Had Ash come looking for you after several weeks without returning his messages?

Heart pounding with worry, you darted to the door and then the lift. Whatever threat was coming, you would face it with him. With such resolution in mind, you followed his trail.

Your concern for him skyrocketed when you arrived at the Civic Center and saw nothing but pieces of his armour scattered around. You snatched the shin and thigh armour off the steps to the main door, only to look up and find more bits spread around the entryway.

This made no sense at all. Why would Din dispose of his armour? Something was wrong, very wrong, but you were not under attack.

You gathered all the armour pieces in your arms while calling his name but heard nothing except the whistling of wind passing through cracks and crannies.

Suddenly, you felt the need to look down the stairs to the Living Waters. A hunch rooting in your core, wrapping around your heart. Then a faint, painful growl came from underneath and all your senses flared alive.

What was Din doing down there? In the Mythosaur’s lair?

Panic hiked up your throat as you hiked down the stairs, the animalistic snarl louder now as you drew nearer. At the bottom of the steps, eyes fixed on your shoes, you dared to glance up.

His armour fell from your arms on to the ground, clattering. You were not prepared to see what you found.

Din was half curled up on the floor, naked and dragging himself towards the water. Only he was way bigger ― almost seven feet tall, his body much more muscular with chiselled, blueish veins across the whole of him, hands big as paws with his nails digging the dirt underneath.

You took a step forward, catching a better glimpse of him. Then you truly saw ― his skin had a viridescent tint to it and had started to scale. Rugged lumps raised from the skin on his back, tiny bones protruding through. No, not bones ― small horns, like those of a reptile.

Not like a reptile. Like a Mythosaur. Only smaller than the beast you saw a few weeks ago.

With a guttural bellow, he removed his helmet, throwing it to on side as he crawled towards the rippling water. His head was crowned by thick, short, greyish curls ― exactly what you had imagined.

“Din?” you whispered, taking a precautious step towards him, one hand extended in front of you to appease him.

His head snapped around at the sound of your voice.

You gasped at the sight of him. What first struck you was the scar across his face, one that would perfectly line up with the mended crack on his helmet. It ran diagonally through his rugged features, distorting them and hugging that crooked nose. His teeth seemed slightly pointier too. The next thing you noticed were his blown, bloodshot eyes with pupils as big as his sclerae.

Not eyes, one eye ― the right one was completely discoloured, covered in a white sheen.

He still looked like Din, but… not really.

The vision in front of you should have scared you. Even more so when Din stared at you, and you saw nothing in his expression ― he didn’t recognise you. Whoever, or whatever, this was, he wasn’t the man that had kept you company for the last few months.

Logic dictated you should run in the opposite direction. Instead, you propelled forwards towards him, knees skidding on the dirt and landing by his side.

The warm touch of an alien hand grounded him for an ephemeral instant. The bitter cold crawled under his scaled skin, rejecting the heat like a limping animal avoiding the helping hand of a human.

He snarled, creeping back and away from you, as if your mere proximity was a threat to him.

Because it was.

“Din, I’m here, let me help you,” you besought, dragging your knees towards him again.

He didn’t know who Din was. Where he was or had gone. Did he ever exist? The Beast didn’t know―didn’t care. So he growled again, but his futile attempt didn’t keep you at bay. Guessed you had a death wish, only that could explain your blatant refusal to his rejection.

Both your hands fell upon him, like warm blood spilling and enlivening his senses. For once the cold running wild through his veins minimised, giving way to a hot flush that was foreign to him. The sudden warmth surprised him ― but what shocked him the most was how soothing it was, how easy was for him to crave your touch. A primal need.

The Beast had forgotten what warmth was, having been cursed to a lifetime of coldness for as long as he could remember. Crazed by this newfound feeling, he slowly sat back up on the ground, eyeing you like a predator watching his prey.

Your hand reached up to him to cradle his cheek and the Beast closed his eyes, that warm feeling running down his neck, wrapping around his dead yet beating heart.

“You’re so cold,” you mumbled as you cut the distance some more, your chest nudging his side.

Another heatwave flashed through him ― your warmth beckoning, your body too inviting. He wanted to dive in, to let your warmth surround him, make him surrender. He craved it so bad, so fiercely, the Beast bowed down to sink his forked tongue in your mouth ― unannounced, unrequited.

You moaned at the intrusion, your hands lacing on the nape of his neck, and that only spurred him on. He gave in to your warmth and gave up his restraints. Growling, he plundered your mouth as he forced you down onto the ground.

Towering above you, his tongue slipped out of your mouth to graze your neck, and you shivered under him. Biting your chin, he returned to your lips to kiss you, to suck out your warmth to replenish himself. Like a leech he drank from you while his rough, broad hands roamed your body.

“Din,” you mewled.

He didn’t like this Din whose name you were moaning. So he kissed you, not wanting to hear it again and tugged at your clothing. Impatient, he almost tore your garments apart and only relaxed a little when you were completely naked beneath him.

Pressing his bare body against yours, he revelled, soaking in your heat. But there was a part of you that was hotter, and he could sense it ― like a tracking fob, he pursued the warm feeling as he slithered down your frame.

The heat pulsing from between your thighs called him home, hypnotising. You pressed your knees together and he snarled, his sight darting to your glassy, dreamy eyes, silently distraught at your denial.

He leaned down over you to graze one of your nipples, smothering it raw to show you what he could do to you down in your balmy core. His demonstration worked, because the next time he coaxed your legs apart, you showed no resistance.

So down he went on you, fingers splaying out your puffy folds to display the focal point of his desire. Like a thirsty animal his bifid tongue darted out and swept the length of your damp slit in one slow, sweet sweep. He howled into your pussy, besotted, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he devoured your seeping cunt. Warmth poured from your clit, and he latched onto it rather harshly, finally finding the beacon that reeled him in.

“Fuck, that― Mhmm,” whatever you were going to say died in your lips as a moan hitched in your throat and your body trembled.

A rush of liquid fire met his tongue, and he accepted your offering as your thighs quivered around him ― the strength of your release eased slowly, but his tongue didn’t.

His fingers found the warm cave he needed to nestle in. But before he could do that, before his brain got fucked out into oblivion, he had to prepare you to take him. He massaged your leaking entrance one digit at a time until you were sweetly stretched around four of his fingers.

You whimpered with the first pump and slowly you eased into it, into the feeling of being full to the brim. He licked and flicked your throbbing clit, the hot nub driving him wild. Your inner walls tightened, announcing another climax, and he pulled it out of you with his fist still immersed in your pussy.

Once you came down from your high, the Beast unburied from between your thighs and loomed over you. Your half-lidded eyes and fucked-out expression only made him harder, hotter. He hungered for the moment your bodies would connect; the moment he would finally feel only warmth running through his veins. The moment the cold was forgotten, albeit only fleetingly.

The tip of his cock nudged at your pliant entrance, and he trailed the head up and down your dewy furrow a few times. Your eyes blew open the moment he poked at your hole, parting your flesh, and you looked down at his dick kissing the mouth to your cave.

“Din, I don’t think― Oh, holy FUCK,” you mumbled something uncoherent afterwards, head tilted back and your teeth sinking in your bottom lip as your pleading metamorphosed into moaning.

His whole frame blanketed yours as he supported his weight off you by placing his forearms to either side of your head.

Slowly, inch by inch, he buried himself in you, suffocating heat radiating from where you two met. He growled, an animalistic bellow bubbling up his throat as he felt your walls swallowing him, sheathing his throbbing cock. And when he was fully embedded in you, buried almost down to the hilt, you whined as he remained still ― your walls adjusting around him. He was maddened by the warmth of you.

Only when he felt you relax around him, did he start pumping in and out of you. His mind went blank as his sight transfixed on yours and your foreheads touched, another bridge between you. The Beast rutted into you, first paced, then madly, as he stared into your soul. Your body rocked up and down underneath him, your back arched so your nipples caressed the bare skin of his chest.

The movement of water behind him made him look over his shoulder. The Great Mythosaur had resurfaced, only the top of his head and his eyes were above the water table. Watching, ever present and lurking. Eager. Wanting.

He growled at him, a warning to back the fuck down ― he wasn’t sharing you; you were all for himself and himself only. His exclusive prey, no one else’s. With a low rumble, the Great Mythosaur disappeared under the water, and he refocused on you.

Tension built up at the base of his spine, his cock pulsating so hard it was difficult to ignore it any longer. And then your pussy clenched around him as you orgasmed once more, and that inevitably milked him dry ― both of you moaning in unison as ropes of thick, white cum painted your inner walls, leaving a lasting imprint in your core.

The Beast panted above you ― all coldness deserted from his body, destituted by your unique warmth.

He sat back up, his engorged cock leaving your entrails. Through the daze in your eyes, you looked at him with a satisfied grin. As you sat up straight, you lifted one hand towards him, softly placing it on the center of his chest.

“Come back to me, Din,” you begged, and all hell broke loose within him.

The pain, the shearing pain, blinded all his senses as his bones snapped and rearranged again. His jaw clenched to stop the agonising screams hiking up his throat. Din hunkered down as his body adjusted back to normal size.

As grievous as it was, it was over very quickly. Too quickly. He had not fully transformed into the Beast, which meant easing out of it was not as traumatic.

What was traumatic was the sudden landslide of overwhelming feelings taking form inside him. Almost a decade of apathy meant years’ worth of emotions repressed ― emotions that would emerge to the surface if given the opportunity. And whatever you unleashed within him, flooded his brain and his heart.

A myriad of sentiments rushed through him ― joy, anger, hope, disappointment, serenity, desperation. All at once, a cacophony bursting his eardrums. So loud were his emotions, all boiling together inside him, his thoughts were drowned. He couldn’t think ― panic was setting in.

Din panted as his arms and legs trembled uncontrollably, lungs vacating all oxygen in sharp exhales. His ears rang and his heart threatened to climb up his throat and run. Eyes closed shut, he grasped for control.

“Din, I’m here,” your hands slid on his back, grabbing him by the shoulders.

A soothing balm taking many of his worries away. Your palms smoothing out his skin felt like an anchor. One he desperately tried to hold onto.

Through the fog of his anxiety, he saw you knelt by his side, hugging him close. Naked as he was, a sweaty patina clinging to your skin. Although Din had not been in possession of his own body, he had been relegated to the background and had been witness to everything that happened. Forced to watch him take you.

He felt sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry. I can’t control him, I just―,” he wheezed as he sat back up.

Your soft eyes sparkled, a faint smile curling up your lips. Your fingers snaked through his hair, combing it back.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Din,” you hugged him tighter, reassuring, kissing one of his shoulders.

“Are you hurt? Did I― did he…?”

“I’m completely fine. A bit… sensitive and raw. But in a good way,” you added with a faint chuckle.

The comforting caress of your hand rubbing his back and your lips brushing the skin on his shoulder made him believe you.

Even though the look in your eyes had not changed, he could see the questions dancing in your pupils. Questions you were holding back, but that would eventually spurt out.

Your free hand reached for his left cheek, and he almost flinched at the proximity. Your thumb had come too close to the scar, sending a shot of pain down his neck. But he didn’t lean back away from you. Instead, Din stilled under your touch.

“I knew you’d be gorgeous underneath that helmet,” you whispered, your mouth close to his.

Din grunted, taking your compliment as an offense. Why were you mocking him? He knew how he looked ― he didn’t need you making fun of him for it.

And why was he upset? He shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Your tiny fingers wrapped around his wrist when he reached for the helmet nearby. You yanked his forearm until his eyes met yours.

“I wasn’t joking. I mean it, Din. Truly,” you husked, hand again on his cheek and thumb too close for comfort.

He couldn’t see a sliver of jest in your features. You were deadpan serious. And that scared him.

Din looked away, coming to terms with the flaring emotions. Emotions. Even the unspoken word tasted weird on his tongue.

You moved away from him to quickly gather your clothes and put them on. Then returned to his side with his armour and clothing.

“Let’s go back home, Din. You look knackered,” you mumbled, kneeling by his side again.

Din didn’t reject your aid when you helped him get dressed again. Taking the helmet between your hands, he bowed down his head so you could put it on for him.

His body ached in places he didn’t even know could hurt ― all the restructuring his bones had to endure always took a physical toll on him. So much so, he needed your help to stand up ― his legs felt like those of a newborn humbaba.

But today… today it also took an emotional toll on him.

He really was exhausted.

You probably needed time to process what had happened tonight, a whirlwind of questions and doubts battered around in your mind. But you didn’t want to leave Din alone, not when he looked so fatigued, a moment away from breaking.

Walking down the silent corridor beside him, arm draped around his waist, you went past your room. You had never been to his and hoped tonight would be the night where he would let you spend it by his side.

Hand heavy on the handle, you pushed it down and the door swung open. You didn’t know what to expect and, somehow, the bareness of his room did not surprise you at all. The metalwork on the walls had been painted black and the furniture was sparse. A massive bed with black bedsheets dominated the room.

Despite the monochromatic theme, it felt cozy, inviting even. Dragging him towards the bed, you gently pushed him down on to the mattress and knelt in front of him to remove his boots.

“I can do it,” his words slurred.

“I know. But let me do it, please,” you muttered, throwing the shoes to one side.

Din hummed in agreement, so slowly you unfastened all the beskar pieces again. Removed the vest underneath and unzipped his body stocking down the side, helping him out of it.

There was something extremely intimate about undressing him. Not with a deprived end in mind, but a caring one.

I could do this forever. Only if you’d let me, the intrusive thought didn’t startle you. Because it was true.

Last, you placed your hands to either side of his helmet to pull it up. By pure instinct, his hands darted up to yours to stop you from uncovering his face.

“It’s okay, Din,” you reassured him softly.

Din crooned again, arms falling to his sides, surrendering, and you took it off, leaving it on the nightstand.

You could truly get used to this; you’d never tire of looking at him. His rugged features, although distorted by the nasty scar, were pleasant. His soft, brown and white eyes, the aquiline nose, the moustache blending in with the beard, the strong jaw. You only saw beauty, no beast.

Mando let himself fall backwards and you stood there by the side of the bed, unsure of what to do with yourself.

He decided for you.

“Stay, please,” he purred, half asleep by the time his head touched the pillow underneath.

He didn’t need to say more. Removing your clothes, you joined him under the bedlinen with a smirk.

The first lights of the morning filtered through the big window in Din’s bedroom. You had been awake for an hour now, but he had been so peacefully sleeping, you didn’t want to disturb him.

A tangled mess of limbs you were, your legs intertwined with his while your right cheek rested on his bare chest. Your left forearm was splayed across his abdomen, the tips of your fingers mindlessly caressing his ribs.

Pressing a kiss to his left pec, he stirred under you, slowly coming out of his slumber. You hugged him tighter, an easy smile surfacing.

“Good morning,” you husked when he looked down at you with just his left eye open, lips slightly curled downwards.

His addled expression made you snicker as you kissed his jawline.

“Morning,” he hushed back once his brain registered your words.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Everything hurts, but I’m okay.”

The arm of his under you moved, bringing you closer to him in a half embrace.

“I know you have questions,” he said a few moments later.

“Understatement of the year,” you joked, lifting your head slightly up to rest your chin on his chest. “Is now a good time?”

“Might as well,” his reply was accompanied by a smirk.

“You didn’t transform fully last night, did you?”

Din shook his head. “No, just halfway. I think your presence stopped it from happening.”

Did that mean that you could soothe the beast? That you could help Din in a way that really mattered? The mere possibility filled your belly with butterflies.

“And, well, the most obvious one… How?” you emphasized the last word.

“A witch cursed me before I killed her,” you looked at him quizzically, eyebrows raised, and he sighed. “A man by the name of Moff Gideon had someone I held dear under his grasp. A kid I was fond of,” he paused to gather his thoughts while your breath hitched at the name of Moff Gideon. “I fought Gideon to free him. I won, but he had backup I did not see coming. A witch named Morgan Elsbeth. She came to his rescue and I ended up killing her. Her last breath cursed me to an existence of apathy and becoming a beast. Guess it worked,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “That was eight years ago and ever since then, my ability to feel has been dying out while the beast has only gotten stronger.”

Your head spun with so much information, you almost felt dizzy. Did Din fight Moff Gideon? Was it his halo you chased eight years ago?

“Is that how you got the crack on your helmet and the scar?” you ventured, heart pounding.

“Mhm,” was his only reply. “How I lost my right eye too.”

The helmet was made of beskar, one of the strongest alloys in the Galaxy. Only a weapon strong enough would be able to melt it. But you couldn’t push him for more details, or it would be suspicious.

And did it really matter? Did you care that much about the Darksaber? Yes, you had spent your whole life looking for it; yes, you had promised your dying father you would finish the mission. But that felt like a lifetime ago.

“What was the kid’s name? What happened to him?”

“Grogu. He is Force sensitive, he went to the Jedi for training,” he pursed his lips, and your fingers smoothed out the crow’s feet around his right eye.

“You miss him,” you hummed, your fingertips tracing imaginary lines on his skin.

“I didn’t think I did. Till now,” he confessed, stirring under you. “I don’t know, it’s weird. Since last night I have started to… feel again. And it’s overwhelming.”

Your heart did a little jump against your ribcage. If he could feel now, did he feel for you?

You were too scared to ask, so didn’t.

“Maybe the curse is fading?”

“Maybe,” he said back, sounding unconvinced. “You hungry?”

You nodded.

“I’ll go get something. Bet Nau’ul has prepared a feast. Whether it’s edible or not, I don’t know.”

You chuckled at the joke and moved off him so Din could get up. In silence, you watched him dress, his back muscles rippling with every movement.

Yes, you could get used to this.

