Fanfic:: Rescue
My first fic for @mandocule-may-mondays! I honestly wasn’t planning on doing this prompt, but I got suddenly inspired!
So here’s some Din/Cobb/Omera hurt/comfort! Huge thanks to @themarshalstale for betaing!
Link to AO3
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“Someone’s gonna pay ransom for this?”
It’s the first thing Cobb hears when he finally comes to. It’s unfortunately not his first time waking up disoriented and sore, so he knows to keep his eyes shut. At least the beings are speaking Huttese, a language he knows.
A second voice speaks, “Yeah, boss said there’s a bidding war already, so no more roughin’ him up.”
Someone shoves his right shoulder, lighting up his whole body with pain. It’s easy to pretend to be limp.
There are footsteps away from him, voices drifting as they talk about prices and buyers already lined up. He waits for the hiss of the door shutting before letting a groan eek from his lips.
He squints open his eyes, opening them fully when the lights don’t give him a headache immediately. Hopefully, that means no concussion.
He looks around. He’s tied to a chair, arms behind the back, his feet tied to the legs. It looks like any room on Tatooine, dust and sand cling to the corners, the walls are hewn from the rock, furniture that’s third-hand at the best. Nothing in here to indicate who has him.
He’s lost track of the people he’s pissed off anyway, so he lets go of the “who” question and focuses on how he’s going to get out of here.
Memories come in fits and starts as he starts pulling at his bindings. Din had left for Sorgan yesterday, promising to tell Omera hello from Cobb. Issa had returned from Mos Eisley that evening, leaving his pining to a minimum. They shared a bottle of spotchka on the porch and then blaster fire exploded out of nowhere before everything got hazy.
He hopes Issa got out safely.
Cobb grunts in pain as he tries pulling at his bindings again, only aggravating the old injury to his shoulder. Something wet trickles down his fingers and he can only hope he isn’t bleeding elsewhere.
He’s about to try and see if he can loosen the bonds on his feet when the door opens. Before he can pretend to be unconscious again, a person comes flying through the partially open door. He flinches at the sudden loud noises, shouts and blaster fire fill the room, even if he can’t see past the door.
A silhouette fills the doorway, all gleaming armor and familiar lines. He stares as Din, silhouetted, pulls out the dark saber, its otherworldly hum flooding Cobb’s senses.
He must black out for a second because suddenly, the sounds of fighting are gone and there’s a woman in front of him. He blinks, and it takes him a while to place her face, not used to seeing her in armor.
“Omera? Wha-” he croaks, immediately coughing as his dry throat seizes up.
A flask appears in front of him and he grabs it – his hands having been cut free at some point – and he drinks greedily, some of it spilling out of his mouth and down his throat.
Everything feels a little more grounded with the water in him. Omera’s features turn clearer, the slope of her cheeks, her braid in disarray, the armor she’s wearing, blaster at her hip.
“What are you doing here?” he manages to ask.
“Freetown called Din as soon as you were taken. You- you were going to be ransomed off. I wanted to come with.”
He feels a tugging at his leg and looks down, realizing Din is knelt at his feet, a bottle of bacta spray beside him as he cuts away Cobb’s pant leg. He hadn’t even realized his leg needed medical attention. Din glances up at him, but quickly returns his attention back down.
He looks back to Omera. “Are they okay? Is Freetown okay?”
She nods. “Yes, you were the only target.”
He’s still taking everything in when Omera lets out a shaky breath and he realizes she’s crying, her body shuddering beside him.
“Thank the gods you’re okay,” she whispers.
Before he can comment, Omera takes the back of his head in one hand and pulls him in close. He stills as her lips brush his hairline. His eyes flutter shut, one part out of exhaustion, one part how it feels like her lips have a direct connection to his heart. He feels warmer, more himself.
The feeling goes away as he feels her freeze against him.
“Cobb, I’m sorry, I-”
He holds up a hand, throat now thick with something else.
He doesn’t remember much of how he got here, but he does remember how Din chose Sorgan for Cobb’s first trip off planet; Omera’s kindness as she showed him the krill farms for the first time, her laughter at his jokes, how Din stared at the two of them with open want even thought the helmet. He remembers promises to show her and Winta around Tatooine, how Winta couldn’t fathom the idea of endless deserts and their laughter over her indignation. He remembers how the two of them ogled at Din, laughing at the similarities of how they both fell for him.
“No apologies,” he says. His hand gropes at her side, until he finds her hand. The kiss he presses to her knuckles isn’t perfect, but he’s amazed he’s still conscious, so he’ll take it.
Din stands up and Cobb suddenly realizes those first kisses had an audience. But Din doesn’t look uncomfortable, the lines of his armor reading more of contentment than stress.
“We should head out. We all need to rest.”
He holds out a hand, which Cobb takes. Din helps him up slowly, not risking lightheadedness or wobbly knees. He leans heavily against Din’s armor, which is still warm from the heat of battle. Cobb’s heart suddenly feels like it’s going to overflow, so he leans the side of his head against Din’s. Din stills for a moment before tightening his grip on Cobb’s shoulders, pressing back against his forehead in a gesture Cobb is definitely familiar with.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Din says quietly.
Omera comes on the other side of Cobb to steady him, and Cobb hasn’t felt this safe in decades.
