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Are Anakin & the Clones going to try and figure out who tipped off Grievous in Secret We Carry?

Posted on av swmoddy

Tapping his fingers on the table in frustration and swamping guilt mixed with horror, Anakin stared at the lines of comm codes on the terminal display.

Regardless how long he stared however, nothing changed and Cody finally seemed to have enough as he cleared his throat behind him. “There’s… very little here.” The commander pointed out almost delicately.

Considering what they were seeing and the things it implied, Anakin appreciated that.

Every long range signal of the Negotiator and Resolute were listed here, hell, Cody and Rex had gone about shaking down a few of the tech advanced clones for their long range communicators even.

So those comms were in here too.

And so far, there were only three comm codes that lead away from the ships, everything else was between the two ships, troopers communicating with each others.

One of the comm codes were the council, the secure line, the line Anakin had used often enough lately to have it memorized.

The second was Ahsoka’s line, leading to the comm Anakin had personally secured to ensure being able to safely speak to his padawan.

And the last was the comm Anakin had spoken to Palpatine on.

Out of those three…

The council comms were some of the most secure lines in the galaxy, Jedi slicers had worked on those and the only way to break into them would be to break into the temple itself and gain the comm codes and break it from the inside.

The line Anakin spoke with Ahsoka on could have been compromised of course… but Anakin had himself worked on that line and if there was one thing Anakin prided himself, it was his skill with technology.

That and dueling was the things he was good with.

That left the Chancellor’s own line.

Had the chancellor office become compromised, had an aid been listening in or…

Anakin closed his eyes, breathing through his nose shakily.

No, he knew what had happened.

He knew because Palpatine had never been subtle of his attempt to circumvent Obi-Wan’s authority and position in Anakin’s life, had always tried to make himself Anakin’s mentor in some way. And Anakin, shamefully, would admit that he had liked the attention.

Palpatine had never judged him for wanting things outside the order or doing things differently.

But…

Would he really go so far as to leak Obi-Wan’s position?

‘Yes, yes he would.’ A shiver passed down Anakin’s back, the Force whispering its confirmation in his ear.

He wasn’t stupid, he may have been a bit slow at times, but he understood emotions and the covetous nature of the old politician. Anakin, as a young child, had not understood why Palpatine kept asking for him.

But as a teen and adult, he had come to understand that the Chancellor understood the power Anakin had at his disposal in the Force.

For some reason, the man wanted Anakin’s favor and confidence because of that.

Well, the reasons seemed pretty apparent to Anakin, Anakin could literally ragdoll an entire planet if he wanted to. Had actually done it once during a breakdown with Obi-Wan on a moon, something both of them had kept from all other Jedi and even the Chancellor.

The power would have scared people and Anakin had understood that as a seventeen year old padawan, sitting with Obi-Wan as he carefully put bacta patches on his hurting master’s back with shaking hands, the man’s quiet voice, reassuring voice in his ear.

He’d almost lost Obi-Wan, had felt Obi-Wan’s life drain out of him, just as when he had found his mother a few years later and… well, he had a lot more understanding for Obi-Wan’s rage at seeing master Qui-Gon’s death.

The only reason he had not ragdolled Tatooine came from his rage being focused, though, looking back, Anakin was not proud of what he had done that dark night and he banished those thoughts far, far away.

Standing here and now, Anakin wasn’t sure what to do as he opened his eyes, staring at the comm codes again.

He couldn’t prove anything.

But he could be on guard at the very least. ‘And we’ll need to inform the council… Force, this is such a mess.’ Anakin sighed deeply, shoulders slumping.

All he wanted was to sit with his wife, watch Obi-Wan eat a full meal while not becoming uncomfortable and play sabbac with Ahsoka, was that really so much to ask for?

In sightlessbird what’s the chances of us getting some pain? The only thing I love more than bonding with the clones is protective clones. And hurt Obi, of course.

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The 501st is grounded.

