Oh damn! I really need to know if Din is gonna be fine in sweet princess 0.0 boba will be by his side during the recovery, right?
Waking slowly, Din kept his breathing soft and his mind steady as his body started feeding him input of what was going on. It was a technique he had developed while hunting. Panicking helped no one, least of all oneself if you were alone in a volatile situation. Therefore, Din had forced his mind to cope with the situation, so he could later, when he was safe, scream and cry about it.
His body ached but it was a dull thudding ache along with muscle stiffness and the smell of sickly sweetness hung in the air, the kind that came from overripe fruits, lingered in his nose with an undercurrent of sterile chemicals only used one place.
A medical facility.
That meant Din was safe, or at the very least somewhere that didn’t wish him harm.
There was a squeeze of his right hand and Din felt his entire being relax with the certainty of safety, because he recognized the scarred, callused hand wrapped around his.
Boba, his Boba.
Opening his sore eyes slowly, noting that his left eye felt sore, Din tilted his head to look, meeting the relieved amber ones of Boba as the man tightened his grasp on Din’s hand. For a long moment, they just stared at each other and then Boba leaned in, pressing their foreheads together as Boba let out a shuddering breath, the lack of armor making it easier for the two to press in close to each other. “Din… Din.” He whispered, voice thick, as if he didn’t know what else to say other than to repeat Din’s name.
Not that Din minded. He liked it when Boba said his name, so few had used his name before and having Boba say it… It brought him warmth.
Squeezing the others hand, Din let out a low, raspy noise. The sound had Boba twitching and then he shifted, holding onto Din’s hand and honestly, Din was grateful. The other leaning away gave Din a moment to glance about.
This was clearly a medbay, the room was sterile but instead of utterly polished white, it had a more snow like color, giving the walls a tint of blue. It was soothing and Din found himself relaxing more at the sight.
There were no windows. The only light was the fixtures above them, but that was understandable if they were back in the palace. Leaving the medbay with windows could let in grains that were the last thing a medic would want. Sand was a contaminant that could get into injuries, samples or medical liquids.Din knew that sand could ruin bacta and lead to infection. Sand-spoiled bacta sealed the sand inside the wound. The body reacted to the foreign contaminant as it was ‘programmed’ to do, attacking newly healing wounds which also house small invaders. Everything could become necrotic far too fast after that.
To the north of the room, Din could spot four doors. Squinting at them, he suspected that one was a fresher and hopefully a shower was in there, unless Boba took Din back to their room. Another door, he suspected, was the office of the medic, though he couldn’t parse out what the last two doors might lead to.
A surgery room?
A medical storage room for equipment?
Maybe a room for cleaning equipment that the medic had set up.
The medic…
Russal, the zabrak, wide red eyes and yellow skin with black tattoos practically absorbing the sun from the window above Din.
The memory was faint and Din swallowed thickly as he tried to push the memory away.
He didn’t want to think about it as he instead looked to the south of the room where there was a third door. This one Din suspected would lead out into the rest of the palace and faintly, Din wondered where in the palace these medical spaces had been set up.
Boba’s hand tightened on his and Din focused back on the other, letting out a happy noise when he saw the cup with a small spout on it. He quickly raised his head from the pillow he was laying on. A small smile crossed Boba’s lips and he set the spout to Din’s cracked lips, carefully pouring in a small amount of water, waiting for Din to swallow and then repeating until the cup was empty.
Shockingly, the water was cold.
Or maybe it just felt cold to Din. Because Din knew that the thin, white sheet with faint pink tinge covering him must be stiff and the mattress beneath him hard, but after the days he had, it all felt lovely to him.
With the thought of the last few days however, Din was reminded of his hand and dropped his head back against the pillow to tilt it, looking at his left hand.
He paused when he saw the pinkish orb locked around his hand as it rested along his side, staring at the gel like substance wrapped around his hand, a hand that had all five fingers with an IV attached through the gel to the top of his hand, leading to a bag hanging on a pole.
Confused, Din turned his head to Boba, eyes as wide as he could get them at the moment, full of questions. “Russal attached your fingers,” Boba stated, seeing what had Din so confused. “He said that your fingers might not be as functional as before, though physical therapy would help you recover somewhat.” He continued more quietly.
Nodding slowly with understanding, letting his mind mull over that information, Din slowly looked back to his hand. From what he could see, his hand looked undamaged, he couldn’t even see a scar through the gel where he knew they had been severed.
“…Can you move them?” Boba queried quietly, his grip tight on Din’s other hand.
Licking his still chapped lips, Din brow furrowed as he focused on his hand, thumb, index and middle finger easily pulling in towards his palm. The ring finger followed, slower but still moved by Din’s muscles.
The pinkie finger however he could tell was barely responding to Din’s decision to make a fist, was simply pulling along due to the tendons in his hands. That had been the first finger to go and it made sense that it was worse off.
Resting his fingertips against his palm, Din let out a shaky breath, feeling his hand throb inside the gel orb before he slowly straightened his fingers out once more. He couldn’t quite straighten his pinkie however and Din sighed deeply as he looked to Boba.
The other looked thrilled, having watched closely. “That’s… that’s better than Russal suspected. He stated that you might not be able to move either.” He breathed out heavily and looking closely, Din saw how tired the other man.
“…Have you slept at all?” He whispered shakily, grunting when Boba grimaced heavily.
Tugging at the others hand, Din gave him a pleading look. “Din… love…” Boba weakly protested, glancing to what Din had suspected was the office.
Clearly the other was thinking he had to inform the medic that Din was awake.
“Please… we can… can deal with everything in the morning,” Din pleaded, tugging again. When Boba wavered, Din spoke again. “I just want you to hold me… make me feel safe.” He wished his voice didn’t sound as broken.
Instantly Boba’s scarred face softened and he shifted, reaching down. If he was honest, it took Din an embarrassingly long moment to realize the other was removing his boots. But finally, finally Boba crawled onto the narrow medical bed, carefully shifting Din around until they were curled up on their sides and into each other, Din’s head settled under Boba’s chin and against his cloth covered chest and his healing hand suited onto Boba’s hip for support.
The warmth of the others body was a godsend and Din sniffled quietly as Boba’s hands slowly rubbed his back.
Boba didn’t smell good, the scent of souring sweat hung on him, but Din couldn’t bring himself to care a lick about it. He was sure he didn’t smell any better after all those days in captivity, unless someone had given him a sponge bath.
And by the feel of his own hair as Boba’s hand came up to stroke it for a few moments, Din highly doubted that.
He must be so gross, but he was still so tired and he didn’t want to move from Boba’s body or grasp. “You’re safe, you’re here. I have you, I have you Din. I have you love, my sweetheart. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Boba whispered, his voice a tad frantic, as if he was assuring himself as much as Din.
But Boba was right.
He was safe, he was home and in Boba’s arms and that was all he had wanted those lonely days abducted by those that wanted to force Boba to give them things.
“I know…” Din agreed in a quiet rasp, nuzzling slowly. “I’m in your arms after all, my Boba, my buir’ika.” He smiled shakily, Boba’s arms tightening around his body at the words.
Safe.
SWpromptsandask 