Fuck the Darksaber. Fuck everything. You just wanted to live your life. With him. Here, in Mandalore. Only if he’d let you.

It was selfish of you to think this way, but Din’s curse had become your blessing.

Every night since you discovered his secret, you’d go to his room and spend the hours of darkness with him. He would reluctantly take the helmet off, but each time you would reassure him he couldn’t scare you away, that what he thought he looked like didn’t matter in the slightest. And you meant every single word. In your eyes, he was perfect just the way he was.

There was still the issue of his Creed forbidding him, but you wondered if it was more habit than anything else.

And every full moon, you would follow him down to the Mythosaur lair to let him take you, excitement running through your veins every single time. You knew you shouldn’t enjoy it but allowing him to fuck you in beast form was exhilarating. Even with practice you had still not been able to take him fully ― his cock too big to bear. It was worse when you attempted a blowjob on him ― your jaw almost dislocated. But you were more than happy to try, obviously.

And of course, it helped him regulate, which was the most important point of all. He had told you he didn’t feel as cold either. Even if his body was hot to the touch, Din had explained how his organs, his blood, felt like icicles. Ever since the beast had had a taste of your warmth―Din’s words, not yours―it seemed like his feelings were slowly crawling back.

That had been interesting too. After so many years spent numb, Din had had a bit of trouble dealing with his emotions. Sometimes they were extreme, out of proportion even, but he was learning how to manage them. Although most days felt like one step forward and three back, especially when it was a touchy subject such as love.

You had tried, but Din was still of the idea that he couldn’t truly feel ― that this was just a glitch, a shortcut, but not the real thing. And because of his stupid theory, he didn’t want to hear you say anything about The Matter. You had seen how much he had improved, how much better he could deal with everything, and yet he wouldn’t listen to you in that respect.

You rolled your eyes, still thinking about it, as you trekked through the mud. It was a crispy morning, but the cold had started to recede. Poor Ca’nara had a faulty retractable third leg ― the inside mechanism was getting jammed regularly. You had decided to be proactive and walk to the landing site of your X-wing, in the hopes that some parts of your astromech droid were salvageable. An extremely long shot, yes, but you had to try at least.

In full armour, Din sauntered towards the dining room, where the three droids seemed to be conferring about something.

None of them heard him coming, and Nau’ul startled dramatically when he saw him.

“Oh! Alor! What― Uh, do you want something to eat?” he asked, looking at Mrs. Kri’gee and Ca’nara nervously.

Din frowned, suspicious of their jumpy, evasive behaviour.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbled as his eye caught a glimpse of something shiny Nau’ul was holding, trying to conceal it. “What’s that?”

“Ah, this? Well. You see, I― It’s― Nothing really. I don’t really know what―” his stammering was riling Din up.

He was a damn droid, not a fucking human. How could Nau’ul get edgier than himself? Unbelievable.

“Give,” he extended his hand towards the droid, palm up, and curled his fingers with impatience.

The three droids shared weird looks, but Nau’ul finally handed him the object.

Din turned around the metal item and as soon as he did, he recognised the beskar. Brows knitting, he inspected the grooves and quickly identified them as astromeridian lines. This was not a simple object; it was a Jedi star compass. Confused as to how this came to be in the possession of Nau’ul, Din unclasped the compass and lifted the lid.

His breathing hitched and his heart skipped a beat. This was not any star compass; this was the star compass. One that all Mandalorians believed to be a myth. But the black plasma in the lodestone didn’t lie. In his hand he was holding the very same star compass that Tarre Vizsla had commissioned to keep track of the Darksaber in case it ever got stolen.

“Where did you get this?” he snapped, fingers clutching the device tight.

“I― Well, it’s complicated. I thought―”

“It’s hers, isn’t it?” he interrupted.

The memory of that day trip to your ship came back to him. A locket, you had said. Bullshit.

Nau’ul nodded.

“How long have you had this?”

“Weeks, Alor. I did recognise it from the lore I knew about House Vizsla, but we didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. She’s doing you good, Master, you’ve improved―”

“Unnecessarily? Are you for fucking real, Nau’ul?” Din replied angrily, teeth gritting.

Without expecting an answer, he turned around and stormed out of the room.

You were kneeling on the ground, elbow’s deep in the core of your old R3-D3 unit, trying to reach a hidden screw, when you heard heavy steps approaching.

“Good you’re here, I can’t get to this screw. I’ve been at it for five minutes now. Can you try?” you asked Din, who stopped inches away from your back.

When he didn’t say a word, you turned around and glanced up at him.

He radiated tension through every pore, his posture stiff and shoulders squared. Eyebrows furrowed, you got up, cleaning the palm of your hands on your trousers.

“What’s the matter, Din?”

“This. Why did you have this?” his voice transpired how mad he felt as he handed you an object you quickly recognised.

The star compass that Nau’ul had confiscated from you weeks ago. You had assumed the droid didn’t know what it was and hadn’t bothered to show it to Din.

Your eyes shot up to where you knew his were.

“I can explain,” you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his forearm.

“You better start talking now,” even if he hadn’t backed away from you, he felt so distant.

Your mind raced and your heart galloped inside your chest. You could lie your way out of this situation, but you didn’t want to. You loved him, and nothing else mattered. He would understand. Eventually.

“Din, listen to me, please. I’m not gonna lie to you: it is exactly what it looks like. My family, my tribe― we are trackers. Have been tracking the Darksaber for generations. I was raised to hate your people, but the message never really sunk in for me. Our purpose was to find the Darksaber and destroy it,” you explained while he remained deadly silent. “That was why I was travelling through the Mandalore system. I was tracking the Darksaber. I was going to Concordia, but I ran into technical problems with my X-wing and had to divert here. I think― I thought it was there.”

Until that night you sneaked out to the west wing. You had been caught before you could confirm your suspicions but were pretty sure that was what Din was hiding in the west wing. The reason he wouldn’t let you be anywhere nearby.

“But now you know it’s not in Concordia,” he finished for you.

You nodded.

“But I don’t care for it anymore, Din. Once I figured you likely had it, I made a choice. I chose you,” you whispered, closing in on him until your bodies met. “You have to believe me.”

He didn’t talk at all. Silence strung between you, dense and worrying, like a rope wrapping around your neck, forcing the oxygen out of your lungs. You didn’t want to panic, knowing that Din probably only needed time to think, to digest and ruminate.

Minutes went by and your grip on his forearm loosened. You were ready to take a step back, give him some space to process, when Din finally spoke in his modulated voice.

“I believe you,” a wave of relief washed over you, “and I choose you too.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and then climbed up your oesophagus. It was beating so hard, so fast, you were seconds away from passing out.

He chose you.

Before you could throw your arms around his neck with pure elation, Din took a step back and one hand reached towards the back of his belt. Confused, you followed the movement of his hand, a deep wrinkle burrowing between your brows.

Din presented you a black hilt, waved it a little, and then the black and white blade appeared, humming very loudly, although dimmer than what you expected. Your eyes widened at the sight of the Darksaber ― the item your whole family had been searching for, right there, in front of you, an inch away from your fingers.

Lifting your right hand, you reached for it.

Suddenly, a firing sound broke the silence and, inexplicably, Din leaned forward towards you, the Darksaber dropping from his hand.

You held him by the elbows, not understanding what was happening, as his hands grasped for you. Then a second firing noise uprooted a painful groan from him while he almost dragged you to the floor.

“Din? Din!” you whispered, on your knees with him in your arms, as your hands roamed his body.

You felt the warm blood before you could see it and panic settled in fast. He was profusely bleeding from two gunshots on his back, right below the beskar piece that covered his six.

“No, no. Wait. What―” you sobbed as Din groaned, his consciousness drifting away.

You were losing him fast, and you didn’t even know how.

“Are you okay? Is he dead?”

A male voice came from behind a tree near the cliff. A voice you had not heard in a long while, but quickly recognised.

Ashton.

Blaster still pointing at Din, Ash had frozen several meters away from you. What was he doing here? How did he get here unnoticed? Why? Fucking why?

But none of those questions left your mouth, gutted as you were, holding onto Din, worried he would slip away from you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, overwhelmed as you were.

Din stirred in your arms, and you saw the panic reflected in Ash’s eyes as he cocked the blaster in Din’s direction again. There was no time to think, to beg, to ask him to leave. To tell him you loved the man he was intent on killing.

So you did the only thing you could do. Your fingers found Din’s blaster in his holster, lifted it up, pointed to Ash, and shot.

The light beam flashed before it hit dead center between Ash’s eyes. He stumbled back and fell into the abyss behind him. And just like that, you had killed the only friend you had known.

You should have doubted your actions, but you didn’t. It all happened too quickly, and you had bigger worries than having killed one of the few people you cared about. Like losing the love of your life.

Dropping the blaster, you rushed to remove Din’s helmet.

“Din, please, just hold on. Please, stay with me. Please, don’t leave,” you screamed and cried, hands trembling and pressing on the wounds on his back.

His eyes fluttered open, only a tiny slit ― his gloved hand reached up, cradling your cheek.

“Cyar’ika,” he could barely talk. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum (I love you). Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No, no. NO. You ain’t saying goodbye. No,” your words slurred as your sobs intensified, your heart breaking into a myriad of tiny pieces.

You removed the glove of his hand to kiss the palm, your tears streaming between his fingers. Yours wrapped around his wrist, holding him there.

As you cried your eyes out, you noticed the Darksaber humming louder, almost deafening, and its light shining brighter. Its vibration called you, hearing your name inside your head. A Force deep within you awakening, beckoning you to touch it. A need as basic as breathing.

Through teary eyes, blinking fast, you gave in ― you grabbed it.

An electrifying sensation ran through you, all your muscles coiling at once. Your mind spiralled out of control, for a moment losing track of time and space. The Force was so intense, so primitive, you thought you would be obliterated by its magnitude.

When you could finally open your eyes, the blade had dimmed considerably and then it completely snuffed out. Your cries had not stopped though, so loud you almost missed Din’s voice.

“Mesh’la,” he rasped, trying to straighten his back, “you― you’re Force sensitive. You’ve used the Force of the Darksaber to heal me.”

Your wet eyes darted to him and then his wounds. Or where the wounds had been but no longer existed. Mouthing a gulp of air, you instantly dropped the Darksaber to hug him tight, crying louder than before.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. We’re okay,” he hushed, comforting you.

“I love you, Din,” you mumbled in the crook of his neck, relief running through you loosening your taut muscles. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me again or I’ll kill you myself.”

Din chuckled, one hand smoothing out your hair.

“Noted, cyar’ika.”

Cradling his handsome face, you pressed a kiss to his lips. Salty yet sweet. You kissed him again, looking for the solace of his tongue.

The wind carried some words you barely made out.

“Maker met.”

Four full moons had come and gone, and the beast was no more.

Din’s curse was broken. For good. Forever.

You couldn’t have asked for anything else. Anyone else. You loved him and he loved you back ― he had shown you many times. Right as he was showing you now.

Your lips brushed his tummy right above his belly button, leaving a trail of kisses as you found your way back to his mouth. Din was laying on his back, his rough hands caressing the back of your thighs as you kissed his scar and then his right eye, lips soft as a cloud.

He didn’t flinch anymore whenever you touched the sensitive skin or his blind eye. Instead, he sighed, as if your caress was soothing, calming. As if you could take away the pain he felt sometimes.

You sat back up on top of him, straddling his hips as his mushroom head hitched in your entrance, his hands compelling you to impale yourself. But you didn’t ― not yet.

Instead, you leaned over a bit, taking the helmet off the nightstand. It was heavy. Curious to know what it felt like, you put it on. The padding inside was soft, your face snug. It was slightly claustrophobic, but also comforting. Weird.

“It suits you, cyar’ika. You should consider taking up the Creed,” he mumbled, eyes full of desire, of yearning. Of love.

You chuckled and stirred your hips above him, the tip of his cock going in ever so smoothly.

“For you, I just might, Din.”

@baronessvonglitter @bishtrouille @natalieispunk @iknowisoundcrazy @almostfoxglove

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popeabbot · 3 months ago

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Calm before the storm

18+ readers beware

(Chat I’m gonna be honest I did not proofread this, my life has been insane so I cranked it out as soon as I could. Spoilers for episode 13 of you aren’t caught up on The Pitt)

Dr. Micheal “Robby” Robinavitchxf!Dr.reader

Tags: established relationship (married), age gap (bc ofc we love to sexualize old men here), violence, gore, death, gun violence, hurt/comfort, PTSD, ptsd related episodes, panic attacks, mentions of drug use

Wc:3.8k

~Normally you and Robby both take today off, but when he gets called in you decide to take Jake and Leah to Pitt Fest, only for it to take a turn for the worse~

“What are you doing?” You hummed into your husband's neck as he tried to crawl out from under you.

“Just gotta get up honey,”

“Bullshit it’s 5:30 and we agreed to stay in today. We’re taking the kids to Pitt fest remember?” You untangled your legs from his and sat up on his lap, wiping the sleep for your eyes.

“I have to work…I don’t want to but they’re down an attending and Gloria’s already up my ass I don’t need her to be up yours too if I don’t show.”

You frowned. Everyone knew what today was, especially Gloria.

“She’s a heartless bitch.” You pouted, crossing your arms defensively. Micheal couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, he kissed you, using the kiss as a distraction to get out of bed.

“Hey!” You shouted playfully, “no distraction kisses mister!” You got out of bed and threw on whatever tee shirt you could find before trailing behind Micheal to the bathroom. Your usual morning routine was quiet today, normally the two of you would make a game plan for the day. It was about this time you’d start calling him Robby, but not today. He needed to be Micheal Robinavitch for as long as possible before being ‘Dr. Robby’ for the rest of the day.

“Here’s some coffee, we’ll be by later to get the passes so you can see us off,” You smiled warmly, passing Micheal a to-go cup and his backpack.

“Wow, my wonderful wife already had my stuff ready for me! What would I do without you?” He questioned pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Well you’re an old man so you’d probably have a hard time on your own, that’s why I’m here,” you giggled as he rolled his eyes. With another kiss and a playful slap to your ass he was gone.

Robby’s headed your way, please keep an eye on him?

Already on it.

Thank god for Dana. You silently prayed that today would be an easy day. But who were you kidding, he was walking into The Pitt, and it didn’t have that name for no reason.

——

“I could’ve picked you up!” You kicked the door to your house shut as Jake walked in, waving off his uber.

“It’s no problem really! I needed the quiet drive to calm down.” You couldn’t help but smile at Jake’s apparent nervousness. He had friends who were girls but never an actual girlfriend. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of how he looked just like Robby when the two of you started to date.

“You look like Robby,” you laughed. “scared shitless, but don’t be! Leah is gonna have a great time and I get to be cheesy and third wheel!”

“Honestly I’m glad it’s just one of you and not you and Robby. You guys are so gross together!” Jake pretended to gag at the idea of you and Robby being romantic. You were just glad you could come in and be stepmom without disruption, Jake was just hitting puberty when the two of you got married but he accepted you almost immediately. He really had become not only a friend but your son.

When are you and Jake coming by? It's been a morning, Robby’s had 3 coffees before 11am.

Technically 4…..but you wouldn’t tell Dana that.

Jake just pulled up, let me change and we’ll head your way.

You changed out of your pjs into some more comfortable outdoor clothes and packed up festival essentials before heading to the hospital. You and Jake walked into what seemed to be a normal day in the Pitt, minus the obvious influx of student doctors it seemed like another day in fucked up paradise.

“Hey Jay!” Dana smiled brightly and pulled Jake into a hug, Jake always made everyone’s day brighter when he came in. You took a moment to scan the floor, your husband was nowhere to be found. You looked back to Dana to see everyone quizzing him on Leah, and giving him condoms.

“Hey! Did y’all forget his favorite step mom is third wheeling? We’re not gonna need those!” Jake’s face quickly turned red as he turned on his heel and booked it to Langdon. “So?” You questioned, walking up to Dana once she was alone.

“Well we’ve had a kid OD, a woman’s foot fully degloved after she got pushed onto train tracks, two adult children having to let their father go after putting him on a vent against his wishes, rats, the Kraken is awake and those are only the highlights.”

“And it’s only lunch!” You breathed out surprised.

“Well Mrs. Robinavitch, how nice of you to join us.”

“Not today Gloria you only get one Robinavitch!” You spun around with a tight smile plastered on your face. “I’m taking Jake to Pitt fest. My husband and I were supposed to go together but it looks like yall go busy.”

“Doctor-“ Gloria had that stern look on her face you couldn’t stand, but you spotted Robby just behind her and found your way out.

“Gloria I would love to chat about why you’re mad at me and bullshit like that but my husband needs help with a patient!” You swiftly walked past Gloria, locking your arm in with Robby’s and walking down the hall.

“Hi Honey,” Robby kissed your cheek softly, you could feel the tension in his body relax as you wrapped your arm around his waist.

“How are you?”

He let out a ragged sigh. “As fine as I can be. Myrna just hit on me again, so at least some things stay the same around here.”

You smiled softly at him before pulling him into a tight hug, having to stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. He took a deep breath into your collarbone, inhaling the sweet perfume he loved.

“God I wish we were home curled up in bed.” He groaned.

“Your shift will be over before you know it.” You kissed him again.

“Gross!” Jake shrieked, interrupting your tender moment. Robby laughed, throwing his head back and kissed you again, harder. He gave your hips a tight squeeze before throwing his arm around Jake, leading him to the nurses station. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Even though Jake’s mom and Robby weren’t together, Jake was his son 100%.

“Mom wanted to know how you were doing,” Jake rubbed the back of his neck as you walked up to him in the middle of his conversation with Robby.

