SWpromptsandask

There is a panicked voice echoing faintly, screams of pain and yet Din can’t quite bring himself to open his eye.

He feels so tired and sometimes the pirates get into arguments among themselves.

They’re not a well oiled crew, that’s for sure.

Just like Ranzer’s old crew when Din worked with them.

Assholes the whole lot and so are these pirates and a vicious part of Din hopes one of them kills the other, regardless who has started the fight. A bigger part of him just wants to sleep as his body throbs with pain.

In his dreams, he’s with Boba, curled together in their bed as Boba strokes Din hair and whispers soft nothings, Din’s own hands tracing the scars on Boba’s body with tender reverence.

In his dreams, he’s home.

He’s actually a bit annoyed as he hears a fleshy thump, someone hitting the wall if he was to take a guess and a male voice pleading before there’s a fleshy thump and the sound of boots pretty much running in his direction.

Din lets out a soft noise, flinching weakly at the clang of his cell door as he forces his eye open to look, wondering weakly if its one of the pirates coming to take another finger and he can’t lose himself to his dreams if that’s what’s happening.

Instead of a leering pirate or the karking demagolka captain, he’s meet with black and green as Boba drops to his knees in front of Din, throwing his helmet off his head so Din can see his scarred face and wide eyes. “Din’ika.” The man whispered shakily, reaching out to cup his face.

Letting out a low, sobbing noise of relief through cracked lips, Din leaned into the gloved hands, wishing they were bare.

Faintly he also took notice of the slight sheen of blood on Boba’s cuirass and the part of him that had been raised a warrior that he could never quite put aside, snarled in vicious satisfaction, realizing that Boba had come in guns blazing.

Boba had come for him. “Bo-” He rasped out, his voice cracking on the others name as he wheezed, his throat struggling to swallow as Boba pressed their foreheads together for just a moment with a soft murmur. Then the other leaned back, calling over his shoulder.

“Don’t talk sweetheart, let your voice rest. Russal! Get here or I swe-” What Boba was swearing was never verbalized as a young, slightly spooked looking zabrak suddenly materialized, carrying a heavy looking bag as nervous eyes looked at Din.

They widened even more and Din wondered what kind of condition he was in for the zabrak to look like that. ‘He’s kinda pretty, all yellow and black…’ Din noted faintly as the horned male settled down on the sandy ground.

He started digging through the bag, bringing out hypos and bandages and oh, this must be the medic Boba had been talking about getting on staff for them personally. For the palace alone and in particular because Din had his nasty habit of cauterizing things.

Well, that made sense.

Wait, the two were talking, Din tried to focus on what they were saying. “ -nd you need to lower his arms sir, the blood flow to them must be horrible if he’s been kept here the entire time, I’ll do what I can but the rest has to be done in the medbay of the ship we took here.” Russal spoke quickly, a slight lisp to his words.

Must be the somewhat too long canines in his mouth doing that and Din realized that his mind wasn’t tracking properly what was going on.

If it was, he would be focusing on what was going on and not random things like the fangs of the medic.

Boba’s hands closed around his arms, fiddling with the rope tying them above his head and Din whimpered quietly as he felt the brush against his finger stumps. “Shh I know Din’ika, I know sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.” Boba whispered, Din giving a small cry when his sore arms were being lowered.

Hands, unfamiliar and colder than Boba, touched his shoulder and Din flinched away from them and towards his lover, feeling the arms of the other come up around him. “Shh, shh love, let Russal work on you. I know it must hurt but let him do his job.” Boba whispered, keeping an arm around him as he bit at the fingertips of his other glove, pulling it off.

The warm hand brushing his face had Din settling slightly, nuzzling into the hand as Russal continued prodding at injuries, Din hissing when he felt a hypo being set into the meat of his shoulder.

But Boba was there, his fingers running through his hair and into the back of his head and a distant part of his mind recognized that Boba was looking for injuries with the way he was prodding at his head.