Normally, that be a reason for relaxation, the troopers and Jedi taking advantage of the downtime to decompression, to sleep, train and do anything but think about the war as best they could. But the reason for their grounding makes any form for decompression impossible.

Someone poisoned their commander.

Someone went out of their way to target an underage Jedi padawan.

Now, it could be because Obi-Wan was the padawan of the Hero with no Fear, Anakin Skywalker prolific in the war along with his master and whoever had targeted Obi-Wan on the CIS side feared what he could become under the guidance of Skywalker and Jinn.

But such reasons became moot to Rex when faced with his commander looking like a pale doll, laying on a too large medical bed with an oxygen mask on his face, his loose hair spread around his head like a halo.

The poison had left Obi-Wan’s face puffy, the scar across his face looking worse than usual and his skin has taken greyish tinge and the slow and sometimes stuttered breath had Rex anxiety clawing up the walls.

He wanted to punch someone but that was the last thing he could do in the Jedi halls of healing, standing at the end of Obi-Wan’s bed as machines monitored and breathed for him.

Beside him, Fox stood quietly too, staring at their boy with a stoic look on his face. But his eyes were reddened, telling Rex everything he needed about how the other trooper was really feeling about the entire situation.

Both jerked too when Obi-Wan breath wheezed and stuttered again, the boy twitching on the bed in pain despite being unconscious as his heart rate spiked for a few moments. Then it went back to the new normal.

The poison had given Obi-Wan arrhythmia and the skipping of the heartbeat made Rex mouth fill with saliva each time he heard it, the nausea rising its head like an angry viper.

Still he made no motion to leave.

He couldn’t.

He needed more information, needed to know that Obi-Wan was going to be alright, that they had gotten the boy to the healers in time, that Kix had kept their commander stable long enough for it to matter.

The door opened and both troopers turned abruptly, watching as General Skywalker walked in.

The man looked pale, tired and he jerked in surprise at seeing them.

Then he relaxed a moment later, a weak smile crossing his face that threatened to send Rex to his knees at the implication of it. “Should have figured I’d find you two here.” The Jedi murmured, making his way in to sit down Obi-Wan’s bedside, gently grasping the hand not fitted with an IV line.

“Sir.. is… will Obi-Wan…” Fox spoke up, not as familiar with Anakin as Rex.

Letting out a deep sigh, Anakin gave the commander a small smile. “At ease. Obi-Wan will be fine, we got the antidote into him quickly enough to prevent permanent damage,” He murmured, watching both troopers slump with their relief, Fox holding onto the foot of the bed end for support. “He’ll need a few weeks to recover, that’s a given but he will recover, make no doubt about that.” He continued quietly.

Rex ran his shaking hand over his face.

Great stars, he wasn’t going to loose his little commander just yet, not this one and he sent off of a prayer to every goddess and god he knew of that might listen and one to the Force just for precaution, thanking all of them for not taking Obi-Wan away.

“What worries me,” Anakin continued, both looking back to the Jedi. “Is the fact that someone tried to finish Obi-Wan off and that someone was on Coruscant.” He gave both of them a meaningful look as he sat there with Obi-Wan’s hand in his lap.

Fox and Rex traded looks.

They had worried about that too but their worry about Obi-Wan’s life had taken priority.

Now that they knew their vod’ika would be fine, that he would just need time, the thought was once more back.

“…I’ll send out feelers into the underworld on Coruscant,” Fox stated grimly, eyes dropping to Obi-Wan’s swollen one. His lips pulled into a thin line as he stared at the little Jedi and then he moved forward, carefully stroking his hand over Obi-Wan’s forehead. “Rest up Birdie. I’ll come see you again.” He promised softly.

Below the gaze of the three, Obi-Wan continued sleeping, unaware of the direction his life would take.

What a dirty trick Paz. Hopefully Boba isn’t too mad Paz got scented first. Though I’m kinda mad Paz didn’t push away the omegas. Jealousy baiting isn’t healthy in any relationship. I actually liked Paz in this but now I’m unsure.