“Well that’s very sweet of her. Again, I really am sorry about missing Pitt Fest but you’ll have fun with the girls.” Robby smiled, putting 3 carded lanyards in Jake’s hand.

“You still free for Basketball Sunday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Robby pulled Jake into a tight hug. “Hey when am I gonna meet this girl? I’m kind of pissed your stepmom gets to meet her before I do.”

“Soon I promise! But hopefully not too soon, everyone’s been weirding me out giving me their advice….and condoms.”

“Wait.” Robby turned to fully face Jake “are you having sex?”

You ran up and kissed Robby’s cheek before grabbing Jake and leaving. “Bye we’ll send pics!”

—

You and Jake walked up to the security entrance for Pitt Fest, standing at the side of the entrance was a tall girl with long golden brown hair, she smiled when she saw Jake.

“Oh she’s cute!”

“Please don’t embarrass me.” Jake sighed, but smiled back at Leah, his cheeks warm.

“Hey Jake!” Leah hugged Jake tightly, she smiled at you shyly when she pulled away. “Hi Mrs. Robinavitch, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Call me Honey please, or Robin, everyone does.” You hugged her. “I’m glad to finally meet the person who’s been making Jake so happy!”

You decided to keep your distance and let the kids have their time as you walked around the festival, some of the artists were still setting up but there was plenty of food, art and shopping to enjoy. But your mind was other places. Specifically worrying about Robby. He looked worn out when you saw him. He had clearly been agitated and was covering it up, but you knew that eventually it would spill over.

The kids are having fun, Leah is a nice girl. I can’t wait for you to meet her! Miss you, love you, don’t forget to breathe.

You knew he wouldn’t see or reply to it immediately but it was there when he would need it.

Before you even realized it a few hours had past, you smiled listening to Leah and Jake rant and rave about their favorite artists, arguing over songs, albums and music theories. You had truly never seen him this happy around a girl and it made your heart swell.

Until the shots started.

You’d lived in the city, and been around guns enough growing up to know what gunfire sounded like.

“Jake, Leah, stay close.” You warned the giggling kids, trying to lead them away from the stage you were currently occupying.

“What’s going on?”

Before you could answer Jake chaos broke out. Masses of people screaming and crying, all headed your way. You grabbed Jake and Leah and ran with the crowd, trying to spot where the gunfire was coming from as people started to drop like flies.

You needed a place to hide. Or make it to the entrance as fast as possible. In the chaos a man knocked you down, separating you from the kids.

“Goddamnit!” You cursed, curling up in a ball to protect yourself from the herd of people running above. When you found your moment you pushed yourself up, scanning the lawn for Jake and Leah.

And then you saw them.

Jake was crouched over the top of Leah, the grass turning a shade of crimson underneath her.

“Jake!” You ran to them and collapsed next to him. “Are you hurt?” He shook his head, looking down at Leah. It didn’t look good.

“I-I - the bullets came out of nowhere” Jake choked out.

“Listen to me. Run to the entrance as fast as you can, don’t look back, don’t stop to help anyone,” you gripped Jake’s shoulders tightly to ground him to what you were saying. “Flag down any EMT you can find and tell them I’m coming with a female with a GSW to the chest. Can you do that?”

Jake nodded, you kissed his forehead and when the lawn was clear he bolted.

“Leah? Baby can you hear me?” You put a finger to her pulse, it was ragged, she was loosing a lot of blood. Jake had taken his jacket off and was using it to put pressure to the wound. You ripped your belt off and did the best you could to assemble a makeshift tourniquet. Leah mumbled something about how it hurt, her skin turning glossy. “It’s gonna hurt like hell but you’re gonna be okay.”

“W-where’s Jake?”

“Getting help, we’re going to meet him. Hold on tight.” You picked Leah up bridal style and bolted for the entrance. The screaming, crying and constant gunfire would’ve sent anyone into a frenzy, even you. But not today, today you had people who depended on you. Jake stood at the entrance with Logan, a paramedic you knew.

“Her name is Leah Fisher, one GSW to the chest. The bullet didn’t go all the way so there’s probable internal and external bleeding. She’s losing a lot of blood. I made a tourniquet with my belt but she needs blood now and blood when she gets to the hospital.” You turned from Logan to Jake. “Jake. Keep her awake. I love you.” You hugged him tightly.

“Where are you going?”

“To help. There’s people down that aren’t dead yet, we need to save as many people as we can.” And with that, you ran back into the chaos.

-The Pitt

The ER was chaos,different triage points were color coordinated in different parts of the ER to try and keep some form of control. The night shift had been called in early with the influx of bodies. Robby had tried to call you and Jake multiple times when he first heard about the shooting but neither of you had answered, your last text kept flashing in his mind.

The kids are having fun, Leah is a nice girl. Miss you, love you, don’t forget to breathe.

Don’t forget to breathe. The day was already wearing on him. He’d already lost too many people, but they were saving a lot of people too. He had to remember that. Robby would never admit to anyone that he almost broke when Jack Abbot walked in.

He stood in front of the ER staff, day and night shift and immediately went into action walking them through combat medicine. The entire ER would have to become one steady unit if they were going to make it through the night. Once Jack finished prepping everyone the bodies started rolling in.

Robby helped bounce from patient to patient. So far their survival rate was 1 in 3….wasn’t looking good. His armour was starting to crack, only Abbott, Langdon and Dana could see it. So they floated what they could.

Robby was about to throw Langdon out of the hospital from their previous conversation when Leah and Jake rolled in.

“Jake?!” Robby ran to Jake as one of the nurses assessed Leah. “Are you hurt?”

“Um. Ya my leg, but I think it went all the way through. Is Leah going to be okay? I put pressure on her chest the whole time, mom even made a tie with her belt.”

“Wait.” Robby looked up to see you weren’t with the kids. “Where is she? Your stepmom?”

“She went back.”

Robby cursed under his breath. Of course you were going to be selfless and go back in to help as soon as you knew your kids were in good hands. Robby passed Jake off to a nurse promising to do the best he could and went back to work on Leah.

It was bad. They all knew she wasn’t going to make it but Robby tried anyways. Intubate. Chest compressions. Push O-neg.

“Open another line for FFP and platelets!” Robby shouted.

“Are you sure?” Dana questioned. All Robby had to do was shoot her a look before she did exactly what he asked. Robby switched with the nurse to do chest compressions but every pulse check was the same. Nothing. But Robby refused to let her die.

He pushed as much blood as they could spare before Jack came up next to him.

“The bullet tore through her heart.”

“I know.”

“This isn’t part of our mass casualty plan brother. You might have to let her go.”

Robby could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn’t lose another patient. Not this patient. He continued another round of compressions, stopping when the final pulse check was still no Carotid and no femoral.

“Do you want me to go with you to talk with Jake?” Abbot asked, placing a hand on Robby’s shoulder.

“No, no I’ll do it.”

The conversation with Jake did not go well, Leah’s death was the final crack in Robby’s armour and Jake’s understandably upset reaction to her death sent Robby into a full blown breakdown. He curled up in the corner of the press room and let out everything that had been building up from the moment he clocked in. The sobs tore through him violently, all he could do was curl into himself hoping they would stop. Everything leading to this moment, every bad memory, every patient he couldn’t save, every person he let down, over looked, it was all coming to a head in this moment. He’d been holding this panic attack in since he clocked in and it steamrolled into a full on breakdown.

He clenched his shaking hands together as he tried to breathe, people needed him. His patients, his students, his son. You were out there somewhere helping people in the middle of the storm, he had to control it, but he didn’t want to. Robby didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, minutes? hours? A knock on the door snapped him out of it.

“Robby…” Dana’s voice was gentle but it held a sense of urgency.

“She’s here. It’s bad.”

—

“Female, 30’s, multiple GSWs, one to her hip, one to her lower left abdomen. She was conscious on the ride over but we lost her transferring from the gurney to the bed” An EMT shouted over your head, Jack was the one to receive you, a look of fear washed over him.

“Hey, honey can you hear me?” He rubbed your chest with his knuckles. “I need you to wake up.” His tone was clinical, he had to set his emotions aside. “Get a crash cart! Charge it to 200!”

Mateo ran over with a crash cart, setting the pads up, it only took one shock to bring you back. Your eyes shot open as you tried to sit up immediately.

“Sarah?! Sarah!!”

“Who’s sarah?” Jack asked, fighting to lay you back down despite your injuries.

“Jack Rabbit!! Sh-she’s a little girl, I had her with me. I was getting her back to her mom and dad-“ your heart rate spiked, you were distraught. “Sarah!”

“She’s fine,” Logan, the paramedic who brought you in, ran over to your bed. “As soon as we pulled up to PTMC her parents were waiting. She’s just fine.”

“Oh thank god.” You sobbed. Robby ran to you as Jack laid you down.

“Pupils are reactive to light, but it looks like she might have a head injury,” one of the nurses shouted over your head, causing you to wince. She lightly pressed your face looking for facial fractures but thankfully you’d covered it well enough from the stampede.

“Her pulse is thready, could be adrenaline, could be something else.” Jack spoke low to Robby. He nodded.

“Hey sweetheart, let’s get you checked out.” They stripped you down to get a look at both wounds. Robby grimaced at the bruises you were covered in, you had cracked at least 2 or 3 ribs when you’d been stomped.

The shot to your abdomen looked clean through and through with minimal bleeding, but there was no exit wound to your hip.

“Let’s see if we can stop the bleeding to her abdomen then we’ll worry about the hip I need gauze!” Nurses worked to stop the bleeding on both sides, Robby took a stethoscope and placed it on your stomach to listen to your breathing, it was getting clearer.

“Her abdomen isn’t distended, there’s only slight tenderness around the wound but nothing to suggest a peritonitis or a peritoneal hemorrhage. Let’s stitch her up and push O Neg.”

You were beginning to fall in and out of consciousness, only catching bits and pieces of what everyone was saying. You knew Jack and Robby were there, but eventually you succumbed to the darkness.

—

You woke up to the sound of the organized chaos you were used to hearing in the Pitt, a heart monitor beeped steadily above you and you became aware of the oxygen hose in your nose. Your whole body hurt. You began to remember why you were laying in a hospital bed, there was a shooter at Pitt Fest.

“Jake??” you tried to move suddenly but your body screamed in retaliation. You looked around the room, your eyes falling on Robby, curled up in an arm chair next to you. Even while sleeping he looked tired, the bags around his eyes darker than usual. His stress lines were set deep. This was not how today was supposed to go. He was still in his bloodied scrubs, once blue were now a shade of muddied purple. Jake was nowhere to be seen, making your heart rate spike.

“Hey honey, he’s with Leah’s family.” Jack leaned against the door frame, arms crossed tightly.

“Oh. Oh poor baby.” You sighed. Truth be told you knew when you ran with Leah to the paramedic she wasn’t going to make it. But you had to try.

“You had us all worried sick you know, coming in battered like that.”

“I had to do something. I left the kids in the best possible hands…that little girl would’ve died if I hadn’t gone back.”

Jack ran his hand over his face and pushed off from the door frame, taking a seat on your bed.

“You’re abdomen is going to be sore for a while, but the shot was clean. The bullet in your hip fractured, we were able to stabilize the bone but you’re going to have to keep the pins in it and do physical therapy. You’ll be able to come back to work, when you’re ready.”

You nodded slowly. “How’s it going out there?”

“We’re a little calmer now, it’s been a few hours….” He wanted to say something, you could see it in his eyes. “Robby broke. Just before you came in. Dana said he was curled up in the peds room when she went to find him she didn’t even recognize him. He disappeared after we got you stable and…I had to drag him off of the roof.”

Your eyes widened, the only thing you could do was let out a horrified gasp. You knew when you woke up this morning he should’ve stayed, you should’ve been here with him. No. No, the people you helped today needed you.

“Thank you Jack Rabbit. For holding him together when I couldn’t.” He smiled at the use of your nickname. You looked over at your husband “Robby?” Your voice was low, gentle, but enough to stir him from his sleep. His eyes widened at the sight of you and he moved to your bed immediately.

“Hey..” he whispered, scared to touch you. Jack squeezed your hand and left to get back to work.

“Hi, I’m okay.” You were firm. It wasn’t up for debate. You were here, you were alive. Robby’s eyes brimmed with tears, you held his face as wipes them as they fell. “Hey, hey I’m okay Robby I mean it.”

Robby held you as tightly as he could without bringing you any pain, your perfume was long gone but if he tried hard enough he could still smell it. You could feel tears land on your collarbone but you didn’t utter a word, instead you rubbed small circles into his back, humming softly to comfort him. You held him for a while until there was a soft knock at your door, your eyes shot up and met with Jake’s, red rimmed and glossy. You patted the other side of the bed and he practically ran to you, throwing his arms around you and Robby.

You comforted your boys as they cried together, silent tears falling from your eyes. The night was far from over, but for now you were alive, and together.

And that was all that mattered.

an: oh em gee. I have been The Pitt obsessed and Noah Wyle really blew me away last week I can’t wait for Thursday. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a week and I finally got time to sit down and write!! Lmk if yall like this and I’ll see what other ideas I can crank out! Xoxo

@ebodebo @sceletaflores @yuenity

#fanfiction #writing #~Abi Writes #The Pitt #micheal robinavitch #dr robby the pitt #OH MY GOD #I LOVE THAT OLD MAN #DR ROBBY SAVE ME #dr robby x reader #I feel so bad for Jake #fanfic #Got the Jack Rabbit nickname idea bc it’s on Shawn Hatsoys door #I CRIED #anyways can’t wait for next week-ROBBY GET OFF THE ROOF #The Pitt HBO #ER #literally cracked this out TODAY

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kodaiki · 9 months ago

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┊.˚🏹 ༘┊͙ 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ; ↳ as one of the leading stars of "jujutsu kaisen," yuuji itadori shines brightly in the spotlight, captivating hearts all over; it's only obvious that he'd capture yours as well. so, in a time of utter hopelessness, believing you'd never get a chance with him without help, you turn to the person you never thought you would: his older brother.

pairing: fem!reader x sukuna tags: smau/partially written; acquaintances to lovers!au, actor!sukuna, model!reader, matchmaker!sukuna, friend!yuuji, jjk is a live-action show in this au, grumpy x sunshine dynamic, sukuna is yuuji's older brother, he’s dark and brooding, age gap (sukuna is 29 and reader is 23), fluff/angst/humor length: 1/?? note: omg next au mlist dropped,,, v much hype lol; bc yuuji and sukuna are related, itadori is his last name too! there probably will be jjk spoilers so beware! dedicated to @ilvrs bc i love her 😌😌 taglist details: will open at the conclusion of SCRIPTED HEARTS! pls don’t ask until i announce it’s open!

[disclaimer: the way the reader is portrayed is just for the reason of style/posing! this is not what the reader looks like (she should look like however you’d like her to!) just wanted to clarify!!]

COMING SOON . . .

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yumenoberu · 6 months ago

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Where Roses Bloom Series

Kyoya Ootori x fem!reader

status: UPDATING

started: 1/5/25

last updated: 1/5/25

genre: slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, coming of age, found family, fluff, drama, angst

warnings: heavy MANGA SPOILERS for some chapters (tagged)

SYNOPSIS:

Praised and respected for her poised and warm demeanor, the prestigious Ouran Host Club’s Elegant Type and sole hostess, Y/n L/n, upholds her title with rightful dignity and thanks.

Among her unconventional group of cheerful and loving friends—that are more like family, she believes she possesses everything to ever hope for.

Regrettably however, all appears to be in perfect harmony except for the mutual, blazing contempt she has for her fellow Host Club member, Kyoya Ootori—a man she rightfully loathes for his cold pragmatism, calculating cynicism, and infuriating arrogance.

Even despite their differing values and perspectives, could it be possible for the proud two to come and realize that either was never as irredeemable as they seemed—and could this understanding be the key to bringing the unlikely pair together, as friends or more?

CHAPTER LIST:

❀ -> filler

0 ➯ Prologue

1 ➯ Starting Today, You Are A Host!

2 ➯ The Job of A Highschool Host

3 ➯ Beware the Physical Exam!

4 ➯ Attack of the Lady Manager!

5 ➯ The Twins Fight!

6 ➯ The Gradeschool Host is the Naughty Type!

7 ➯ Jungle Pool SOS!

8 ➯ The Sun, the Sea, and the Host Club!

8.5 ➯ Ouran Suspense Theatre ❀

9 ➯ A Challenge from the Lobelia Girls Academy!

10 ➯ A Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family!

11 ➯ Big Brother is a Prince!

12 ➯ Covering the Famous Host Club!

13 ➯ The Hosts in Wonderland! ❀

14 ➯ Y/n in Wonderland!

15 ➯ Honey’s Three Bitter Days!

16 ➯ A Host Entertains Even in the Rain!

17 ➯ The Refreshing Battle in Karuizawa!

18 ➯ Operation Haruhi and Hikaru’s First Date!

19 ➯ The Fair, the Duel, and the King!

20 ➯ Finding the Soup of Memories!

21 ➯ Kyoya’s Reluctant Day Out!

22 ➯ Chika’s “Down With Honey” Declaration!

23 ➯ Lobelia Girls Academy Strikes Back!

24 ➯ Until the Day It Becomes a Pumpkin!

25 ➯ Mori Has an Apprentice Candidate!

26 ➯ Tamaki’s Unwitting Depression

27 ➯ In Her Loving Memory

28 ➯ Honey’s Cursed Love!

29 ➯ Love in Different Ways

30 ➯ The Host Club’s Great Divide!

31 ➯ A Debt of Kindness

More to come…

general masterlist

#kyoya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #ouran x reader #ohshc x reader #ouran highschool host club x reader #ohshc #ouran high school host club #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #slow burn #enemies to friends to lovers #coming of age #found family #fluff #drama #angst #where roses bloom series

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damn-stark · 21 days ago

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Chapter 15 You were scared, so was I

Chapter 15 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

A/N- I am moving forward past episode 7 using GAME CONTENT SO BEWARE!!

