Chapter Text
The once Mandalorian listened to another one of Fennec’s plans - Well, somewhat; With a mind still filled to the brim from the conversations he had hours ago. It was difficult to stay on track, and be fully aware of the situation Boba ( and all of Tatooine ) were in. Fennec went on about a strategy where they don’t have enough muscle needed for this upcoming battle - But Din wasn’t too worried. The Marshal with a town that symbolizes freedom, wouldn’t let the Pykes Syndicate run their planet. They’ll fight for the unruly sand beneath their feet. Din was sure of that much.
What was worrisome is the sudden commotion coming from the palace entrance; Loud pleading drew the group in. Din recognized the voice - Jo, the young girl Cobb always referred to, was now trying to push a Gamorrean guard aside. Calling out for the Mandalorian that her Marshal kept in high regard, “please! Please save him!! Mando please, we can’t lose him?!” She fell into sobs at the Gamorrean’s feet, repeating her words of desperation that only got worse when Din was meters away. Jo latches onto him ‘causing the mandalorian to stiffen, but he still tries to sooth her.
Then she’ll finally tell him, “someone shot Cobb!? Th- they shot him, and he was loosing so much blood!! We don’t-“ her voice cracks. “We don’t have enough medical supplies, and - and he was refusing — He’s so stubborn!! An’ I just left.. Because I knew you could help, bu -but what if he died while I was gone?!” Din could hear the pain soaked in the youngster’s tone, all hovering at the surface, unlike her. He wanted to panic just as much, Cobb was shot, his mind would chant. He didn’t know what to do, he just froze - It was Boba who helped them, asking what happen, and then assuring the girl they’ll do what they can.
Which is exactly what Boba does, much to Fennec’s initial uneasiness of the whole thing; They head out to Fett’s ship, leaving one of the others to take Jo’s speeder back - As she clung to the mandalorian. Both were dazed, and lost in thought while taking the short trip back to Freetown. Fennec asked questions that Jo vaguely answered, beating around the bush, saying that Cobb wouldn’t want her blabbing. The older woman tells her straight, done with her little girl games, and harshly interrogates Jo. However this only worsens the girl’s anxiety, making her ramble on about the figure cobb went up against, but not making much sense. So Boba cuts Fennec down before Din could have any say.
When they get to the settlement, it’s deathly quiet - Jo tells them everyone’s sheltered in their homes for the day. ( With no marshal around to help with the daily work, beings were at a lost. Worried. Distress. It was as thick as the smothering heat. An outsider would tastes it. ) The girl hurries off the ship, the first time she let go of Din since taking hold of him, and runs to the nearest house, yelling. The bartender with a cheeky tongue, comes out to meet her. Speaking in a language unfamiliar to the group, but Jo answers back in sorrow before going into the house. That bartender stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a queried face. Yet he doesn’t say anything as the trio; Din, Fennec, and Boba enter the home.
It was a fairly small place, but that’s expected with being on the edge of town. Feeling crowded with even just the trio there. The home seemed lived in, pictures, tools and gadgets laying disorderly about. They’d even have to walk around a small machine in the middle of floor. Din, with what little he knows of the Marshal, feels a bit sad. He doesn’t know what he was hoping to see at Cobb’s home, it just - A workshop wasn’t it. To him, this place was full of distractions, things that keep them from facing thoughts. An it felt wrong to Din. An he can’t figure out.. Why?
“Din,” Boba calls when said man was staring a little too long at the forgotten project, laying out in the open. He’ll look up to find the man’s helmet off, and head titling towards the light sobbing coming from the hall. He joins Boba, who instructed Fennec to stay back so she can have a chat with the bartender. The two go into Cobb’s room; finding a doctor, grimly standing to the side, and Jo at the bedside holding the man’s hand. Cobb’s shaking hand. The marshal didn’t make a sound, but it’s easy to tell he’s in deep pain, from the sight of him. Curled into a fetuses position, hugging himself, and straining his muscles to seem relax. Din hated what he saw, feeling as if this is his fault. Maybe if he’d stayed longer? Maybe if he didn’t take the armour? Cobb would be fine.