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Lol, okay so to be fair to Paz, he just doesn’t think about it that way. He only has eyes for Din as it is and was talking about canon repairs with the zabrak that stayed the longest. But also they are all idiot meatheads and Din just feels jeally cause omega/alphas are the traditional. Jelly Din!

Can’t wait for Din to meet Boba in need for touch! Also, I really hope Paz will catch up soon

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To be honest, Boba had the mandalorian clocked the moment he saw him, zipping over the dunes on his speeder and the few interactions he had seen before the man had left Tatooine.

He had known even before he was close enough to smell the other man or speak to him that this was an omega. It was all in the way the other behaved around the child, the way he kept him safe and yes, the creed of the mandalorians made children the most important thing.

But not everyone acted with younglings like an omega on instincts.

It was in the way the man kept scenting the child as best he could with what little skin he had exposed, in the way he cradled him close and Boba had seen others like the mandalorian before.

Omegas with pups had a certain way about them.

His own father had been the same and Jango was always fresh in Boba’s mind, even as he had lost the memory of his father’s voice and the way he smelled with the years.

But the way he behaved, the way he cradled Boba close to his chest and pressed his scent to Boba’s skin… no, that was something Boba would never forget.

It was one of the things that had made Boba hate his own alpha designation in his younger years when he finally presented, wanting to claw himself out of his skin as he wished for that connection to his father.

But he had been an unaltered clone, his designation, just like his personality, had formed on its own and sometimes he wondered if his buir would have been proud to see his son an alpha or just not really cared one way or another.

The clones had all been without secondary genders, except for the alphas and the nulls, the earliest of the clones where the Kamino’s had still been working on the DNA sequences. So maybe Boba should just be grateful he had a designation.

He had seen the issues the clones went through without having one, the way humans reacted to them, the way they seemed to be considered less. Some of them had even reacted that way to Boba when they saw his face, until they realized he wasn’t just a clone with a fake scent but a true alpha, ready to kark them up.

Boba had his designation and he had his life and he had made peace with many things in his life.

But what he couldn’t make peace with was the scent of distressed omega, the alpha in him sitting up and taking notice even as he tried to keep his distance.

He had a duty to help the man find his foundling for returning the armor, seeing how Djarin had lost everything, Boba might be the best one that could help him.

At least in the ship department and Boba was a capable man, his scar and stint in the sarlacc had done nothing to ruin his skills if they had turned rusty inside it. Training and muscle memory had fixed that however once he was out, hunting for his armor.

And Boba owed him a debt, one Djarin could trust, that Boba wouldn’t suddenly turn on him like the rest of the galaxy could.

Being in Slave 1, the scent was hard to escape and even Fennec was starting to show discomfort at it, the beta often glancing towards the hold where Djarin had holed up, manically checking, dismantling, cleaning and setting together his weapons again.

Finally, Boba let out a deep sigh and stood from the controls, giving Fennec a nod to take the controls before making his way to the doors. He could hear the woman’s relief as she switched seats.

Clearly she thought he’d deal with it and Boba intended to.

But if he was successful, that was something else.

Djarin is sitting on an ammo crate in the hold, a blaster in hand, simply cradling the weapon as if he realizes he can’t do more with it but can’t bring himself to put it down, as if he wishes he was cradling something else with how gentle his gloved hands are. Even without the scent, Boba would have been able to tell that this was a miserable man.

The bounty hunter sits slumped, his head bent down and he doesn’t even twitch when Boba steps in.

If it wasn’t for the way he was breathing, Boba could have been forgiven for thinking the man asleep.

Slowly, so not to set the other of, Boba makes his way over and sits down beside him, looking at the hands cradling the blaster. “…We’ll get him back to you,” He murmured quietly, watching the armor jerk a bit. “My debt to you isn’t over until your pup is with you.” Boba promised softly, carefully releasing some of his scent.

It could go either way, doing it but the mando slowly tilted his head towards Boba and he could hear  the other take a breath, pause then breath even deeper, twitching slightly on the crate.

If Boba was to take a guess, he’d imagine the omega wanted to press closer.