Warning- Fluff, ANGST, swearing, talks of weapons and bombs, death and violence, MAJOR SPOILERS for season 2 AND GAME, Remember this is a rewrite not an AU, so the major stuff that happens in the show will happen here :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader (platonic of course :), OC x Fem!reader

Episode- 2x07 and I am using content from the game

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

“Jimmy K.”

“Yeah, go for Jimmy K.”

“Tell your division we’re going silent, Isaac’s orders. Call your boats back. Radio silent.”

“Pull it out! I swear to God, if you don’t do it, I will.”

“Dina, hon,” you try to calm her down as she’s currently withering in pain. “I need you to stop movin’,” you plead with as much patience as you can muster, but that is wearing thin.

It’s why you’re not a doctor like your friend Mia.

“You’re only hurtin’ yourself more.”

“Alright, copy”

“It already fucking hurts!” She exclaims.

“Ok, ok,” you mutter before you tear Dina’s pants to have more access to her wound, causing her to wail out in pain.

“Don’t let me…” she trails off and starts to heave before she continues. “You can’t let me die.”

Jesse pours alcohol on your hands just like you asked before, so you take this chance to glance over at Dina to try and keep reassuring her through her distress.

Albeit Jesse cuts in before you can. “Yeah, we know.”

Dina shakes her head. “No, you don’t.”

“Listen,” you interject as softly as you can, feeling sweat produced by stress start to pamper your face. “If I pull it out, it’s gonna tear an artery. Which means that I need to push it through.”

“How do you know that?” Dina questions you. “What if it’s the wrong way?”

You shake your head as you move aside to let Jesse make his way to your side.

“It’s not,” you assure her bluntly. “I know where the arteries are.”

“No, you don’t, you’re not a doctor!”

“Dina, shut up!” Jesse interjects bluntly, making you and Dina both go still and look at him with surprise.

The rumbling thunder is the only sound that’s heard for a few seconds until Jesse realizes how he reacted and leans in to cup Dina’s face, leaving you still bewildered.

“Hey,” he says as he flips his hair back. “Dina. I got you, alright? I got you.”

After that, Jesse continues to do what he’s supposed to and bathes the arrow in alcohol before reaching Dina’s wound and making her cry louder as the strong liquid washes her wound.

“I know. I know,” Jesse keeps being kind. “I know. Have some, okay?” He says as he offers her what remains of the alcohol.

“No,” she refuses.

“It's gonna help. Have some,” he insists but she remains adamant. For some odd reason. It’s rare when Dina refuses a drink.

“Okay, Dina,” you interrupt the moment before you can waste any more time. “I’m gonna do it now, okay?” You let her know out of courtesy. You would have done it already if Jesse had been faster at disinfecting her wound and the arrow. Alas, you wrap a cloth soaked in alcohol and without hearing any protest or waiting for one, you push down hard on the arrow.

Dina screams bloody murder, but you manage to get it out in one try without needing to cause Dina more pain.

“There,” you breathe out with relief. “It’s out,” you let her know and press the same cloth against the top of her wound while Jesse grabs another cloth and presses the wound from the bottom.

Dina continues to let out labored breaths, but by the look on her face, you can see that she’s not filled with so much pain anymore.

“I imagine you know what to do now, right?” You ask and hope she doesn’t need instructions on how to take care of her wound from here on out.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says between pants, letting you whisper.

“Good.”

From there on you wait for her wound to stop bleeding before you then use your first aid to stitch up the open wound. Dina continues to cry in pain, and your tolerance only wears thinner, but thankfully, the wound isn’t big so you manage to be done quickly and finally offer her some relief by wrapping her wound.

“You need to rest,” you tell Dina as you clean your hands.

“But, Ellie—”

“We’ll wait for her and if she doesn’t make it back by dawn I’ll go after her myself, don’t worry, okay? I’m here now.” You say and offer her a small smile before you finish cleaning your hands and then get up to try and make a bed for her.

However, as Dina sees your attempts she interrupts you. “There’s,” she pauses and swallows thickly. “There’s a dressing room by the stage. I’ll go there. There’s a bigger couch there,” she says and darts her gaze down. You follow her line of gaze and see her stealing a glance at Jesse before she hastily looks at you again. “Please help me there.”

You glance at Jesse and wonder if he offended her by screaming at her earlier, but you don’t actually question it. You just agree and help her off the couch before you then help her to her destination in silence as all her attention is on walking with one leg and dragging the other.

When you eventually reach the changing room you’re caught in complete awe by how beautiful it is inside with the large vanity and the bright lights around it, all the posters of past plays and old movies, and pictures of the cast and famous actors.

“I knew you’d like it,” Dina mutters as she plops herself on the couch with a deep breath.

There’s even a small kitchen and an empty closet that was probably once filled with gorgeous costumes.

“I wish I could take this entire room home,” you whisper as you put down the empty bowl you brought with you and then shrug off your coat before mindlessly approaching Dina, settling herself on the couch.

“I’m pregnant,” Dina suddenly announces, making your eyes go wide before you slowly look at her with disbelief.

“What?” You gasp and feign a laugh. “Are you…joking?”

She shakes her head and her face once again fills with fear. Albeit this time her fear is different. It’s more deeply rooted in her heart than any physical wound that would soon disappear with time. This fear is stressful and aching, which answers your question that she’s in fact not joking.

“Oh, Dina,” you whisper and sit at her side as you offer her all your unwavering attention and kindness without so much as hesitation.

“It's not Ellie’s” she musters a joke, making you smile softly in amusement.

“I’m assuming the father doesn’t know,” you keep things serious as you’re now more worried about her.

“No.” She shakes her head. “He doesn’t. He won’t know until we’re back in Jackson so he doesn’t worry or get angrier. He’s already so mad.”

You sigh. “Yeah, it's been quite a day for us. For all of us, so, just try and ignore it and let him be. He’ll be back to his serious self when we’re away from Seattle.”

“What if I don’t make it out of Seattle?” Dina asks, sounding quite unlike herself. She’s usually so confident and brave, but now she tears at your heart as you hear her sound so scared and vulnerable.

“What if my baby—”

“Don’t talk like that,” you cut her off to try and ease her fear. “You and your baby will make it back to Jackson.”

Dina drops her head and sniffles. “Don’t tell Ellie or Jesse, but…I’m scared. I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m terrified of everything about it. I just…I'm such a burden now.”

You reach over to grab her hands and quickly shake your head. “No. No, you are not a burden. These things can’t be helped and maybe yes, you’ve put yourself at risk by being here, but you’re not a burden. And it's not like you knew before, did you?”

She shakes her head. “No. Not until our first day here.”

“See? You didn’t even know. And we’re all here to look out after each other. That’s why we came after you, so never think that way again,” you press hard, making her nod in comprehension and add nothing else on the matter, so you get to address her fear.

“And it’s normal to be scared, okay? It’s not the same as before. We don’t have everything that the old world used to offer, but you will make it. It’ll hurt. I won’t lie and tell you it won’t because it will, but oh,” you muse as you remember having your baby. “Will it be worth it when you see them for the first time. You will know unconditional love when you hold them for the first time too.”

Dina slowly looks up at you at the sound of your words, so you gently squeeze her hand and offer her a sweeter smile.

“And everything will change,” you let her know. “In different ways than they changed for me, even now as the baby is growing inside you, but you will be okay. Your baby is going to be okay and in a few months, in Jackson, you will meet for the first time.”

Dina smiles tenderly as tears roll down her cheeks.

“I will be there. Ellie and Jesse and everyone you want there will be with you, okay? You’re not alone so don’t be scared to come to me with any questions or fears,” you let her know as you lean closer. “Maria is there to help too.”

Dina nods gently and before you can let her be you continue more seriously now.

“When you have your baby,” you grab her attention. “There’s nothing in the world that you wouldn’t do for them and sometimes that means being selfish. Do you understand? You and the baby come first and that’s completely okay.”

Dina seems to be confused but also completely understands what you’re saying.

“I love Ellie, that’s why I’m here risking my life,” you answer her confusion. “I almost didn’t come. Apollo didn’t want me to come because it’s not the same as before, not because we’re married, but because of Theo. He needs me just as much as he needs his dad. But I need him to know that there’s some trips worth taking.”

Dina swallows thickly and queries. “How do you know what trips are worth taking when someone is depending on you to stay alive?”

You sigh and answer honestly. “You’ll know. You won’t doubt or need to ask when you know. Trust me.”

She nods as she takes your advice, so you then gently caress her knuckles before you bring an end to the matter. “Sleep, Dina. You need to be strong for that baby. We’ll let Ellie know where to find you when she gets here, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers in agreement.

You put your jacket over her and then get up to leave the room and join Jesse.

“Is she okay?” He asks right away, so without giving anything away, you assure him about her.

“She’s okay. She’s just sleeping now. Don’t worry, she’ll be okay.”

He nods slowly and then adds. “And Ellie? Should we go after her?”

You draw out a deep breath as you sit on the couch and shake your head. “No. We have to trust she’ll be okay. If she doesn’t make it back by dawn, I'll go look for her.”

“Alright…well, in that case, rest. I’ll keep an eye out on things here.”

You debate his suggestion, but now that you’re sitting down, your exhaustion hits you and you can’t fight it or his suggestion, so you sleep without much choice on the matter. And so, for the first time since your dad died, you don’t go back to that lodge. You’re home.

You’re in Jackson, back in your little house with the sun shining down just perfectly over a long set table.

Rather than having people missing, every seat is occupied. Apollo and Theo are on your right side, your Uncle Tommy, Maria, and Benji are on your left side, and past them. Past your own family is Jesse, Dina, and her baby with Ellie beside them trying to make the baby laugh with her silly jokes. Albeit she can’t manage to find the perfect one, she just happens to make you smile from so afar, so she keeps trying tirelessly, making you that more blissful.

Yet, nothing makes you happier than the very image of your dad with Sarah. Seeing her is a reminder that this is all a dream, but what a beautiful dream it is because you see them so vividly again and again.

As your surroundings vanish and turn to every place you stopped at on your way to Seattle, you see them as if they were still alive outside of this dream.

You see them in the theater too, you’re on stage and they’re in the seats listening to some stupid tall story attentively. They’re so clear and so beautiful that you wake up thinking that they’ll be there waiting for you to wake up, but when you open your eyes you see Ellie and Jesse packing their backpacks.

“Ellie,” you gasp as your grogginess is swiftly pushed away at the sight of her with all her limbs intact, and a beating heart.

“About time,” she mutters as she spares you a glance. “Hurry up and get ready if you want to leave with us to meet up with Tommy.”

You blink in disbelief at her bluntness and complete carelessness as if you didn’t just hold unresolved tension between the two of you.

“Are you okay? When did you get back? Why didn’t you wake me up?” You direct that last question at Jesse.

“She—”

“I told him not to,” Ellie interrupts him. “You looked tired and I know that because you have a tell, so I told him not to bother, it’s not like I came in missing an arm or anything.”

You scoff in disbelief and argue. “But I was still worried.”

At the sound of that, she looks up and shoots you a pointed look. “You were sleeping. How worried could you have been?”

“Only because if I had to go and look for you I couldn’t go on no sleep,” you quickly snap back. “Ellie—”

“I’m okay,” she cuts you off. “I came back. Just like I said, so stop worrying. Now get ready or you’re staying back with Dina.”

You and Jesse share a look before you get off the couch and go off on your own to use the restroom and change into…clothes you weren’t wearing yesterday and a tactical poncho. You wish you could have a warm breakfast, but you start eating your second-to-last granola bar as you pack what you need.

“Jesse, did you sleep?” You ask the man who was up as long as you were. “Ellie and I can go after my Uncle if you haven’t.”

Jesse nods stiffly as he slides over more bullets for your revolver. “I slept enough. Don’t worry about me.”

You hum with discontent, but there’s no winning him so you take the bullets and reload your revolver before you put the rest of the bullets in a little pouch on your holster.

“I have one more granola,” you announce. “Who wants it? You might have to fight for it.” You snicker as you show it off, gaining Ellie’s attention.

“Granola? Where did you get granola? I thought you snuck out?” Ellie questions you with confusion.

“Yeah, but surprise, I had a secret cache hidden past Jackson.”

Ellie’s jaw drops and she looks at you bewildered. “What? How come I didn’t know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You focus back on your backpack and hit her with the truth. “Well, we knew that you’d empty it the first chance you got, so my dad and I kept it a secret. We were gonna tell you if the situation called for it.”

Ellie gasps and looks at you with her face contorted in utter disbelief. “What? That’s so unfair!”

You snap your eyes up and counter. “You went to an infected-infested town for guitar strings instead of going to anyone in town because you said that you needed to feel alive again, and a town life was too mundane. Which was total bullshit.” You mutter, making her gape as she can’t find the right argument to use against you because you are in fact right.

“Exactly,” you whisper and continue packing. “Now here,” you say and throw her a blade sharpener for her switchblade. “Your blade must be dull and I know you didn’t bring yours.”

Ellie catches what you threw and stays quiet for a moment before she whispers. “No. I thought of everything but that. Thanks.”

You hum and pull out a stuffed cowboy that you had found Teddy that has a working pull string to make it talk. “Look. For Teddy. This movie used to be my favorite when I was a little girl.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it,” Jesse says as he takes a glance at you. “He’s at the age now is he not? Where he likes toys that make noise?”

You nod. “Yeah, they reach that age pretty quickly, but he’ll be able to work this now.” You say with a smile, catching both Jesse and Ellie watching attentively, but looking away when you notice them.

You’re positive Ellie knows about Dina. You didn’t ask, but you don’t see why she wouldn’t tell Ellie. As for Jesse? Well, he’s smart but he couldn’t have figured it out yet could he?

Either way, you admire the cowboy toy for a moment longer as you think about how much you miss your son, and how your dad liked to call him cowboy.

You only don’t cry because you hear Ellie turn on the walkie.

“Don’t waste your time,” you interject. “I heard them say that they were going radio silent. For who knows how long.”

“Well that’s inconvenient," she grumbles.

“Yeah,” you agree as you put the toy away. “But we’ll manage. Stick to the shadows and keep our eyes open. How was the underground? Useful?”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Infested. We’ll get no luck there—wait. How did you know we were underground?”

Without looking over you give her a dismissive response. “Long story. We’ll tell you later.”

“Okay,” she breathes out before you hear something rattle where she is. “Do any of you have any extra nine-millimeter?” Ellie asks.

Before you can offer her some, Jesse throws her some bullets without saying anything.

“Thanks.”

The auditorium doors proceed to open and out comes Dina.

“You shouldn’t be on your feet yet,” you tell her with concern as you watch her struggle to walk and drag her injured leg.

“I’ll go back to the couch in a second,” she brushes you off with a heavy breath. “I promise.”

You sigh but finish packing.

“Give me your wrist,” you then hear Dina say to Ellie, making you peer over—“the other one,” she says and makes Ellie change arms.

When Ellie eventually sees Dina taking her bracelet off, she stands on her feet to let Dina put it on.

“It's for good luck,” Dina lets Ellie know.

“Not sure it’s been working for you,” Ellie quips, making you smile as you zip up your backpack and then stand up to swing it on.

“I’m alive,” Dina rebuttals, leaving Ellie quiet, but causing Jesse to cut in.

“Ellie doesn’t have to go if you want her to stay.”

“No,” Dina doesn’t hesitate to respond.

Jesse zips up his backpack and gets up before Ellie adds on. “We’ll be safer as a group of three.”

“Our rendezvous point is not far,” Jesse lets both girls know. “Assuming Tommy’s there, we should be back well before sundown.”

“So be ready to leave,” you chime in. “We’ll probably leave at night or dawn. I don't know, but the sooner we're out of this city the better.”

“Okay, good,” Dina agrees.

“You okay to barricade?” Jesse asks.

“Yeah. Go.”

“Yeah,” he whispers and you can’t take any more of this angst so you go to the door to start moving what’s barricading it.

Once you’re outside you let out a sigh of relief, but you’re not rid of that weird tension Ellie and Jesse hold, making you once again glad that your friend group didn’t date each other.

“It’s very quiet over in this part of town,” you point out as you scan the area you’re walking through to make sure you don’t get surprised like last time. “I wonder why, considering this place is fucking hell.”

“Whatever the reason,” Jesse interjects. “It better stay this way. With Dina injured, we’ll be slower to get out.”

You nod stiffly. “Yeah, maybe one of us should’ve gone back to get our horses. Where did you leave Shimmer, Ellie?”

Said girl looks up completely surprised that you’re addressing her and takes a moment of silence before answering. “A music store. It’s not close but not far either. Where’s yours?”

You smile back at her. “Music store. They sold a lot of cool records and CDs. It makes me bummed that I can’t take it all home.” You groan and drag your feet. “It’s all left collecting dust here. If only Apollo was here he’d carry my stuff and I’d carry all the junk I can carry.”

Jesse chuckles. “We’ll be home soon enough and you’ll get to impress him with that ancient ring.”

You grin and hold your backpack straps. “Yeah. He’s gonna love it.”

“Well, if he was here he’d be leading the way that’s for sure. He’s a fucking wizard with mapping.”

You sigh. “Yeah, he really is. That’s why he was the leader of our little group. He was the leader, Mia was the mother and doctor. I was the fighter and herbologist, and Atlas…well, he was the hunter. Kinda. He was fighting with us. Making everything just a little funnier.”

Jesse looks back at you with a smirk. “I found this old recording of a basketball game. We’ll have to have a barbecue to watch it.”

