Landing in the Emperial light cruiser, Boba scowled darkly to himself as he got up and made his way through Slave 1.

Karking Luke Skywalker.

Of course the only Jedi in the known galaxy had come to the cruiser and of course Boba had to get a glimpse of the whelps face. ‘At least it wasn’t karking Han Solo. Not sure I would have held back if it was that karking asshole.’ He thought grumpily at himself as he lowered the ramp, eyeing the remains of the dark troopers laying around.

Bore all the signs of a Jedi having gone ham and Boba had to force himself not to shiver at the sight even as he hoped that the sight of Slave 1 had sent a stab of ghostly fear through the blond.

The Jedi might have been wiped out when he was still young, but he could still remember them and their powers. Even now, he couldn’t help but wonder how the other clones managed to win over them, how the Empire managed to wipe out most of them in just the first few days with the power they had at their disposal.

The thought disappeared however as the elevator opened, Fennec stepping out with a hand on Djarin’s shoulder with the Marshal following behind, the moff on her shoulder and Djarin’s helmet in one hand.

If Fennec hadn’t already commed him and informed him of the child being with Skywalker, he would have been alarmed but as it was…

Boba was already alarmed at the sight of a bared face if down tilted face, Djarin’s hazy eyes still visible as he stumbled along at Fennec’s guidance. “What…” He bit in his questions, simply took Djarin from Fennec and directed Dune to the carbonite chambers as he pulled the other bounty hunter with him.

It was clear he was karked up and Boba knows his ship and equipment better than Fennec, so she would get them out of the light cruiser and away from the damn princess and her Nite owls.

Guiding Djarin to the medbay of Slave 1, Boba furiously kept himself from looking too closely at Djarin’s face.

Not until he had permission.

Djarin and his group of Watch Children were practically religious about the helmets, so why the fuck was the other exposed?

What the hell had happened on the cruiser?

Boba wasn’t even sure he wanted to know as he carefully guided the other onto the medbed, feeling the vibrations of the ship taking of off, Fennec short words over the intercom telling them she was getting them out as Boba pulled a medkit onto the bed beside the man and popped it open for use.

“Djarin, can I look at your face?” Boba growled quietly, squeezing Djarin’s thighs when there wasn’t an answer. “Djarin, you’re clearly hurt but you aren’t wearing your helmet, I swe-”

“Doesn’t matter,” Djarin’s voice was low, raspy and Boba felt his heart break at how lost it sounded. “You can look… the others… saw. I… you can look.” He repeated, voice trailing of.

‘The kark, the kark, the kark…’ Boba swallowed, closed his eyes and then looked up, meeting the hazy brown eyes of the other.

Djarin looked so very lost even as he couldn’t meet Boba’s eyes, either due to the clear concussion he had or because he wasn’t used to it.

So very lost and so very small, his face had blood on it, coating down the side of his neck and into his kute. At the sight Boba felt the air in his lungs freeze even as he was certain there would be more injuries below the beskar andkute. “…What happened?” He whispered, unsure if he meant the look or the injury.

The question had Djarin shoulders hunching, pulling up to his ears. “…I gave Grogu to the Jedi… I… accomplished my task.” Djarinslurred out.

Slowly, carefully Boba reached out to touch his neck, making a questioning noise. The touch had Din’s shoulders slumping though, leaning into it despite the pain it must have brought.

“Fought a dark trooper… it hit my head against the wall. A lot.” Djarinblinked at him before squinting slightly, as if the light was too much.

Three things became very clear to Boba in that moment.

One, Djarin was even more reckless than he had anticipated when he had taken the stormtroopers blasts head on, seeing as he had not informed anyone that he was properly injured and likely not that he had fought one of those karks of robots Boba had seen in the landing bay.

Two, the other was clearly very out of it, having given up his foundling. For all that it had been his tasks for months, it was also clear to Boba that Djarin had more than just cared for a foundling, he had loved the child.

Three, Djarin needed someone to take care of him, because right in this moment, the other was more than just slightly out of it, to the point he wouldn’t even do the basic of caretaking for himself.

This man had carried Boba’s armor out of the desert, had fought a krayt dragon for it, this man had gone to bat for his foundling and when push came to shove, when someone better equipped to train and protect him came along, had done the difficult choice to hand his child over.

So Boba would step in for now, when it was clear Djarin needed someone because this man had been the one to give him his armor back, give his father’s legacy back.

And just maybe, maybe Boba felt a connection to this man and maybe, just maybe he didn’t want to loose it before it had a chance to bloom.

Slowly, carefully, he reached out and slid his fingers through the others matted, sweat and blood slicked hair and drew the others face towards him, settling Djarin’s forehead on Boba’s shoulder.

A low, confused noise escaped Din.

“Shh… I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you heal.” Boba murmured quietly, Din’s gloved hands coming up to grasp at Boba’s breastplate, holding on as Boba slowly prodded at the back of the others head, feeling the broken and swelling skin.

It made him hiss with worry.

The amount of Force the dark troopers must have been able to exert for that to happen with a karking beskar helmet to protect the skull… kark, thank fuck Skywalker had dealt with them.

Reaching down, Boba quickly pulled out a tub of bacta. “This is going to sting and you’re going to need a water shower later Djarin, but we need to get bacta on that.” He rumbled out, feeling the other shift against him, his forehead coming into contact with Boba’s scarred neck.

“Din.” A soft, slurred whisper came to his ears and Boba paused in uncapping the tub, wondering if he had heard what he thought he heard.

Soft breathing was all he heard and swallowing Boba let out a small, questioning hum for clarification, holding his breath as he waited for Djarin to speak again.

“My name… Din Djarin. Its… its yours to use.” Din continued at the prompting, his breath washing across the scarred skin.

Swallowing thickly, Boba wondered if the other realized he had given Bobahis full name. Instead of doing him the discourtesy of questioning him, Boba set the tub down and raised his hand, cupping the back of Din’s head with his palm. “Vor entye, Din.” He whispered.

Without covert or foundling, Boba couldn’t help but wonder who was going to look out for this lost, doe eyed looking man with shockingly soft features behind the smooth metal of his helm.

The answer came to him as he stroked the others filthy hair. ‘Me. I’m the one that’s going to look after him. And woe be the one that harms him on my watch. I’ll smear them to the ground.’ Boba pressed his nose to the filthy hair, not yet daring to press a kiss to it yet needing to give him some affection before he continued taking care of the injuries of the lost one in his arms.

Vor entye = Thank you