But Boba was a stranger, an unfamiliar alpha, to shift closer now was simply instincts and not caution and logical thoughts speaking.

But seeing as how his scent was helping, Boba released more of it, the distressed omega scent lessening slowly.

Sighing, Boba reached up and removed his helmet, ignoring how the mando twitched. Those who followed the Watch Creed was always a bit iffy about exposed faces. Never got it himself and Boba knew of enough mando that removed their helmets.

It was the loss of armor that was the real sanction for becoming dar’manda, not showing your face.

But to each their own and since the scent of distressed omega didn’t grow, Boba set his helmet down beside his feet, focusing on Djarin again. “…Think about your child scent.” He murmured quietly.

A quiet whine escaped the bounty hunter.

Slowly, Boba reached out and settled his hand on the others vembrace. “Think about the way you’ll hold him when you get him back,” He pushed gently. “Think about what you’ll say to him,” Djarin let out another whimper, dropping his forehead to Boba’s pauldron. “Think about what you’ll do to that demagolka that took him… and draw strength from all of it.” A small but sharp growl escaped the vocoder of the other.

Boba wasn’t sure if he had really helped the feisty, distressed omega but the scent of distressed omega had lessened, replaced by Boba’s own pheromones and the scent of angry omega.

The sharp kind of scent.

The kind of scent that made mandalorian alphas sit up and take notice as it was the kind of omega they wanted. The kind of scent that warned everyone to be on their best behavior or they would get fucked up.

Moff Gideon better have an army on his cruiser when they caught up with him and the child Boba thought with satisfaction, because he had a storm coming.

A storm in the form of a very pissed of, very protective omega. “Jate, we’ll get him back.” Boba promised, squeezing the others forearm gently.

LupineCopper- Who wins the fight? What happens when Ani gets back from his flight?

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“Sit.” Obi-Wan stated, watching the Sith.

Maul, glaring, did as told, settling down on the couch. He quickly pulled his legs up under himself and tucked his hands up in his lap, obeying his pack alpha much to Obi-Wan’s relief.

So far, the other had obeyed everything Obi-Wan told him.

Some with great reluctance of course but none of the orders Obi-Wan had for him were bad and it was clear the Sith was mostly just being a bit contrary because he had lost to Obi-Wan.

That wasn’t so bad.

Anakin crawled onto the couch too, ignoring Maul as he watched Obi-Wan hopefully. The boy had quickly understood the dynamic with Maul, that the other were wasn’t a danger because he was now under Obi-Wan’s leadership.

Anakin had also been watching when Obi-Wan tied the other were up, a for show thing for the nabooan’s more than anything and had seen how Maul folded, sulkily, to Obi-Wan’s command.

Maul had only once tried to disobey Obi-Wan, after waking up in the infirmary with the Jedi all around him and a sharp growl from the human had fixed that.

Sighing, Obi-Wan ran his hand over his hair before smiling at his pup. “I’m gonna heat some rations, okay? There’s also the fruit bowl.” He reminded the boy, smiling a bit wider at how Anakin perked up.

The blond instantly shot towards the small table to the side of the rooms that held said bowl, grabbing a large apple that he bit into with a loud crunch. Anakin had already asked if Maul wasn’t suppose to eat and Obi-Wan had explained to him that zabraks were carnivores.

They occasionally added supplementing things to their diet, like the occasional breaded things, fruits and whatever they wanted, but the majority of their food were meat.

Which was why Obi-Wan was grateful that he had restocked his own supplies when they were on Coruscant.

As a human, Obi-Wan could eat anything and be healthy from it. Maul needed more meat and therefore Obi-Wan had started feeding the man the jerky Obi-Wan had originally packed for himself.

Making his way over to his bags, he pulled out his ‘Carnivore’ bag as Qui-Gon playfully called it, ignoring how Maul almost piteously perked up with hope, the Sith trying to hide his reaction to the prospect of food.

Maul’s reaction to the things around him told Obi-Wan a lot of things.