You sigh softly. “That’ll be lovely. I can leave Teddy with my,” you pause as you realize that in your casual conversation, you almost said Dad. He was always eager to take care of Teddy that you hardly ever considered having someone else take care of him. He was always your go-to and now…

“Well,” you clear your throat. “With someone.”

Jesse catches the solemn look in your eyes and leaves the conversation at that, leading the group to an awkward silence that lasts some time.

You don’t come up with anything to say as you’re overcome with grief and whilst your time on the road Jesse knows that when your grief plagues you he nor your uncle can help you out of its clutches.

“Where’s the rendezvous?” Ellie asks to try and break the tension.

“The bookstore,” Jesse is quite curt, so to try and make amends you give her more than just that, which is quite literally nothing since this city must be filled with them.

“It’s not far from here. It has a broken sign which makes it easy to spot.”

Ellie hums and then mutters. “Good.”

You answer with silence so she piles on. “Are you guys ever gonna tell me how you found the theater?”

“You ever gonna tell me what happened last night?” Jesse avoids her question and rather than answering it for the both of you, you listen because you’re curious too considering she didn’t come in right after you.

Albeit Ellie doesn’t answer, so Jesse finally answers her question “We followed the likeliest path into the city. Got ambushed by some W.L.F. and to make the story short, she pressed somebody for information on trespassers, and that’s how we found the theater.”

‘Pressed them’ is being too kind, you quite literally tortured the guy, but you don’t want to share that right now, so you don’t comment on it.

“Oh, you make it sound easy,” Ellie retorts lightheartedly, but Jesse doesn’t share that same emotion. He snaps back as if scolding her.

“We both almost died and we got chased by a gun car.”

“But we made it out,” you add so Ellie doesn’t feel bad. “And that led us to finding you and Dina.”

You peer over and find Ellie’s gaze and see her nod gently before she expresses her genuine gratitude. “Thank you. I mean it, honestly.”

“We-I would do it again, so don’t worry about it,” you assure her, earning a tiny but soft smile that at last lets you see her relief for having you here and risking your life to come after her halfway across the country.

If only she could get the same reassurance from Jesse, but he keeps averting his gaze, making Ellie press on.

“Look, I know you’re angry—”

“Last night,” Jesse interrupts her and brings the group to a stop to turn swiftly and face Ellie to continue. “Dina said, ‘I can’t die.’ Not, ‘I don’t want to die.’ ‘I can’t,” he quotes. “And then I offered her whiskey, and she refused. Dina, the girl who’s never turned down a free drink in her life seconds before we were gonna push a crossbow bolt through her leg.”

You turn slowly assuming that he was gonna ask what you know and get confirmation that Ellie also knows because of her shitty poker face.

“That’s weird, I don’t why she—”

“Yes, you do,” Jesse cuts her off as he also sees that she’s lying because she can’t fucking lie apparently.

“I’m not stupid and I’m not blind,” Jesse continues. “Ellie, I see the way you two look at each other. It’s different now. Yeah,” he sighs. “And I bet she even tells you things she wouldn’t tell me. Like how she’s pregnant.”

Since you’re behind Jesse you shake your head hoping Ellie doesn’t fall for his trap, but she stares at him for a moment and then gives it away.

“Fuck,” she mutters and Jesse finally figures out that he’s in fact right.

“Oh, shit,” Ellie realizes the truth. “You were guessing? Oh, God.”

“Look,” you cut in and step in front of Ellie just in case Jesse gets ballsy and tries to blame Ellie for not telling him. “She’s gonna tell you—”

“You know too?” Jesse asks as his gaze turns to you.

“Yes,” you nod. “She told me last night and she said that she’s gonna tell you when we get to Jackson, so leave her be and don’t be overbearing. She doesn’t want to be anybody’s burden, so don’t treat her like that the moment we get back, understood? Her emotions are already going to be all over the place; she doesn’t need you stressing her out.”

He clenches his jaw and challenges your narrowed gaze, but he does have more respect for you so he agrees. “Fine.”

“Good,” you whisper and step away from Ellie. Albeit instead of continuing forward, she interjects.

“None of this has to change things between us—”

“Everything changing doesn’t have to change things?” Jesse retorts, making you warn him.

“Jesse.”

However, he ignores you this time and presses Ellie.

“Well, how ‘bout this for something new? I’m gonna be a father, which means I can’t die. But because of you, we’re stuck in a war zone. So, how ‘bout we skip the apologies and just go find Tommy so I can get us and my kid the fuck outta Seattle?” He spats and tries to walk away but you stand your ground and argue back.

“But the truth is you didn’t have to come, Jesse,” you say, making said man stop and look at you with confusion—“No one forced you. You found the letter and decided to join. You were gonna leave without me with my Uncle Tommy, so either stop being mad at Ellie for a choice you made, and let’s work together, or let’s make this trip so much more difficult by being at odds with one another. Your choice.”

Jesse tilts his chin up and clenches his jaw, but he doesn’t argue. He knows you’re right, so he just nods and turns away to continue leading the way, leaving you and Ellie lagging behind to look at one another.

“Are you okay?” You ask referring more to last night than anything else.

“Yes,” she answers bluntly, but softly as she’s still taken aback by Jesse’s sudden outburst.

“We’re all just stressed. Let him cool down and you’ll be back to being friends, okay?”

She exhales deeply and nods before moving after him, leaving you to watch her get ahead a couple of steps before you follow too.

Soon thereafter you walk out to a big street that’s quite lonely with the only evidence of life being the big portrait of a lady with the words, ‘feel her love’ painted under the portrait.

“There’s more than one of her?” Ellie asks and you look away from the painting to shake your head at her.

“No,” you assume from what you’ve seen scattered about the city. “Same lady. She just has a lot of followers. Apparently."

“We need to move faster,” Jesse interjects as the sky rumbles in the distance, threatening to bring the storm over.

So, in attempts to outrun the approaching storm, you quicken your pace toward the bookstore. Nevertheless, before you can reach it it starts to rain like someone is dumping rain over you, so you end up running to a garage for cover.

“Please tell me we’re close,” Ellie says after a heavy breath.

“About two more blocks,” you let her know as you hang your rifle over your shoulder.

“Let’s give it a minute,” Jesse inputs. “See if it dies down and then we’ll—”

Before he can finish, the sound of a gunshot nearby makes him go quiet and makes you all duck and then run towards some dumpsters in the dark depths of the garage.

“You’re fucking dead, Scar!” You hear someone shout before someone else shouts

“Nowhere to run!”

You push Ellie behind the dumpster as Jesse leads the way, and then you crouch by the end of the dumpster to be able to peek over as the group of people run into the same garage.

“Get on the ground!” A W.L.F soldier says as they come after a young guy who seems to be part of that weird cult.

“The world is not in balance,” the young guy begins to chant. “But I’ve done my part to right it—”

“How did you get past our line?” A W.L.F soldier begins to interrogate the young guy but gets no answer, so he presses. “How?!”

“The world is not in balance. But I have done my part to right it. She has led me through the storm. Now I must rest. May she guide me.”

The soldier approaches the chanting guy and says something you can’t hear.

“May she guide me. May she guide me—”

The soldier then stops the guy's chanting by hitting him with the butt end of his gun, causing the guy to fall on the ground with a scream, and making you grow uncomfortable.

“Get his clothes off,” the soldier orders, making the guy start to protest, and causing Ellie to grab your arm to pull and grab your attention. When you give it to her she points her eyes forward and without a need for a further explanation, you shake your head to deny her crazy request to help the guy.

“Wait! Wait! No!” The guy screams as the soldiers rip his clothes off, making it harder for you to stomach.

“Stop it! Get off of me!”

Ellie hears the guy’s pleas and suddenly gets up to go help, but you grab her wrist and yank her back down.

“No!” You mouth sharply, making her gaze narrow and fill with an angry fire.

“Stop!

“Come on, you little piece of shit!”

“Drag him!”

“Fucking go!”

You stop peeking over and just wait with inability to block them out.

“Let’s fucking go!”

“Let’s go! Go!”

Once the soldiers drag the guy away and are no longer heard near the garage, Ellie rips her wrist from your hold and gets up to stomp away, making Jesse now interfere. “Ellie.”

You get up quickly after Jesse, but you jog after Ellie to grab her arm to stop her from exposing you.

“Stop!” You hiss, making her swiftly spin around and retort.

“What?!”

“There are six of them and three of us,” you tell her. “What do you think would’ve happened?”

“He’s a fucking kid!” She spats back.

You let go of her and nod. “Yes, but these people are shooting each other, lynching each other, and ripping each other's guts out. That’s not to add that we’re trespassers in this fuckin’ city. They have orders to shoot us on sight! This is not our fight. We cannot risk our lives for any of them…You know that.”

Ellie steps back and her shoulders fall as she realizes the truth behind your words.

“Now, let’s go. We have to get my uncle to get out before we’re caught in the crossfire,” you order and walk away to continue your path to the bookstore without feeling remorse.

You can’t. There are some fights you can join, but others you have to ignore and this is one of them. You’ve been taught better…

——

*LATER*

Finally, after a lot of tracking through the rain-puddle-infested streets, you reach the library, but your uncle isn’t there.

“Damn it,” you whisper and only feel a knot in your stomach as you grow concerned.

It seems that by the blankets and the clutter around a couch, he was here earlier, but he left. Maybe he got caught?

No. No…that can’t be…

“Is that his shit?” Ellie asks.

You go up to the couch and grab the blanket to take a sniff. When you recognize that it smells like your uncle, you give her clarification. “Yeah.” You sigh and take a look around at all the clutter, finding a lot of this stuff useful for something small yet powerful.

“Alright,” Ellie adds. “So if he’s not here…”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Jesse fills her silence as he finishes boarding the door and then goes to grab a shelf. “He’ll make it back.”

“Well, what if he’s in trouble?” Ellie asks and makes you worry more.

“What if?” Jesse retorts as he pushes the shelf against the door. “He is in trouble. We’re all in trouble. Here we are again. You and me in bad fuckin’ weather.”

You look over and see that he’s solely directing that at Ellie so you don’t butt in this time. You just leave him be.

Instead, you grab what you need to make a makeshift bomb. When Ellie catches what you’re doing, as you wait for your uncle to come to the bookstore, she walks over to watch what you’re doing.

“In all our time together I’ve never seen you make a bomb. Who taught you?” She asks as she takes notes of every ingredient and step.

“I learned when I was a Firefly. They had the younger members make them. We weren’t as equipped as the military, so we made do with scraps.”

Ellie keeps her eyes on your hands with a long frown and a distant look, so you stop doing what you were doing and get something off your chest. “I did want to give you a choice that day. I don’t know if that’s worth anything, but I did want to give you that choice, but…Marlene and the rest of the Fireflies didn’t want to risk it, and my dad…well, you know what he did.”

Ellie gently hits her knuckles against the table and nods softly before she mutters. “You should have told me.”

You nod. “I know. You know why I didn't, but you know…all this time on the road has led me to know one thing, and that’s the fact that if I had a choice between telling you or not. I would choose the same thing every time because you were happy.” You say softly but with confidence so she knows you’re serious about your choice.

Ellie realizes that. She sees that as a fact and takes a shaky breath as she meets your gaze with a small wobbly smile.

“Finish it,” you say and nudge the bomb toward her. “I’ll talk you through every step of the way,” you tell her, making her wipe away a tear and smirk as she gladly takes over.

You continue to make three more bombs because that’s all the materials you have and then you wait.

In your wait, you see Ellie looking over kid books and specifically picking up a Sesame Street one, so you interject. “That’s a good one,” you praise as you walk by to sit on a chair under the dome that’s in the kid section of the store.

“Picked a good one,” Jesse also praises. “I should have thought of that.”

“Listen, about me and her,” Ellie says back. “I don’t really know what to say.”

Jesse stops her by raising his hand before she can go on and interjects. “Right now, we got a lot of problems. Like a wounded pregnant girl. Maybe Tommy’s dead…”

You snap your eyes over to him and shoot him a pointed look.

“Maybe we’ll be dead,” Jesse says morbidly as he walks over to sit on a big plastic red and white mushroom that decorates the kid section.

“So, let me at least just get this one off the table,” he continues. “Yes, I love her. But not the way you do,” he pauses and sighs before he goes on. “Remember that group that stopped by Jackson for a few weeks on their way south to Mexico?”

“Uh, from Alberta?” Ellie asks as she takes a seat across from Jesse. “Yeah, they had some decent shit to trade.”

“There was this girl with them,” Jesse shares. “She was a couple years older than me. I don’t know if you remember. She was selling paintings, like landscapes and shit.”

“Were they good?”

Jesse shakes his head. “No. I bought four of ‘em.”

You snort and Ellie chuckles.

“That fuckin’ feeling,” Jesse continues. “When you’re falling for someone and they’re falling right back.”

“Hm,” Ellie hums and you smile softly as you remember Henry.

“So what happened?” Ellie asks for the both of you.

“Best two weeks of my life,” Jesse shares. “But she couldn’t stay. Didn’t want to abandon her family like that. So, she asked me to go with them instead. And I wanted to.” He says. “More than anything.”

“But?” You probe.

“I didn't because the people of Jackson took me in, raised me, cared for me. Because everyone there is counting on me to be the next Maria. Because I was taught to put other people first.”

You sigh and get up as he now makes this whole thing weird again.

“Okay,” Ellie rolls out as she also senses the same thing. “Got it. So, you’re Saint Jesse of Wyoming and everyone else is a fucking asshole.”

“You can make fun of me all you want,” Jesse says. “But let me ask you this, Ellie. I go with that girl to Mexico, who saves your ass in Seattle?” He asks and you’re about to say that you would come, but before you can, you hear voices coming from the radio followed by distant gunshots.

“Under fire! I repeat! We are under fire. Under fire. Southlake Marina. Sniper, not a Scar!”

It’s your uncle. It’s gotta be!

“Unidentified—Goddammit!”

They exclaim through their walkie, making you take your map out to look for the location they said.

“Two of us pinned down. We need backup!”

Another person screams through the walkie.

“No radios. Repeat.”

“Sniper,” Jesse repeats as he rushes over to look at the map you extend on the nearby table.

“It’s gotta be my uncle,” you say hopefully and drag your finger along the map until you find the spot.

“This is South Lake,” you mention. “There’s two piers right here.” You point. “It’s gotta be one of them. We’ll find high ground on the way there to make the way clear, so pack your stuff.” You say quickly as you fold the map and shove it back in your pocket to rush over to grab your things.

Once the others have their things on them again, you move out, making sure to be as discreet as you can while also running to the highest spot which is a leaning tower with a floor missing most of its wall. However, it does leave a perfect view of the marina and the rest of the sinking city so you don't mind, but you now realize how much the water has taken from the city.

Is that what the two sides are fighting for? A sinking city?

Nevertheless, while you’re looking in the distance, trying to find where your uncle might be, the sound of distant gunshots points the way.

“Do you guys hear that?” You ask enthusiastically. “It’s in the right direction.”

“I don’t see an easy way through,” Jesse points out. “But if he got there it means we can too.”

You nod. “Yeah, and I’m sure that with all his shooting he’s making it easier. We just have to be careful.”

“Ellie,” Jesse calls out after you’re done.

“The wheel,” Ellie whispers, grabbing your attention. “The whale.”

You slowly churn your head to look at her confused. “What?” You ask.

“She’s in the fucking aquarium!” Ellie exclaims, leaving you and Jesse more confused.

“Who?” Jesse asks for clarification.

“Abby,” she says and clears all the confusion from your mind—“the one who killed Joel. She’s in the aquarium. It’s too far to swim. We need a boat.”

It’s not even passing by where your uncle is. It’s on the other side.

“What are you talking about?” Jesse queries, making Ellie stop in her tracks just as she was turning away.

“What?” She asks.

“No, Tommy’s over there,” Jesse points over to where the gunshots keep coming from. “That’s where we’re going.”

You step back into the shadows of the tilting room as you see a rift and a choice that will need to be made soon.

“You don’t know that’s him,” Ellie argues.

“Yes, we do,” Jesse counters, making Ellie only keep arguing with denial.

“We don’t. And even if it is, he’s got them pinned down.”

“For now. They called for backup.”

“Then, he'll pin more of them down. I know him. He would want me to do this.”

You swallow thickly and glance over at where the gunshots are coming from and debate; do you want to go after Tommy, or follow Ellie?

Ellie’s the reason you came all the way to Seattle. You wouldn’t have risked your life if she wasn’t here in the first place.

But your uncle…is the last piece of your family. He’s home. The reminder that you’re not alone. He is the one you love the most, but Ellie…

If she dies then all this would be for nothing. What your dad died for would be for nothing. Plus he loved her and she saved him from himself. You owe her so much and you love her so deeply…losing her would be like…losing Sarah all over again.

“And Jesus Christ, if three more people had voted with you, you’d be coming with me,” Ellie argues.

“I voted no,” Jesse reveals after a deep breath.

“Why?” She whispers in disbelief.

“Because everything you do, you do for you,” Jesse says, making you step forward with shock.

“Oh, my god,” Ellie gasps.

“Ellie.”

“Oh, my god.”

“Ellie,” Jesse insists. “It wasn’t in the best interest of the community.”

“Fuck the community!” Ellie blurts, catching you off guard. “All you do is talk about the fucking community. You hypocrite. You think you’re good and I’m bad? You let a kid die today, Jesse. Because why? He wasn’t in your community?” She argues shakily as she trudges towards him. “Let me tell you about my community. My community was beaten to death in front of me while I was forced to fucking watch. So, don’t look at me like you’re better than me or like you’d do anything differently if you were in my shoes, because you’re not and you wouldn’t,” she finishes as another gunshot goes off.