Found the mudhorn egg too on the back of his head.

The pain was receding though, Din let out a low noise as he took in that the pain was not quite disappearing but it wasn’t as sharp. The pinch of the hypo must have been some form for painkiller and Din let out a soft noise as he rested his head on Boba’s pauldron.

“There we are… just… just relax sweetheart, ner mesh’la.” Boba whispered, voice shaking slightly as he cupped the back of Din’s head, pressing his lips to Din’s forehead.

Odd, his lips almost felt chilled and after several long minutes, between hissing with pain each time Russal touched or cleaned something, Din realized that he must be feverish, his own skin burning and therefore Boba’s normally so warm lips felt cool.

“Sir? I need you to hold him. I’m gonna have to brace his leg, I can’t quite tell if its broken or twisted but I don’t like the idea of moving him without bracing it at least.” The murmur went over Din’s head but the tightening of Boba’s arms around him did not.

It made him whine quietly, only to be hushed by Boba.

There was a shift, cool hands touching below and above Din’s right knee and he only had a moment to tense up when it was suddenly straightened and pulled.

Din screamed with pain and that was the last he knew as his eyes rolled up into his head.

()()()

Boba let out a vicious curse as Din went lax in his arms, burning eyes jumping to the medic even as Russal ignored him, quickly wrapping Din’s knee up in white gauze. He flinched when he caught Boba’s eyes though. “I-I’m sorry sir, but we really couldn’t move him without giving his knee support.” He squeaked out, shaking slightly.

Breathing out, Boba nodded as he continued cuddling Din’s unconscious body, glancing back to find Fennec still keeping the captain on her knees with the blaster in the weequay’s back. The woman was snarling but there wasn’t much she could do after having been subdued by Shand and her personally trained guards.

Boba felt the urge to go over and do… something, anything towards the woman but Din took priority.

Finding his love half conscious and so dehydrated he could barely talk in the little cell, face flushed with fever from infection and yet his skin clammy pale from his own pain, Boba had felt sick to the heart and there was no way he could leave the others side when Din looked at him with his one good eye, the relief and love at seeing Boba overwhelming.

While Fennec was busy, another was more free to move, Cobb coming over with his eyes flashing nervously to Boba and then down to Din’s face, a thin stream of blood coming from the left temple, Cobb having hit the wall at some point during their surge into the buildig. “Did… is he going to be alright?” The marshal questioned, hand tight on his blaster as he stared down at them.

Swallowing thickly, Boba nodded slowly even as he wanted to voice his appreciation for Cobb helping them. “I’ll make sure that physically, he’ll be fine.”

Cobb paused a bit, catching the wording with a grimace.

But he nodded slowly, recognizing that Boba couldn’t answer for Din’s mental state after these three days of pain and hurt Din had gone through, helpless and at the hands of thugs. And Din had barely been tracking anything other than the pain he was in and Boba’s touch.

He didn’t know if the other’s mental state would heal as well.

He could only hope.

“There,” Both men focused on the medic, the young man flinching at the attention even as he squared his shoulders. “The patient can be moved now. I suggest we make haste to the medbay sir.” Russal licked his lips nervous and Boba nodded sharply, reaching for his helmet to put it on. Din was unconscious, so seeing his ugly mug wouldn’t help the other.

And Boba would not leave his father’s armor behind ever again.

Carefully, he shifted his arm beneath Din’s legs and upper back, standing slowly with a grunt as his back protested.

But he refused to let anyone else carry Din, tucking the mando up against his chest as he stepped out of the doors with Cobb and the doctor following, moving to Fennec side, he paused to stare down at the captain as she now cowered beneath his cold visor, Din tucked protectively to his chest. “…Everyone alive is to be brought to the palace, am I clear?” He stated, his voice crackling coldly through the vocoder before he made his way to the ship.

Boba knew he could trust Fennec to follow order and if he smirked a bit when he heard a pained yelp of the pirate captain as the sharpshooter got her moving… well, that was for him to know.