Like the fact that whoever had trained him, both the wolf and the man, was a cruel being.

Maul didn’t need to tell Obi-Wan that, he could read it in the reaction Maul had to simple and even kind touches, the wary eyes, the way he ducked his head when Obi-Wan was close and the way he practically scarfed down the food initially.

Whoever had power over Maul, they had used it harshly and turned the other cruel in response to his own pain.

Which was why Obi-Wan was doing his best not to treat Maul too badly with the power he had. A bit hard yes, he expected to be obeyed he had made clear, he couldn’t allow the other to act out, what if he hurt Anakin?

But not cruelly, there was a difference between discipline and cruelty.

Quietly, Obi-Wan held out a full bag of jerky to the other, waiting patiently until Maul snatched the bag with a little grumble, the other tucking his chin down as he pulled himself even more together on the couch.

But he started to eat, no longer watching Obi-Wan with wary eyes and waiting until he had made distance before he would eat, as if he expected the food to be snatched away to begin with.

No, now he ate, still watching Obi-Wan of course but not scarfing it all down.

It was progress, just as Obi-Wan had made progress with Anakin.

It was slow going but Obi-Wan’s pack would recover from what life had been thrown at them. And if a small, stifled part of Obi-Wan, the part that had longed for a larger pack when it was just him and Qui-Gon, was preening contently as he feed Anakin too… well, no one but Obi-Wan had to know.

Oh no is padme one of those senators in dangerous galaxy??

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Staring, Cody wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing.

This was one of the last things he had been expecting when he had entered the lounging room behind Senator Amidala’s office, the space where she entertained guests and made less official negotiations possible.

Or well, he knew WHAT but the why was kinda escaping him.

Anakin however perked up when the captain and the commander stepped in, waving his gloved mech hand at them since his other was resting on the table beside him, his fingernails glittery blue as he sat reclined back in an upholstered chair. “Rex, Cody! Hey, you’re here.”

In front of him, in a similar chair that had obviously been dragged closer, Padme Amidala sat with the Jedi’s feet in her lap, completely focused on painting the nails on the left foot, the other already finished.

Those too were also covered in glittery blue nail polish.

She gave an absent greeting, clearly wanting to focus on doing her job correctly.

“What’s going on here?” Rex managed to get out, voice strained and Cody could just feel the way the other was tempted to go for the blaster.

Technically, she was touching the Jedi.

But this seemed…

Harmless.

And Anakin Skywalker looked happy, so this wasn’t some kind of feminization kink or humiliation thing, not with how content he looked and Cody had seen both Obi-Wan and Anakin with painted nails before actually.

“Nail painting?” Anakin glanced at the preoccupied senator then back at them. “Padme tries to make sure that when I’m on Coruscant, no one else can request me. Bail tries to do the same for Obi-Wan. But we were kinda bore-”

Senator Amidala let out a huge snort. “You were bored, I was doing my paperwork.” She sniffed delicately before straightening, smiling happily as she picked up the polish bottle from the table and screwed the brush in.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so I was bored. I forgot to bring my tech this time. Excuuuuse me.” He pouted at her.

‘They’re friends.’ The realization hit Cody like a hammer and he felt something deflate inside him.

Relief maybe.

Because for the first time since this entire thing started, they have allies, allies with power that can keep the Jedi safe.

Or at least do SOMETHING.

Finally, the Senator finishes up and pats Anakin’s foot, smiling at him before turning her eyes to Rex and Cody. “Please, take a seat. I apologize for not offering sooner but I was never really good at painting nails and I need to focus when I do it.” She sighed slightly.

Grabbing chairs, the two troopers did as told, settling down as Padme lifted a piece of white machinery from the table. Turning it on, it lit up in blue and she held it over the nails she had just painted.

If Cody was to take a guess, it was something to make the nail polish dry quicker likely.

Rex was still vibrating a bit, most likely the leftover rage and adrenaline more than anything and clearly Anakin realized it by the way he sent the captain a concerned look.