“I really hope you make it,” Jesse mutters that last thing before he walks off expecting you to follow. When he doesn’t hear you going after him he turns around to face you with disbelief.

However, without explanation, you tell him one thing. “Tell my uncle where we are. You don’t need to come. Just let him know. Be careful.”

Jesse nods stiffly and storms away, asking for nothing else because you staying says more than anything words could have said.

Now, after he’s gone, it’s just you and Ellie left. Not because you want to go after Abby, but because you want to protect her and make sure she doesn’t die. Just like your dad would do and the reason you came.

Albeit she doesn’t seem to understand that. She faces you in an attempt to look unbothered.

“You should catch up to him while you can. I can do this alone,” she says.

You nod. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s true, but I didn’t come here for my uncle. I came here for you, so if you’re going after Abby, I’ll tag along. Not to get revenge, but to help you.”

Ellie walks towards you and then stops as if she finally understands what you’re saying. “Why? Why aren’t you angry at any of them for what they did? For what they put you through?”

You scan the scenery behind her and let out a deep sigh before you shrug. “I already told you. There’s no point in being angry. He’s…gone and no amount of anger will bring him back. I,” you begin to stammer. “I haven’t moved on. I haven’t forgotten, but last night was the first time I didn’t see him getting tortured. I-I was home and he was there…and you were too. You were happy…with Dina and her baby.”

Ellie drops her head and you walk to her to grab her shoulder.

“I know when we get back he won’t be there, but I will. Dina will. My uncle. It will still hurt, trust me. I know, but together,” you say and smile. “Maybe we can grieve together and keep living for him. That’s what he would want. That’s what I want for you.”

Ellie takes a few deep breaths and her eyes tear up so you embrace her tightly, showing every bit of joy and relief to see her alive and well.

Ellie feels your embrace. She feels the comfort of your arms and smells a part of him in you, but that’s not what makes her cry. It’s everything else that makes her shoulders shake, letting you see a part of herself that she still has yet to show Dina.

“Let's do this last thing and go home, okay?” You whisper and feel her nod, so you pull away and cup her cheeks to wipe away her tears before wiping yours and moving on.

With the storm having rolled in, any speck of clarity that the sun provided was soon shoved away by the night quickly rolling in, so when you find a boat and head towards the aquarium, it’s like you're going there blind.

The flashlights are useless because you can only see each other's faces, and the occasional light of thunder isn't enough to guide you through any potentially dangerous waves that may rise due to the storm and the fucking pouring rain.

Thankfully, no wave turned your boat over. You imagine there were many close calls because your boat rocked like fucking crazy and you were soaked by the first wave that you passed over, but you didn’t fall over and made it to the aquarium's dock without dying.

“Here take my hand,” you urge Ellie after you climbed on the slippery dock first.

Once she’s standing on her feet you both try to search the area for any way to get in, but with the flashlight not really working outside, you don’t spot any. However, Ellie does.

“Up there,” she points to a fire escape you hadn’t spotted since you looked for a door or a big window.

“I’ll follow your lead,” you say and let her take over much to her surprise.

No matter what you said she still thought you’d lead the way, but you didn’t, and she doesn’t question it either.

You follow Ellie’s lead up to the roof, and up that fire escape that lets you spot a broken sunroof that lets in the rain and you.

When you're going inside, however, you do jump in first just in case there are people inside.

Thankfully though, there isn’t. There’s just sleeping bags, evidence that people have been here. So after drying your weapons and taking off your jackets, you continue to creep through the halls, hoping to not run into anyone, but also hoping to find the right person.

The further you walk in, the more you see Ellie grow impatient, by the way, her breathing gets faster, and her shoulders get stiffer. You even start thinking of what to tell Ellie when you don't find any sign of who she’s looking for, but in all your searching you finally come across a medical room that’s recently been used.

“Recent,” you sign to Ellie as you take note of all the bloody bandages on the metal table.

“What the hell?” Ellie signs back as she notes the saws, the bloody knife, and all kinds of different equipment that you need to clean after a bloody scene such as the one you walked into.

“Better not linger,” you say, making her take one last hard look at the bloody scene before she continues to lead the way through the dark halls of the aquarium, running into nothing, but coming across evidence that the aquarium has been kept up.

Under normal circumstances, you would have loved it here, but right now, you’re more terrified than afraid.

You don’t want to die…

Either way, eventually you find wet footprints leading to a hall and Ellie doesn’t even think before she follows them, leading you to a dark hall that finally has something waiting for you at the end; warm light, and the sound of people talking—no arguing.

“…for her,” you identify a female voice saying. “So don’t make me sound like I’m being some kind of heartless bitch. I’m not. And let’s be honest. This isn’t about them anyways, Owen.”

Your eyes widen and you turn to Ellie as you now walk alongside her, and nod to give her the sign that this is them.

“You’re talking about being behind enemy lines alone at night,” you hear the girl say and when you’re about to round the corner, you see Mel.

“This is suicide under normal circumstances,” Mel continues to go on. “And you want to do this now? Do you even understand what’s going on?”

“I understand everything,” Owen argues. “But I don’t have a choice, do I? It’s Abby.”

You swallow thickly and look back to Ellie, noticing her eyes widen and darken at the mention of her name.

“Of course, you have a choice,” Mel counters. “And so do I. And I am choosing no, also because it’s Abby.”

“Fine, I’ll do it on my own,” Owen says. “Like always. I can make it there and back in 30. If you’re still here, you can get on board and keep going with us. If you’re not, you’re not.”

You scowl at his comment.

“Fuck you, Owen,” Mel retorts and starts to walk away, but then before she can get far, Ellie walks out, stopping Mel in her tracks.

“Hands up,” Ellie commands as she walks out of the shadows.

When Owen sees Ellie, you slowly make your way out behind her with your rifle pointed at Owen.

“Where’s Abby?” Ellie demands to know without any bullshit.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Owen mutters as he looks between you and Ellie. “O-Okay. Easy,” he says as he puts his hands up and steps back, leaving Mel shielded behind him.

“I’m the one who kept you both alive, right?” He brings up as if that changes anything.

“Yeah, while my dad was being beaten to death.” You spat. “Thank fuckin’ you.”

You cock your gun and Ellie follows.

“We don't know where she is,” Owen answers Ellie’s question as she slowly creeps forward and you trudge behind her.

“You were just talking about her, so, yes, you fucking do,” Ellie points out, but neither of them say anything, so Ellie looks over her shoulder.

“Map,” she says bluntly, so you pull out your map and hand it to her so she can unfold it as she holds it down.

“You.” She points at Mel with her gun. “Come here. You’re gonna point to where Abby is, and then you’re gonna do it, and it better fucking match,” she says as she points to Owen, making him look back at Mel heaving and debating.

“You have five seconds,” Ellie says as she moves closer and doesn’t let them think. “Four.”

“She’s gonna kill us either way,” Owen says to which Ellie quickly rebuttals.

“No, I won’t. Because I’m not like you.”

“Just do it,” you grumble. “And we’ll let you go.”

“Three.”

Owen looks back at Mel and they exchange looks.

“Two,” Ellie says and Mel moves, but Owen quickly stops her and interjects.

“I—I’ll do it. I’ll do it,” he insists. “I’ll show you.”

“Slowly,” you command as you lock your aim on him.

“S-slowly,” Owen repeats and looks back at Mel one more time before he moves toward the table.

However, instead of reaching for the map, his hand reaches down and he grabs the gun.

Ellie notices and lunges forward.

Owen gets his gun and turns to Ellie, catching her about to attack so he reaches over to take her gun, making her drop the map, and making them now struggle.

You glance at Mel and make sure she’s not grabbing for a gun or a knife, and when you don’t see anything in her hands, you turn back to Owen and catch Ellie punching Owen in the eye, winning the struggle by then kicking his knee and causing him to stumble back with his gun in hand.

Before he can raise it though, you’re about to press the trigger, but Ellie beats you to it and manages to shoot him right through the throat, ending his life right away. There’s no struggle to stay alive. He falls lifeless on the ground.

“Owen!” Mel cries out and you don’t consider her a threat, but she reaches down, and before she can reveal what she is reaching for, Ellie hits the trigger.

Mel tries to avoid being hit, but the bullet grazes her neck and then hits the lockers behind her, leaving a smoking hole where the bullet hits.

“Oh, god, oh,” Mel gasps as she reaches for her bleeding wound before she falls on her back on the ground.

“Knife?” She says between gasps as she begins to open her coat. “Do you have a knife?” She asks again and reveals her pregnant belly to you and Ellie, making you drop your gun with disbelief.

“I only have 30 seconds. Get the fuck over here, please. Please, please, please,” she talks with urgency, making you pull out a dagger from your thigh holster, and then making you immediately run to her side.

In your shock, you don't even look to Ellie to catch her reaction, but before you know it she runs over to fall by Mel’s other side with her switchblade in her hand.

“Knife. Knife,” Mel pleads as she presses on her wound.

“You’re gonna take it out,” she says to you and Ellie. “You’re gonna get it out.”

“What?” Ellie gasps as you sit there still in shock.

“I don’t know how to do that,” Ellie says as she looks down at Mel’s belly.

“I do, I do,” Mel assures her. “One incision. That’s all it is. And then, be sure to tie the cord. Work fast. Work fast.”

You were never trained to be a doctor like your friend Mia was. You never had an interest in it. You can do basic first aid, but you can’t help her take out her baby.

You had help when Theo came out and if you ever were with someone in labor you always just fetched stuff for the one delivering the baby. You never helped in that regard. You can’t…

But you have to.

You have to try.

Albeit just as you move your hands down and pull up Mel’s shirt to expose her flesh, Ellie grabs your hands with her shaky ones and shoves your hands away.

“I—I will. Let me. I…” she trails off and looks at Mel’s belly with confusion.

“Ellie,” you call out for her attention, but she ignores you and turns to Mel.

“How deep?” Ellie asks.

“Deeper than you think,” Mel says, quieter than before.

“Which way?” Ellie continues to ask and you try to force yourself in, but Ellie keeps pushing you away, knowing you don’t know more than she does.

“Which way?” Ellie asks again when Mel doesn’t answer.

“Low transverse,” Mel mutters to the ceiling. “Transverse.”

“What?” Ellie exclaims in distress. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Ellie!” You insist and try to take over again, but this time she puts her hand on your chest and shoves you away.

“I said stop!” She cries out and looks at Mel with more panic.

“Low transverse,” Mel keeps repeating, making your heart fall to your stomach, threatening to push out the little you ate, and pulling out streams of tears from your eyes.

“Tell me what that means,” Ellie whispers to Mel.

“You’re doing good,” Mel whispers weakly as she keeps looking up. “You’re doing really good…is it out?” She asks and tears your heart apart, making you start to sob.

“Is it out?” She whispers one last time before she lets out her last breath and lays completely still, making Ellie pull her shirt down, and making you crawl to her to try and console her as she begins to sob and tears at your heart even more, but Ellie pushes you away, leaving you to sit on the ground with disbelief, and watch as more blood pools out of Mel and falls into the drain.

You can’t even move and neither can Ellie, so you both sit there in shocked silence, listening to each other's breath and the distant thunder clapping loudly in the sky. That is until you hear your name being called out.

“Sunny?” A familiar voice calls out seconds after when you don’t answer. “Baby?”

They turn the corner and you see your Uncle Tommy. The sight of him makes you break from your disbelief and stand up to meet him halfway with a wave of relief.

“You’re okay!” You cry and study him for any wounds, but you don’t see any. Thankfully. He’s just soaked.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asks as he grabs your cheek and studies you too.

“No, no, I’m okay. I’m okay. It’s…Ellie,” you say and look back at her, making your uncle look back and see her still on the ground looking at Mel, so he pulls away and runs to her, finding Owen’s body on the ground as well as Mel’s.

“Oh God,” you hear your uncle gasp before he crouches beside Ellie and grabs her face, making her cry more.

“Are you okay?” You hear beside you and when you look over you see Jesse holding up his gun.

“Yeah,” you nod. “You?”

He nods too and then catches your uncle passing you and him with Ellie, leaving you and him behind to take a longer look at the bloody scene.

“Let’s go,” you break him from his stupor and nudge his arm, making him move after your uncle first, and leaving you to linger there for a few seconds to steal one last glance at what happened.

——

*LATER*

“I thought this was only supposed to happen in the morning,” Dina complains hoarsely as she just finished throwing up a third time.

“Well.” You scoff. “Contrary to the name. No. It can happen at any time and it can happen due to many different things, but some things are stress and exhaustion,” you let her know, making her nod.

“Yeah, it checks out.”

You hum and finish braiding her hair so it’s not in the way. “Just sleep, okay? Drink a lot of water and when we make it out of this damned city I’ll try to find some tea for you to take while we make our way home, okay?”

Dina nods softly and whispers. “Okay…and when we get home you’ll continue to help me, right? I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

You giggle and nod. “Of course, I will. You know sucking on ice really helped me. Apollo would put water to freeze in the morning so by the time we went to bed there was ice for me to eat. It really helped. So I’ll have a bowl of ice cubes ready when we’re home.”

She hums and smiles sweetly. “That’s nice. How did he know to do that?”

You scoff. “He didn’t. It was my dad. My mom…when she was pregnant with me, she would have terrible morning sickness and he said that she liked to suck on ice because it would help. So he and my sister would always have bowls of ice cubes ready for her.”

Dina smiles wider with admiration. “Ice actually sounds very good, so I’m looking forward to it.”

You grin and then get off the couch to walk around the couch and pat the pillow. “Put your head down and try to sleep now, so you can feel better by the time it’s to go, otherwise I will stay here and talk all night.”

“Alright,” she gives in and slowly lays down, letting you put her coat over her.

“We’ll come back to check on you, okay? Try to sleep.” You tell her with a smile, seeing her nod before you walk out and immediately get greeted with Ellie’s presence standing outside the door.

“Lurking?” You tease. “You’re dating now, no? Why not go in?” You suggest considering she’s only checked on Dina once before avoiding her.

“I just need a moment,” Ellie mutters as she follows you away from the room. “Is she okay?”

You exhale deeply. “Yeah. You know this is the last time I will update you and Jesse. You’re gonna need to check in on her yourselves.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “Well, you're the only one who knows how to help her,” she argues.

“Yeah, and that’s gonna stay between us from now on. It’s not rocket science. She’s just pregnant, not infected.”

Ellie sighs. “I know. I know, I just…” she trails off with a shaky breath and you stop, making her come to a stop.

“Ellie, it was hard what happened—”

“What I did,” she corrects you, so you quickly counter.

“It was not on purpose.”

“It was. I killed her because I thought she was gonna attack us—”

“But,” you rebuttal louder so she can stop talking over you. “You didn’t know she was pregnant. We both didn’t know, so don’t torment yourself about it, okay? Just…don’t shove it under a rug either. Admit it and move on because you can’t change the past. Okay?”

Ellie shakes her head and you grab her shoulder. “Don’t be like him either, okay? You have to let yourself feel or it will eat you up from the inside.”

Ellie nods and you smile softly even if she doesn’t see it and then continue to move along to join Jesse and your uncle on stage.

“Is everything mapped?” You ask as you take a seat on the edge of the stage next to your uncle.

“Yeah.” He nods. “All we need is for the rain to clear so we can get our horses.”

Ellie was not far behind you so she walks out on stage, making both men watch her make her way to the edge of the stage with concern and silence.

“Hey,” your uncle addresses Ellie as he walks towards her. “You know, they were part of it, too. They made their choices. That’s all there is to it.”

The thunder rumbles outside of the theater whilst Ellie nods faintly before she brings her up.

“But Abby gets to live.”

You sigh and drop your head as you feel her frustration.

“Yeah,” your uncle whispers. “Are you able to make your peace with that?”

“Guess I’ll have to,” Ellie says in a whisper before she looks at Jesse just past you, telling your uncle without words that there’s tension between the two friends.

“I’m gonna start packin’ the duffels,” your uncle makes an excuse to give them space. “Sunny, why don’t you come with me? I have something to show ya.”

“Oh?” You question as you get the hint and jump off stage to follow him out.

Once you make it about halfway through the auditorium you probe. “Is this thing for me?” You bounce your eyebrows, making him chuckle.

“No, silly girl. It’s this,” he says and pulls a shiny gold necklace from his pants pocket. “It’s for Maria. I found it in a ritzy section of town.”

“Aw,” you gasp as you take the necklace and look at it closer. “It’s real pretty, and it looks like real gold.”

“‘Course it’s real gold,” he argues as he snatches the necklace back.

“Well if that’s so then can I say it’s from the both of us? I left without sayin’ goodbye,” you tell him, making him laugh again.

“Find your own apology gift.”

“Aw, shucks,” you breathe out and watch your uncle open the door for you to walk out first before he follows and lets the door close.

“Anyway, I did find somethin’ for my Teddy in a store around here. It’s a cowboy from that one animated movie my daddy always used to like watchin’ with me.”

“Oh, oh, yeah!” He snaps his fingers as he remembers. “Is it in good condition?”

You grin at him. “Excellent. It even has a pull string so it can talk,” you let him know as you reach the desk in front of the doors you just walked out of. “I’ll show ya,” you say eagerly as you part away from the desk the moment you reach it, and make your way to your backpack just by the couch near the entrance.

However, just before you can reach your backpack and your guns, you’re about to cross the stairwell that leads upstairs and get startled by the sight of Abby with a gun in hand and a deadly pained look in her eyes. One that matches the look she had in that lodge.

“You,” she grimaces before she makes her voice louder. “Back up and put your hands in the air," she immediately threatens as she slowly makes her way out of the stairwell and reveals herself to you fully without the shadows over her face, showing a much deadlier look.

