a knock at the door (The Mandalorian)
@red-velvet-panda is sick and requested a little Mando fanfic to feel better. Hope this Din sick!fic fits the bill <3
There was a knock at the door.
Din groaned, swallowing. He should see who was there. There could be important intel… a job he needed to get to… The knock came again, more insistently.
“I’m coming,” he muttered. His eyes cracked open, taking in his helmet’s visor display, Mando’a swirling confusingly around its edges. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows, a wave of dizziness rippling over him.
He blinked. A familiar little voice came from somewhere near his elbow, and he turned with a great effort to see what it was.
Who it was. The kid. He remembered flickers of Corvus, a Jedi, a blackened forest. A name.
“Grogu,” he croaked. What was wrong with him? His head pounded, sweat dripping down his face beneath his helmet, a deep chill in his bones. Grogu patted his elbow, little claws tugging at his flightsuit, his small face scrunched up in concern.
“Don’t worry, kid,” Din managed. “Must’ve picked up a bug back there, that’s all.” He faintly remembered they were en route to Tython, the world the Jedi had told him would hold answers for Grogu, but it was a zigzagging leap halfway across the galaxy. It’d be a few hours. Days? Not weeks. Whatever it was, it’d be a while. His head pounded.
He forced himself to sit upright, leaning against the bulkhead and shivering. “Who was knocking at the --” He chuckled raspily. They were in hyperspace, him and the kid. He must have been hallucinating.
He knew he should try to take care of himself. Had to make sure he was able to help the kid, had to be better by the time they reached Tython so he could get the kid back to his --
He took a deep, shaky breath. It’s my duty. It’s what I set out to do.
But he felt terrible, and he wasn’t sure it was just the fever.
Grogu clambered up onto Din’s lap, curling up in the crook of his arm. He looked up at him curiously, ears drooping down with worry. He babbled a question to Din, and in his haze the nonsense words almost made sense to him.
“I’ll be fine. Honest. Just… need a minute to rest.”
Grogu frowned, his huge eyes narrowing. He sat back, then reached out one small hand, letting his eyes drift closed. Din watched him in confusion. It looked like the kid was using his powers, but for what?
A flicker of movement at the edge of his visor’s viewfield caught his attention. For a moment he thought he was imagining it -- his large canteen, wobbling and floating in midair, slowly coming towards them. Then the canteen plonked itself down in his lap beside Grogu, who shook his head and looked up at him, pleased.
“That’s -- that’s something, kid,” Din said, impressed despite the pounding in his head making everything bleary. “You thirsty? I can open it for you --”
Grogu pushed the canteen into Din’s hand, giving him a meaningful look. Oh. The kid was trying to make sure he kept hydrated.
Din clumsily unscrewed the top to the canteen and lifted his helmet just enough to free his mouth. He leaned hard against the wall to stay upright. He took a drink of water, then a gulp, and it was bracing, ice cold, possibly the most refreshing thing he’d ever drank in his life. And Grogu had gotten it for him. He smiled faintly, letting his helmet drop back down, and closed up the canteen.
“Thanks, kid,” he said in a hoarse, scratchy voice. “Just what I needed.” He sank back down against the bunk, his eyelids falling closed. “And maybe a little more sleep.”
Grogu babbled in agreement, then took a moment to wedge himself between Din’s chest and the bend in his elbow. He rested his small face against Din’s arm, letting out a happy little sound.
Din took a deep breath. He just needed to sleep this off. And then… Tython would be waiting for them both.
He’d face that when it came to it, but for now, he pulled Grogu just a little closer.
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