Thankfully though, he said nothing as Amidala instead started talking. “Bail and I, along with a few of the more agreeable senators have been trying to get rid of the…” She trailed off, her eyes twitching a bit before she sighed deeply. “The servitude the Jedi order has to the Senate. Unfortunately the Senate moves slowly and quite a few are very unwilling to give up on it.” Amidala stated bitterly, staring down at Anakin’s feet on her lap, tilting the machine in her hand lightly to turn the light.

Cody and Rex exchanged glances as Anakin made his focus his own finger nails, studying how they glittered in the light.

But his ears were red, a sign of his humiliation.

“Is…is there anything we can do?” Cody finally questioned.

That got him a wry smile along with something steely in Amidala’s expression, her eyes darting to Anakin before back to Cody. “Well, unless you have power in the Senate or storm it, I don’t think so.” She stated in a light tone.

Cody felt his breath catch a bit.

She knew.

Or at the very least she suspected.

And would work with the clones since she gotten Anakin to invite them here to this private moment.

That was… a surprise, Padme Amidala’s ideals for peace and justice were strong.

But what was happening to the Jedi order, to the clones and to many of the outer and middle core planets were injustice. Injustice that the Senate did not move to aid or fix. “I see… you help the Jedi then?” He glanced at Anakin too.

Perking up at that, Anakin nodded. “Padme tries to take our slots as best she can. She can’t always help or even help everyone, neither can Senator Organa. But they try, they and a few others.” He grinned happily.

‘Can’t always help.’ The word stuck with Cody and he could spot the Senator hand curving almost protectively around the bump of Anakin’s ankle, as if she could shield the bigger man from the threat other Senators posed.

Can’t always meant that some had asked for Anakin.

Looking at the Senator, Cody waited until she lifted her eyes to meet his. Only then did he give a vicious smile, watching how her eyes widened in surprise before she matched it.

The Troopers had an ally with teeth.

I looove your works <3 If you have time, I would like to propose this: Din waking up from a nightmare and Boba going into a full daddy mode, comforting him. Thank you!

Posted on av swmoddy

The coldness of the ocean burned him as it found every gap and opening of his armor, his kute unable to keep out the amount as the salt gagged him and his rushing of the ocean covered his own cries.

But not the cries of his kid.

Of Grogu.

Grogu is gone, the Jedi has him and Din is drowning in the icy cold ocean of Trask without a friendly soul in sight.

Din had to get out but every time he got up, every time he reached for the metal bars above him he was showed back down into the water, to choke on more water as someone laughed and laughed and leered about his beskar.

His lungs hurt and his body felt heavy but more than that, behind the dark shadows above pushing him back down every time he made progress in getting out of the water was the sight of Boba that caught his attention.

Boba was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, face indifferent to Din’s suffering and Din felt the need to scream as he tried to reach for the man, trying to call for him despite the water filling his lungs, burning his limbs in their coldness.

Boba cocked his head at him, a considering tilt to his helmet before he simply turned, his jetpack firing up, simply disappearing into the sky.

Boba leaves him and Din cries out for his buir’ika, feeling like he’s about to shatter as he’s left behind again and Din can’t take it, he’s going t-”DIN!” A voice roars, arms around him as he’s brought out of the water shockingly, flailing in the grip before jerking away as best he can and throwing up.

For a moment, he’s so out of it that he can’t make heads or tail of anything, gasping and shuddering as he’s caught between reality and fantasy.

But slowly, as his breathing mellows down, the world comes into focus with Boba’s frantic whispering in his ear and the warm arms keeping him against Boba’s chest, the others hands on his chest.

He is not in the water and he’s not on Trask, Trask is far behind him, months and months by now and Trask was before he had ever meet Boba or been held by him or called him buir’ika.

Din is on Tatooine, he’s in the King’s suite of the palace, Boba’s palace in their warm bed. It must be around early morning, some slight light already making its way between the gaps of the curtain of the window and its enough to let Din see that he’s vomited onto the floor.