“Hands up old man. Hands away from the table!” She growls as she continues to move toward you and away from the stairwell, letting a small and slim shadow in the form of a young bald boy walk out behind her holding a bow and arrow that he points at you and doesn’t shake in his hold.

“I said back up and put your hands up!” Abby sneers. “Throw your weapons on the ground and kick them away.”

You do what she says, knowing what she’s capable of and remembering what she took from you, ending up near your uncle and putting your hands up before letting her know your truth. “I don’t have any weapons on me. Swear.”

Abby glances and examines you, making sure she can’t see any before she looks at your face and scowls.

“Back the hell up!” Abby demands your uncle, making him move back and threatening to turn around, but stopping the moment she throws a command and a threat. “Don’t fucking turn around or this one gets an arrow through her leg.”

“You’re makin’ a big mistake—”

“Shut the hell up!” Abby cuts your uncle off sharply. “Lev, keep your bow on her,” she now directs at the boy, who doesn’t hesitate. Without loosening his hold he walks around to stand across from you with his arrow locked on you.

“Get on the ground. The both of you.” Abby now directs at you and your uncle.

“You’re gonna kill us like a coward?” Your uncle spats and Abby storms past you to kick your uncle in the back of his knee, knocking him to the ground, and making you plead. Again.

“Please!” You bellow and get on your knees, but just like before she doesn’t listen. She then follows by smacking the back of your uncle's head with her gun, causing him to fall on his face and making you cry out.

“Uncle Tommy!”

“Shut up,” she grimaces as she points the gun at the back of your uncle's head.

Before she can do anything else the doors to the auditorium are thrown open, making Abby’s shooting arm fly up before she hits the trigger and causes Jesse to fall limp on the ground right next to you.

“Jesse,” you gasp as you see blood quickly spilling from his head. “Jesse!” You cry out as you’re forced to realize why he’s not moving and why so much blood is pouring from him. He’s dead. Abby killed him on sight.

“Jesse!” You whimper and without thinking, you crawl over to him without even thinking about his weapon that fell on the ground. You just grab him and begin to sob.

“Stand up!” Abby now barks and you think she’s yelling at you, but then the sight of someone moving across from you catches your attention, and when you glance up, you see Ellie looking at you before she looks down at Jesse’s body, so you realize Abby is talking to Ellie.

“Stand up!” Abby yells again, making you look over at her with your eyes clouded with tears. “Hands in the air or I shoot the both of them.”

“Just run, Ellie!” Your uncle tries to warn her, but Abby snaps back at him.

“Shut the fuck up!” She bellows and then follows by kicking him hard in the ribs.

“Uncle Tommy,” you whimper as you continue to hold Jesse.

“Stop,” Ellie cuts in. “Stop!” She says again and throws her gun out before she comes out of hiding and slowly stands beside you with her hands in the air.

“You fucking people,” Abby hisses as she also recognizes Ellie.

“Just let them go,” Ellie interjects.

“He killed my friends,” Abby retorts as she keeps her gun pointed at your uncle and the boy keeps his arrow locked on you.

“No, I did,” Ellie defends your uncle. “They had nothing to do with us. They came here for me,” she explains and starts crying as she continues. “I know why you killed Joel. He did what he did to save me. I’m the one that you want. Just let them go,” she pleads.

“I let you live,” Abby grimaces. “I let you both live,” she sneers as she points her gun at you.

“And you wasted it,” she snarls and then drags her gun up to point at Ellie, and knowing what Abby is capable of, and seeing that deadly and blood-thirsty look on her face, you don’t take this new target as a threat.

Just as Ellie seems to welcome her fate with tears, you quickly shove yourself up and in a blink of an eye, just as Abby hits the trigger and sends the bullet flying, you manage to tackle Ellie out of the way, but in the meanwhile, you feel the sharp and sudden pain of the bullet grazing the side of your head, causing you to quickly let Ellie go and fall on the ground almost lifeless next to her.

“No!”

“NO!” You hear your uncle's broken cry rip through the room followed by the cry of your name as you lay there, heaving, and bleeding out.

A/N- A cliffhanger? NO! But wait I’m gonna keep working on this fic to finish it since there’s not much left and it wouldn’t be fair to keep you all waiting for the little bit we have left of this amazing story, so come back next week for more!!

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @hardbeingcasual @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @sunsumonner @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion @mmkkzz @avitute @fuckmebobboys @kitdjarin1 @barnes70stark

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waynes-multiverse · 5 months ago

Text

The Exit Strategy – Part 4

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, some angst & feels, family secrets, spy stuff, a bit of spiciness

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: Welcome back, friends! We're diving a bit into Shaw family secrets this week – fully Wayne's version, though. While I did read the books, there's no major spoilers**, so don't you worry. I just played with an idea here 🤓 I also won't be fully diving into the Shaw family life, but some things are heavily hinted to be... fishy here 👀 Enjoy & let me know what you think! 🤍

**There's a small part where Russell tells Colter about their parents. It's mentioned in the books that their mother was a psychiatrist. I took that and ran with it 🤷‍♀️

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Part 4: This Is Not an Exit

“You’ve been walking down memory lane a lot tonight,” you teased with a nudge of his ribs, still tightly cuddled in his warm embrace in the freezing basement.

“Haven’t you?”

“No, I have,” you admitted with a melancholic sigh. “Maybe we should stop dwelling on the past so much. Think more about the future…”

Russell scoffed a small chuckle. “Dory said something similar not that long ago. Actually the reason why I came here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, his fingers absently drawing circles on your arm. “I think it’s time we retire, sweetheart. I mean, after everything we’ve been through, I think we deserve to, right? You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning, and I’m surprised we’re even still here, considering how many war zones we’ve been in.”

“Well, you know what they say – beware the old soldier because he’s old for a reason,” you said with a smile.

“Yeah, think I might be getting a little too old…” Russell chucked lightly, running a hand through his long hair. “So? What d’you think? One last hurrah, and then we hang this up? I was thinking maybe we could open up a brewery, you know? A family place. Bet the kids would love it.”

“Sounds nice,” you said with a yearning smile. You wanted all of that and more. “I’d love to retire with you.”

“But?”

You laughed slightly at his anticipating look. “But I don’t think you can yet.”

His eyebrows drew together till they met above the bridge of his freckled nose. “What d’you mean? I just told you I’m ready.”

“You say you are, but you aren’t,” you replied like the annoying Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “Have you solved the murder yet?”

Russell licked his lips, which was his telltale sign that you caught him there. After all, you knew him better than anyone in this world – knowing when he needed to be pushed and shoved was part of it.

“No, but I don’t need to anymore. Look, the only reason I wanted to solve it was because I thought I had to prove my innocence to Colter. And well, turns out I didn’t. He believed me anyways, so…”

“That wasn’t the only reason,” you reminded him with a scrutinizing look.

“Maybe, but like I said – Dory thinks we should keep all this bullshit in the past, and after the last three years, I’m starting to agree with her,” Russell said, dragging a hand over his face.

“Look, if that’s what you want–”

“It’s what I want,” he assured you and placed a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. “Having my little brother and sister back is enough. I don’t need more. Nothing good ever comes from being greedy.”

You nodded in understanding, clearing your throat. “Still, in the name of our deal to always be honest, I kinda have to confess something.”

Rising from your seat, you dusted off your awful, flowery skirt and wandered to the wall safe once more, retrieving a thick folder from it. You took your place next to Russell again, his questioning eyes meeting yours as you handed him your research.

“When you didn’t come back after a year or so, I started looking into it as well. Might have done a full deep-dive,” you admitted with a bite of your lip.

Russell shot you a chiding look, shaking his head, but most of all, he was worried. “I told you to leave it alone. You don’t know what sorta people we’re dealing with here, but we do know they’re dangerous.”

“I know. I just wanted to help. Figured I could speed it along. I do have more access than you,” you countered softly. “I’m sorry, okay? But I was careful. I promise.”

“Good,” he said and looked at you, interlacing your fingers with his. “‘Cause the last thing I want is losing you over this bullshit, too.”

Nodding, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. “There’s something you should know, though.” He raised his brow anew – you’d always been full of surprises. Life certainly had never been boring. “Someone accessed the files after me.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. Definitely had a higher clearance than me, though,” you replied.

Russell threw his arms up, and you could see he was getting more upset again. “See? This is what I’m talking about! The whole point of us separating was to keep you and the kids away from it. Otherwise, we could’ve just stayed together, and I could’ve joined Horizon anyways.”

“I know that, too,” you said remorsefully. “But don’t worry. I wasn’t followed, and no one ever came after me. I made sure of it. It’s been two years now. They probably figured it was nothing after I didn’t reach out to you straight away.”

“Still… I don’t want you involved, alright?”

“What about Colter? Doesn’t he want to know? He doesn’t strike me as someone who just lets things go,” you noted observantly.

Russell clicked his tongue – a sign of defeat. “He isn’t, but he’s not gonna find anything either. I mean, the only reason I know is because you were so relentless and kept digging.”

“You haven’t told him what we found out?”

Russell licked his lips and admitted quietly, “No. I don’t think it does anyone any good to keep looking into this.”

Leaning forward and hugging your knees, your head bobbed pensively. “I thought you guys talked about what happened?”

“We did. Kinda… It’s complicated,” he stated, swallowing. “Dory was easy, you know? I guess she never really believed it… But it took a while till Colter even picked up the phone, let alone answered a goddamn text message. Had to get a little annoying.”

You smirked. “Well, you’re good at that. That’s how you won me over.”

“By being persistent?”

“Exactly. Like a tardigrade.” You grinned. “I mean, you kind of are doing it now again, too.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Is that why you haven’t told him about me and the kids? Because you’re not sure about him yet?”

“Partially, yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I wanted to protect you. And maybe myself a little, too… Not sure I’m ready for those two worlds to meet yet, you know? I mean, you and the kids are the best things that ever happened to me, and when I look at Colter or Dory, I’m sometimes reminded of the worst things in my life.”

“What about your mother?”

Russell let out an exhaustive sigh that was half amused. “Geez, you haven’t changed a bit. You still ask the most uncomfortable questions possible.”

You laughed a little. “Gathering intelligence in uncomfortable ways is kind of my job, Shaw.”

“Yup, and no one’s better at it than you, sweetheart,” Russell quipped.

“So I’m guessing it’s a no on Mommie Dearest?”

Russell licked his lips, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna see her. Mostly because I don’t even know what to fucking say anymore,” he said. “I don’t want her to meet the kids either.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him and took his hand in yours. “It’s your choice, Russ. We go at your pace, alright?”

“Thank you.” Russell brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before he looked at you deeply, a smile dancing across his plump lips. “I love you.”

You mirrored his smile, your heart fluttering like a wild butterfly in your chest. “I love you, too.”

“I’ll tell them – Dory and Colter. I want this to work,” he promised. “Just… after we finish this. I want him to have a clear head. I prefer not to get him killed, you know?”

“I get it. I thought the same thing when I first met you, too,” you joked, patting his chest. “But you brought him into this. It’s kinda on you.”

Russell scratched his bearded chin. “Yeah, but I didn’t exactly know what I’d bring him into.”

“Didn’t you, though?”

Amused, Russell bobbed his head. “Yeah, maybe I did,” he acknowledged. “You know, when Manny called me–”

Your eyes widened. “Manny called you?”

Russell blinked at you, brow creased in confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“That motherfucker…”

Furiously, you stomped to the desk and grabbed the radio. “Drone-5. This is Queen Bee-1. Report to Hive.”

The static of the radio cracked almost instantly, as if the idiot had been waiting all night for this call. “Yo, Queen Bee-1. How’s my boy?” Manny’s laugh echoed through the basement.

Russell’s glowing cheeks reached his eyes when he heard his friend’s voice. He’d known the guy almost as long as Doug.

“You’re the one who fucking told him?!” you yelled into the radio, almost crushing the device in your hand.

“To be fair, I told him not to engage with tango,” Manny sheepishly replied.

“Ha-ha, funny. Fuck you,” you huffed and tossed Russ the walkie-talkie. He caught it with one hand.

His boyish grin widened as he pushed the button. “You know, Drone-5, you could’ve told me you were actually working this thing.”

“Aw, you know I can’t do that. But I guess congrats on crashing another operation. You’re Worker Bee-3 now. Old habits die hard, huh?” Manny chuckled.

“Yeah, I guess…” Russell replied with a lighthearted chuckle, but his teeth tugged pensively at his lips.

“Great to have you back, brother. Hope this works out for you. See you on the other side, man. Oh, and could you move like three feet to the left and turn the washer off? We can barely hear and see you guys, and Drone-2 just ran out to grab popco–”

“No, absolutely not. Out,” you snapped as you grabbed the radio from Russ. He laughed as you put it furiously back on the desk. You knew what you had signed up for, but you still deserved some privacy. Annoyed, you took off your cross necklace – another bug – and settled down beside him again.

“What did he say when he called you?”

“Nothing much, really. Just told me your coordinates and that you like to pick up your mail at three o’clock at the local post office,” Russell replied.

You shook your head, smiling. “Well, he always loved you, so…” You started to chew on your lower lip, the anxiety in your belly returning. For the sake of your mind and heart, you had to make sure Russell was fully back, and this wasn’t just a fluke. “You know, I worry sometimes that if you don’t face this thing with your family, you’ll always feel this way. I mean, after Lewis was born–”

“I know.” Russell nodded, swallowing thickly. He saw the worry shimmering in your eyes, and it cracked his heart a little. “I know I kinda lost it there. Took me by surprise, too. Trust me. Figured I had dealt with all that shit already, you know? But I guess seeing you with him and feeling all that love myself, I just-… I don’t know. I don’t know how she could do it… Ashton was one thing, but she just stood by. And I don’t even know what the hell she was up to while he took us out into those woods…” He shook his head as if to rattle the answer out of his brain. “And then when we found out you were pregnant again… I mean, I’d barely held it together with Lewis. Everything just became a blur. I couldn’t think straight anymore, and I worried all the time I’d be like them…”

“I tried to help,” you said softly.

“I know you did. Guess this was just something I had to figure out on my own,” he replied with a beat shrug.

“How’s your vision now? Still blurry?”

“Clearer than ever.” A smile flickered alive on his lips, green eyes boring into yours as he leaned in and kissed you slowly like he meant every word. Blowing a raspberry, he then turned his attention to the file in his lap. “So, what am I gonna find in there?”

“Honestly, nothing we haven’t already puzzled together,” you replied, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. “But I found a couple of names associated with your parents. Thought maybe you could look at them and see if you recognize the person you saw in the woods.”

“I already know where this is going…”

“Russ, please, just–”

Russell interrupted you, placing a soothing palm on your thigh that curbed your enthusiasm. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

Satisfied, you raised two placating hands. “All I was asking…”

“How was the lasagna?”

After four hours in the basement, you and Russell quietly treaded up the stairs a few minutes after midnight, finding Colter in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the ceramic form in the warm glow of the stove light. Tom, on the other hand, had passed out on the couch, only the blue flickers of the TV and the soft noises of a peaceful nature documentary filling the silence of the dark living room.

“Excellent,” Colter stated, swallowing down a mouthful of lasagna before speaking. “I told Tom he should be a chef in a restaurant or something.”

Russell’s brow knitted in doubt. “Really? Lemme try.”

“You just ate two entire bags of junk. You can’t still be hungry,” you argued with a giggle, shaking your head.

“It’s lasagna,” Russell said simply, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and dove right in.

That man would eat anything. You’d seen him do it, too. He didn’t even go hungry when he was lost in a desert.

“Wow, that is good,” Russell announced his judgement with a full mouth. “Maybe we should hire Tom for the brewery, huh?”

“I’m guessing this means you two talked?” Colter asked with a carefully arched brow.

“Hmm. I don’t know,” Russell mused in jest. “What d’you say, sweetheart? You taking me back?”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Guess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.”

Russell laughed and slung an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your temple.

But then you noticed Colter’s smile falter, his brows creasing in question. “Is your hair different?”

“Shit!”

Wide-eyed, you bolted back down the creaking stairs to the basement, hearing Russell’s laughter fill the kitchen.

“Was she wearing a wig? And her eyes too, right?” Puzzled, Colter tried to piece it all together. He had already figured by your extensive vocabulary of swear words that you might be a better match for his older brother than he had initially surmised.

“Yup, all fake, man,” Russell confirmed and smirked. “Still think she’s not my type yet?”

“No, I can see it now,” Colter admitted, chuckling. “So, you guys are good?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Russell nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, swallowing.

Colter’s smile widened, filling the older Shaw’s stomach with more guilt. “That’s great. Happy for you, man. Guess that means you’re retiring now, huh?”

Russell scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, we’ll see. Always depends on what the wife decides, you know?”

Yup, he sprinkled that important bit of information into a joke. Then, he watched his little brother take a stumped step back, brow furrowing and unfurrowing and then furrowing again.

“Wha-, wife?”

Russell produced a popping sound with his lips like the noise of a bottle when the cork was pulled. Welp, this bottle was surely open now.

“Yup, got married in Thailand in 2011,” he added another helpful tidbit of information, but Colter’s jaw dislodged all the same.

“Alright, got this all figured out,” you said, sauntering back into the kitchen with a pastel pink towel wrapped around your head and a matching bathrobe. You’d just grabbed them from the dryer, the fluffy material still cozily warm. It was the best option, considering you didn’t want to mess around with your wig as well after popping the lenses back in had already cost you most of your patience. In your little bubble of bliss, you hadn’t instantly noticed the brothers staring at you. But once you did, your brows morphed into a frown. “What’s going on?”

“You two are married?” Colter asked, a pointed finger flicking from Russell to you.