The medical woman let’s them know of the injury, how it should’ve killed him because of it’s proximities to his chest. But he was as stubborn as ever, Jo adds while planting a soft kiss to his hand. She’ll turn to the two, “please help him.” Jo pleads, “he’ll say his fine. But - buh.” The man grunted, half smiling at the girl and gripping her hand right back before trying to push himself up. Seeming unsettled by everyone’s gaze, watching his every move, from what Din felt. But the doctor stops him.
“I-“ Cobb spoke, “I really w- eh - will be fine you two.. Don’t worry,” he’ll force a chuckled that sounds hollow to Din’s ears. “Mando,” he look to him, and the man steps closer. “Do me another favour. Will y’ah?… Scott - Ehm,” he’ll clutch his shoulder, deeply groaning, tears brewing at the corner of his eyes. “My deputy, remember him,” Cobb sounds breathless, but that cheesy smile never leaves his lips. Only ever faltering here and there because of pain. “Please, help him. He was shot pretty bad, and it’s- it’s my fault.” He’ll close his eyes, brows furrowing from the memories flooding back. “I should’ve been more stern… Or something, that poor kid.”
“We’ll get you both the treatment needed,” Boba said when Din didn’t say anything in return - being too scared to speak, he’s grateful. Jo let’s them know they basically used all of their Bacta on the, idiotic, deputy, and he’s stable now. Completely out, but stable. The town was now just worried about their Marshal, all isolated in his home after a blaster shot, as he preferred. ( Trying so hard to lick his wounds on his own, like he couldn’t rely on his town. ) The Mandalorian knew nothing of it, but was getting a good picture right now, when Cobb shook his head.
Boba spoke firmly; “There’s a Bacta tank at the palace, if we go now your Lawman won’t even be scarred.” He’d talk to them all, yet it felt like he was directing something at Din, that he can’t pick apart. The brunette focusing on Cobb’s head movements. Still refusing help, Jo grumbled before speaking her mind and looking her Marshal in the eye. Tension built, but crumbled when Cobb ruffles her curls, finally saying okay. Then apologizes to her for being a stink’en Bantha, which gets her to smile back. The stinkiest.
“Could you help me up, partner?” He’d ask with a sheepish look, awkwardly trying to sit up again - just to be pushed down by the doc. ( Saying the less movement he makes, the better. ) So Din did what was practical - after Jo moved out of the way; He’ll pick Cobb’s frail body up, way lighter than expected. Even through his armour he could feel the man vibrate. Cobb groans at the sudden jostle, but gets comfortable within the Mandalorian’s armoured arms. If his visor didn’t alter his vision, he would’ve saw the light blush brushing across their freckled face. Din hadn’t even known he had freckles..
They’ll keep Cobb from drifting, seemly very tired, but responsive of anything Jo throws at him. ( Which were memories; Many coming from when Cobb found the young girl, alone and scared without a family. An how his generosity made an environment she could thrive in. ) They chatted all the way to Boba’s palace, even got the injured man to genuinely laugh - that, sadly, leads to a coughing fit. Cobb pressed closer into Din until he finally calmed down, the hacking soothing just as they got off Boba’s ship. An if things didn’t feel so serious, Din may have blushed, too.
The group split up, Jo going off to finally answer some of Fennec’s questions, after Cobb gave her the go. Leaving the three males to go straight to Boba’s Chambers, where the Bacta tank awaits. Din held Cobb snug in his armour, carefully about her movements ‘til placing him on the tank’s cushion. He’ll apologize when seeing the grim face Cobb made, muffling a small yelp. Cobb hasn’t the time to joke around, since Boba interrupts with a putrid smelling liquid; “Drink,” is all he says.
Cobb stared long enough for the bald man to repeat himself, raising the drink higher. He’ll look to Din for confirmation, which is a bit.. Uplifting, to the Mandalorain. An when the man nods, “it’s safe.” Cobb takes the cup, hesitation in his eyes before he shoots it down. Grimacing at the tastes, and saying something snarky after it’s gone, handing the cup back. Boba smiles at the two, shakes his head and says; “You know exactly how a Bacta tank works — right?” Cobb nods slowly, “good. So leave your clothes-“
“My clothes,” there’s a shot of panic seeping from Cobb’s throat when he cuts Boba off. Eyes wide like the idea was absolutely absurd. The two take note, before Boba reinforces the idea, because Din wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He doesn’t know, can’t force himself to think it through. The salt and pepper haired male’s words bring him back to the situation at hand; “Usually- Eh, can’t I just leave my clothes on? It won’t causes problems..” he’d ask, voice hollow once more. “I just- I don’t want to take my clothes off. Please.”