At least that’s some good news, vomiting in bed is never pleasant and is a whole more of a process to clean up.

Then there is the idea of throwing up on Boba…

Well, that would be humiliating, Din has done it once before already but he’d rather not repeat it, regardless how kind Boba had been during the entire stomach bug episode.

As he’s no longer struggling, Boba eases up his grip but only slightly, enough to ease one hand up to touch Din’s sweaty face, the scarred face popping into view in the half light. “Are you with me now sweetheart?” He questioned quietly, brows furrowed.

Swallowing thickly, Din nodded. “Yes, sorry.” He managed to croak, groaning faintly as Boba slowly shifted them, clearly intent on sitting up.

It was the last thing Din wanted but he still shifted with Boba until they were sitting against the headboard, Din’s back still to Boba’s chest. The lamp on Boba’s side is turned on, Din blinking blearily at the sharper light and by the time his eyes adjust, Boba is holding the canteen he keeps on his bedside for Din to take.

Taking it, Din swishes his mouth with water and swallows, the taste of bile disappearing before drinking more of the chilled water. He dazedly wonders why its cold before his brain reminds him that Boba invested in a fancy canteen that keeps the content chilled down, a wry smirk on the other man’s  scarred face when he told Din he liked to drink cold water in the heat.

His shaky thoughts are cut off as the other speaks up. “You were having a nightmare.” Boba’s chest rumbles against Din’s back as the thicker man murmurs and Din sinks more into the others chest at the reminder, swallowing thickly before taking in more water.

He nods but says nothing, replaying the nightmare in his head. It makes him shudder, his heart rabbiting as he remembers how indifferent Boba had looked in the nightmare.

He had never looked at Din like that.

Not even when they first meet.

Boba shifts behind him, his hands shifting to cup Din’s stomach instead, rubbing slowly, likely feeling how hard Din’s heart his beating. It worries him and a part of Din, still anxious from the dream, eases slightly. “Din, plea-”

“You left me,” Din whispered, the words cutting off Boba. “I… I was drowning and… and you left me.” He swallows thickly before turning around, holding the canteen tightly as he presses his face into Boba’s neck.

The warm body goes unnaturally still for a moment before Boba’s arms practically crushes Din to his chest. “You listen to me and you listen well, Din Djarin,” Boba whispered, voice fierce and low and Din has spent months listening and obeying that voice. He’s helpless to do anything but listen. “You are mine and I am never letting you go. They’ll have to pry you away from me,” His voice is almost vicious and then it soften, Boba’s scarred hand slowly stroking over the back of Din’s head, down his nape and settling on his upper back. “I love you too much to let you go now.” He confessed brokenly.

It should scare him, incense him, the idea of being kept and chained, of Boba’s vicious voice telling him he won’t let Din go but Din is also the King of Tatooine’s Princess. Boba’s chains are not the chains of slavery and Boba lets him fly when he wants to. Din leaves on bounties when his restlessness gets the better of him.

Boba’s words aren’t those of enslavement and servitude.

They’re promises of Din always having somewhere to go, of Boba’s love, of a safe place to put his head down.

The promise in those words makes Din sniffle a bit against the warm skin of Boba’s neck, still clutching the canteen as he swallows thickly in an attempt to stem the slow tears.

When he still says nothing, Boba shakes him slightly with his arms still around Din. “Do you understand me Din? I’m not letting you go. I’ll follow you anywhere if you leave me.” He whispered against Din’s temple, lips brushing gently against the skin that’s rapidly cooling with cold sweat now.

Manda, something must be wrong with Din but that promise soothes him, the realization that Boba won’t let him go.

Hiccuping a bit, Din nodded. “I-I get it. I get it Boba. I love you too. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He resisted the urge to whimper and simply let Boba arrange him into his body, feeling the canteen being plucked out of his clutching hands.

It gone, Din clutches Boba’s thin sleep shirt instead, hiccuping as he cries quietly into the older man’s neck.

Din has a place, his place is here and Boba won’t leave him.

Din won’t be left alone again.