You threw your arms up, looking at your husband. “I was gone for five minutes! What happened to telling him after the operation?”

Russell offered you a sheepish shrug. “Well, this old soldier’s getting weak too, apparently.”

“He said it like a joke…” Colter mumbled, still in the middle of processing this new revelation. His older, estranged-but-now-less-strange brother had a wife. A family. Friends. And he knew none of it. What else was there? Kids?

“Yeah, he does that...” You shot your husband a scolding sideways look. “Should I leave you two alone for this?” you then offered, hoping the answer was a goddamn yes.

“Why would you? You’re family, right?” Colter retorted with a dry smile and a sharp look.

You pursed your lips. While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasn’t as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.

“Don’t take it out on her,” Russell stepped in gently, which really was a warning. “She didn’t know about any of this. Kinda pushed her into it.”

“Seems to be your style,” Colter scoffed.

“Can’t work for the CIA without going through a baptism of fire, little brother,” Russell said simply, giving an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.

“Why would you not tell me?” Colter stared at him, his look a mix of reproach and agitation.

“Look, you weren’t exactly welcoming during our first meeting,” Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? He’d already done that for more than two decades.

“That was months ago,” Colter countered, scowling. “I’d like to think I’ve come around since then… Coulda told me after we saved Doug.”

Russell let out a small sigh of defeat, rolling his eyes back slightly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, man, alright?” he apologized earnestly.

With a questioning brow, you carefully nudged your husband’s arm. “What happened to Doug? Is he alright?”

“Yeah, uh, he went to work for Horizon with me. I’ll tell you later, okay?” Russell replied, his voice a lot quieter as if sharing a secret, and if Horizon was involved he probably was.

“Is Tracy okay?”

“She’s fine. Little shook up. You should probably give her a call. Smooth things out,” Russell told you.

Tracy thought you worked in marketing at some company for the government. Whenever you, Russell, and Doug were stuck on a mission, the boys made you call her to “smooth things out” – aka reassuring her everything was certainly fine with her husband and he wasn't in any danger at all. They’d once made you call her from a Black Hawk. The noise had been fun to explain away – you’d told her you were picking up a client from a helicopter pad.

Colter chewed on the insides of his cheeks. “So she knows Doug, too?”

Russell nodded. “Yeah, me and Doug were mostly Delta, but SAD liked to borrow us from time to time. We ran in her team for quite a while. She was actually the one who recruited me.”

At his little wink your way, you smiled. He’d come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.

“Listen, things were obviously a little complicated between me and her the last few years,” Russell (under)stated. “But I’ve brought you here for a reason, okay? Figured it’s time you meet your sister-in-law.”

Eyes drifting from you to Russell, Colter pursed his lips – a tell he shared with his brother.

“Are you mad? I can’t tell.” Frowning, Russell tilted his head.

“No,” you absentmindedly replied for Colter, who gave you a curious look but steered his attention back to Russell.

“No,” the younger Shaw repeated your assumption. “I mean, not more than I was before, you know?”

Russell’s creases only deepened. “No, I don’t know.”

“He means he’s indifferent about knowing or not knowing we’re married because he’s already pissed about not knowing about my existence in general,” you explained.

“Ah. Your nerd is showing, sweetheart,” Russell teased you with a smile that made your heart melt.

“Dory would like her,” Colter commented like the thought had just popped into his head – something else he didn’t share with his brother.

You’d always wondered about the youngest Shaw of the three. Russell could never tell you much about Dory. His memory had been one of a smart and feisty nine-year-old, not a young woman and physics professor.

Thumbing at you, Russell cocked a brow at his brother. “Is she right, though?”

“Spot on, actually.” Colter’s tongue poked his cheek, his gaze flickering with a hint of astonishment and new-found respect for you. “And I guess I’m not really mad either way. Just… surprising, you know? I should’ve asked. That’s on me.”

Russell seemed more than a little baffled to hear this, considering he had to pause to find an appropriate response. “No, uh, we’re good. I could’ve just told you, anyways.”

“Yeah, no, that’s alright.” Colter swallowed, sending his older brother a smile of forgiveness. “Honestly, I was glad to hear you weren’t alone all this time, so…”

Russell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he pushed down the lump in his throat. With a nod, he averted his green eyes to the kitchen floor. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

“Aw, aren’t you guys adorable,” you teased.

Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. “Ah – wait for it… Trust me. She’s not done.”

“You girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?”

“Oh, Dory would definitely like her,” Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.

Russell, on the other hand, shot you a pointed look, but that had barely ever stopped you before. “Okay, you can lay down. You don’t have to give him the initiation. No hazing my little brother,” he ordered you sternly, and you stifled a snort. “And no one better kidnaps him tonight and puts a bag over his head, alright? I don’t wanna pick him up beaten and bloody from some warehouse tomorrow morning.”

“Hm, what?” Colter’s brow furrowed. For the first time, you could see slight panic spread in his pupils.

Who was hazing who now?

You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. “Fine, we’ll leave him alone,” you acted your capitulation.

The younger Shaw blinked at you. “Thank you?”

“Should we at least tell him about the other thing while we’re at it?” you asked Russell with a suggestive look.

Thoughtfully, he paused for a beat, then clicked his tongue. “No, I got it from here. It’s getting late. We’ve been here long enough,” he decided. “This is less becoming a friendly ‘welcome-to -the-neighborhood’ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since you’ve put on the robe.”

“It just came from the dryer. Look, it’s so soft and warm,” you argued, pouting, your palms caressing the fluffy material on your arms.

“Uh-huh.”

The little bob of his Adam’s apple made you grin slyly. The way his jaw ticked and his pupils widened with a primal hunger, you could tell he wanted to tear that robe right off of you. The thought caused a shudder to run down your spine.

“What, uh, other thing do you have to tell me?” Colter asked and smiled expectantly, tapping his fingers on the the counter.

Russell, however, grabbed his arm and dragged his curious little brother toward the exit. “I’ll tell you in the car,” he said and thumbed to the front door behind his shoulder. “Wait outside. Gimme five minutes, alright?”

Wordlessly, Colter nodded without argument, gave you a quick goodbye-wave of his hand, and strolled leisurely back to his car as if he knew exactly what his older brother intended to do.

As expected, Russell impatiently conquered your lips, roughly pressing you against the foyer’s wall, your arms draping around his neck.

“What’s the bedroom situation in this place?” he asked between kisses.

“First floor, west side, third window from the right. I’ll leave it unlatched,” you replied, smiling against his lips. “Tom’s always sleeping on the couch. Part of our cover is going to marriage counseling with Pastor Jeff, which happens to work out great for us.”

You exhaled a shuddered breath when one of his hands wandered past the robe and splayed warm against your ribcage, just underneath your breast. His thumb fought an itch to get closer.

“Wouldn’t do that, baby,” you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. “That boner’s not gonna go away in five minutes.”

“Mmm, I know,” he groaned and dropped his head between your boobs, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. If he continued on with this, your arousal would surely streak down your bare thighs soon. Luckily, he had mercy on the both of you. “I’ll talk to him and then come back, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. He kissed your lips, then your forehead, and then disappeared through the door with the same cometary velocity he had entered your vision.

And all you could do was hope you’d see him one more time in your life.

“So?”

4.3 seconds after Colter killed the engine of his pickup in a spot a block away to the west side of your house – as per Russell’s very specific instruction – he stared scrutinizingly at his older brother.

Impatience was also a family trait – one even their father had despised.

“Look, uhm, there’s no easy way to break the news…”

“Is this about you having two kids?”

When Russell’s eyes met Colter’s, he didn’t recognize any anger, hurt or resentment in them – just pure slyness. At least that was good news. His little brother was just going to be annoying about this whole thing.

“Yeah, remember those five minutes you left me alone in the car? I called Bobby. Had him check some things out for me. Wasn’t easy to find. I’ll give you that…”

As expected, Colter was going to be a smartass about it. He figured it out on his own. He won the game.

“Hmm.” Russell pursed his lips, nodding. “You do know the CIA is on your guy’s ass now, right? Shouldn’t have done it in their perimeter, man. Manny’s probably all over this by now…”

Then his brow knit as if the thought of his old friend had provoked an idea, his head tilting with narrowed eyes at the air vents on the dashboard. How long had that car been parked outside and out of sight again?

Like a game of Operation, Russell then used thumb and pointer finger as his tweezers to retrieve a tiny bug – the spy kind.

“Gotcha,” Russell muttered, smirking. He then held the bug close to the speakers of the radio before turning up the volume to its highest setting – only for a second. He switched the radio off, rolled down the window, and threw the unwanted listening device onto the pavement. “That should teach ‘em a lesson…”

Colter cocked an incredulous brow at his brother. “They bugged my car?”

“Oh, trust me, they bug anything they can get their greedy little hands on,” Russell retorted. “Would probably check for a tracker underneath, too.”

“Great, thanks,” Colter huffed wryly.

“Hey, you wanted in. That’s what they do,” Russell reminded him, shrugging, but there was a smile of amusement on his lips.

Colter only bobbed his head. “So, you and her? You guys are good now? Just like that? Seemed… easy. Sorta…”

Russell chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his beard. He knew his relationship with you was unconventional, but it had always worked for you and him.

“Me and Y/N have a deal, you know? It’s not all black and white. I mean, we became aware a long time ago that the two of us operate in a lot of gray zones. But, uh, we always know we can rely on each other, you know? Doesn’t matter if we’ve been separated by time or space,” Russell explained to the best of his abilities.

“So what happened?” Colter prompted with the same amount of confusion. “Why did you guys split up? I saw on the birth certificate your daughter was only two years old. I mean, did you-… did you even know?”

Russell inhaled deeply, nodding. “I knew she was pregnant. When she told me back then, I-…” He paused, licking his lips. It wasn’t something he had ever talked about with anyone before – not even you. “Well, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-… I almost hurt her.” He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes.

He’d tried so hard to forget, wasn’t even sure he had ever really apologized for it to you because he so badly didn’t want it to exist that he’d tried to wish it out of literal existence, and hence, never really blamed you for leaving like you did. He understood. In fact, he had even wished you’d leave. He had convinced himself you’d be better off without him – something he still believed to be true – but he also knew he wasn’t better off without you.

He’d been lost and alone. And maybe, he was being selfish by crashing back into your life now. Or Dory’s. And Colter’s.

“I mean, nothing ever really bad happened. It’s just-… That night I came scarily close,” Russell confessed, swallowing thickly. He still hated himself for that night and everything that followed. “It’s like a switch flipped, you know? I couldn’t do anything against it… And Lewis saw parts of it, and I was already impatient with him and short with her the weeks before, so I just left that night and disappeared for two months. Volunteered for some mission. Figured it was best for everybody.”

It’s better off if he never comes back…

Russell licked his chapped lips. The next part was the hardest.

“When I got back, she told me she got a job offer in another country, and that she would be taking it and taking Lewis with her. She wanted me to use the time to… I don’t know… solve this, I guess.” He let out a humorless scoff at the painful memory.

Russell hadn’t seen it at first, maybe because he hadn’t wanted to, his anger and pain blurring the truth. After his son had been born, Russell knew you could see him struggling, so you started digging deeper into his family and what really happened. And when you’d found something – Horizon – you’d told him you could infiltrate. Naturally, Russell had passed a hard no – it had been a five-hour long fight, but he'd emerged victoriously by the end. So, you’d told him he should do it, but he didn’t want to leave you, and he didn’t want to endanger and jeopardize his family.

He’d told he was fine, but he wasn’t. It kept gnawing on him – and gnawing and gnawing and gnawing… till you eventually pulled the plug and ended his suffering.

“I was exhausted, so I told her we’d talk about it in the morning. When I woke up, they were gone. Didn’t even notice she’d already packed.”

Colter was silent for a beat. “Was it PTSD or something?”

“Or somethin’,” replied Russell.

“But you’re good now?” Colter checked with a warily raised brow.

“Guess so…”

Truthfully, Russell didn’t know if he was or wasn’t. He’d tried hard to figure out what it was exactly that had set him off that night and fix it, but he didn’t know if that feeling would ever disappear for good. He just knew he had never felt that way again since then. But could he guarantee it would never come back?

He didn’t know.

“Look, all I know is, seeing you and Dory again helped, so…” Russell twitched his shoulders and sighed. He didn’t know what else to say, how to explain it better, but Colter seemed to understand anyway, reading between the lines.

Russell worried he’d be like their father.

“I think I get it.” The younger Shaw nodded and licked his lips. “You know, you’re not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re crazy in your own way, but I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff.”

“Well, thanks,” Russell said, not convinced but appreciative of the vote of confidence. “Makes at least one of us…”

“I-, uh, I noticed their names,” Colter then said and clarified, “Lewis and Amelia. Like explorers. Like us.”

“Ah.” Russell smacked his lips and brushed it off, “Wasn’t really my idea. I told Y/N that story once. Guess she took a liking to it..”

“Are you, you know, gonna tell Mom?”

Russell was almost surprised by the question. The brothers had barely talked about their mother since they’d reconnected. Considering Colter had never brought her up again after their first meeting, Russell figured there was a reason for that – and he thought he probably knew the reason, too.

Russell scoffed a chuckle and looked at his little brother with an almost incredulous look. “I think you can guess the answer to that one,” he replied and figured it said enough. “Did you tell her I came back?”

Colter pursed his lips, and Russell took it as a sign of admission. So his mother knew. Great…

“Sorta,” Colter admitted hesitantly.

“What d’she say?” Russell almost smiled out of amusement. He already knew the answer, but his brother still seemed reluctant. “C’mon, you can tell me. I’m not gonna be butthurt after twenty years…”

“She told me to ignore you,” Colter finally confessed, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. They had ever since his mother said them, but even more so now that he knew his brother – and parts of the truth.

“Hmm,” Russell hummed with tight lips and ground his jaw.

Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.

“But I actually haven’t talked to her in a while now,” Colter added with a small shrug, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Huh, really?”

“Yeah, uh, and when I did, I didn’t exactly tell her I didn’t take her advice, you know? So…”

“Why not?” Russell’s brow furrowed a little more as he analyzed each word, simultaneously realizing why he had been so reluctant to share his life with Colter before – his subconscious had been afraid his alienated little brother would report back to the mothership.

Colter’s lips pursed. “Because I disagree.”

“Ah.”

Colter chewed on his lower lip. “Look, I know you and Dory wanna keep all of this in the past and play family – and trust me, I want that too,” he assured, but his heart was beating fast in his chest. “But I need to know, man. I need to know why she lied about this for twenty years and, you know, did all of this,” he insisted, and yet, Russell could tell he wasn’t done. He might have broken the dam. “She did it to you. I mean, aren’t you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” the older Shaw admitted, but there was no fire behind his words.

“Then why are you so calm?”

Amused, Russell chuckled, shrugging. “Probably ‘cause I’ve been dealing with this a lot longer than you, little brother.”

“So, what are we gonna do now?”

“We ain’t gonna do anything,” Russell clarified, his voice stern. He’d die to protect his family, you and the kids, and do anything in his power to keep you out of it, but Colter was a grown-up – a free agent. If he didn’t want to listen, Russell couldn’t force him. “Look, you wanna find out, you go find out. And if you do find something and need help, you call. But I can’t be involved in this,” he explained, his firm expression morphing into something more vulnerable and sincere. “And frankly, I don’t care that much. You, me, Dory, Y/N, the kids – that’s all that matters, trust me. You’re not gonna feel better or more… whole after finding those answers.”

“How do you know? Do you know what really happened?” Colter instantly asked, and Russell knew in that moment, it’d be hopeless. His brother wouldn’t stop till he found it – forever restless.

“No, I told you. I don’t,” Russell repeated, and while he didn’t know everything, he omitted that he knew something.

“What about Y/N?”

Russell froze at the bare mention of your name, his protective instincts kicking in. “Leave her out of this,” he all but snarled.

But Colter didn’t think about stopping. “Did you ever ask her? I mean, she’s CIA. She could probably find out something, right?”

“Yeah, I asked her once, alright? Was a long time ago,” Russell admitted, sighing. The intended lie would stick better if there was some truth to it – you had taught him that.

“C’mon, Russ… And?” Colter impatiently threw his arms up, brow raising higher and higher as he waited for an answer.

“She never found anything,” Russell said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

This time, it wasn’t just an omission. It was a blatant lie.

“I think whatever Dad was involved in – or both of ‘em – was just some activist shit. I don’t think the government cares.” Lie. “We both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic… I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.” Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. “You didn’t know that, did you?”

Quietly, Colter shook his head.

“Well, you were a kid,” Russell said and hoped it would curb the blow slightly, although he knew better than that. “He always took something as far back as I can remember. She used to prepare his pills every evening after you and Dory went to bed. But when we moved to the cabin, he started refusing to take them. Said they made him ‘not clear-headed enough.’ Kinda ironic,” he shared and snorted. “When it got too bad, though, she’d still crush ‘em into his food.”

Colter took everything in with a nod but didn’t say anything more.

“You good over there?” Russell checked after a full minute had passed.

“Yeah,” Colter said and even tried to form a reassuring smile before the attempt failed. Instead, he swallowed. “Just a lot, you know? I didn’t know. I mean, I had some idea, but not-… not that.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Russell said, his voice almost a whisper in the silence of the night. “Like I said, you were a kid…”

When Russell finally left the car to sneak back to you, his shoulders felt a little lighter and his heart a little calmer. He might just float through that unlatched window tonight.

The bad news was, though, he might not be able to retire just yet.

Part 5: This Is a Start

Honestly, I should've called this chapter "Heart-to-Heart Part II" 😂 I'll see you for the finale next week, but as you know, it's not the end for them – only just the beginning 😉

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