“.. hm - afraid not, Vanth.” Boba tells him, “we don’t know what states you’ll be in when the drugs kick in. It’s safe you’re in breeches,” he’ll pat the stiff man’s back, trying to be comforting - Din thinks. “Unarmed,” the man adds. Then goes on about a time him and Fennec rushed an ally into the tank, only for them to be hostile afterwards. Memories fogged. It was turmoil, which proceeds into another story, then another that Cobb was getting groggy from, beginning to lean on Din. He’ll freeze up, before thawing out from the warmth of Cobb. An Din knew the drugs were slowly taking affect.
The older man humming suddenly, a melancholy tone unfamiliar to the two - but not to another. Jo, who appears in the doorway, adds a lullaby to that sad melody. An the humming comes to an end, just as quickly as it started. Cobb’s head popping up, “Jo, my darlin’ !!” He slurred, head titling before he waves to the young girl. A goofy smile on his face that she’ll giggle at, “I’m glad to see your spirit again, marshal.”
“That’s a forgotten tongue,” Boba butts in, a look of surprise, remembrance on his features. “An ancient language from the first Tusken Raiders of Tatooine.. How do you know it?” Boba questions the girl, a brow raised. But this time Cobb was there with a refined; “Yup!” Before returning to humming, eyes closing shut as he slipped into his own world. Somewhere peaceful. Back to leaning on Din. As Fennec walks around the girl, and straight to Boba, scowling.
Jo would shrug, “I just thought it was something Cobb made up?.. He’d tell us stories from his childhood, well the good side.” She’ll look to the side briefly. “An this lullaby was almost always in them - some of the older towns people know it too. Even speak it. But most were taught by Cobb,” she’ll tell them, her brown eyes lingering on her marshal. “He’d use them as codes, though I don’t think anyone really knows what they mean..”
Before Boba can ask anything further, Fennec grips his arm, whispering who Cobb’s assaulter was, making him forget everything else. Going a few shades paler. “Are you certain,” is what’s said instead. “Does this shit planet have two suns?” Is what Fennec response with, arms crossing over her chest. “Blue asshole,” she’ll mutter, thinking about her many encounters with that bounty hunter; “Cad, fucking, Bane.. We’ll have to go over another plan if he’s involved.” Fennec spits that Boba immediately reprimands her for, because these were his personal corridors, and they didn’t live in a cattle shelter. Fennec just says, “we might as well be livestock!” Walking away while muttering under her breath, leaving Boba to excuse them. An then group was back to three.
Jo walks up to the two, a cheeky smile on her face ‘til Din reminds the two he hasn’t actually gotten treatment yet. “Then what’s taking so long?!” She’ll demand with a pout, resembling the child she is, causing a tug at Din lips. But then it comes back, and the Mandalorian’s head titles away slightly. Right, the clothing issue - Din doesn’t have any horror stories of his own, but if what Boba said was true.. Then-
The humming abruptly stops, “that’s right!” It seems Cobb remembered too, head popping up from Din’s chest plate. “My little mando, partner here,” he’ll lazily raise his arms to present him. “Was going to strip me. So I suggest you skedaddle, young one.” He say like it wasn’t really embarrassing to, something only Din seem to feel. That Jo’s brow rose at, squinting at the Mandalorian, even as he explained. She’ll chuckle after a moment of silence, calling the man a prude to her Marshal’s harmless teasing.
“Gotta keep you on your toe, Mando.” She said, patting his back, “your hand are full with this one.” Jo nudged him teasingly, before giving her attention back to Cobb. “You play nice! An don’t be weird,” she’ll say in a stern voice. Cobb would giggle with a crooked grin, saluting her off as she leaves. A smug smirk plastered across both their features, as if they were planning something. It kind of unnerved Din for some reason.
An then the group became a duo; Two souls scared to look at one another, both not really understand why. Of course, it’s Cobb who breaks it first - A shy look to him as he says he’s been needing a doctor. Din shakes his head, “I’m no doctor.” Cobb chuckles, slouching back on his arms that Mando disapproves of. “We’re trying to get you healed, nothing else is happening here, Cobb. Those drugs are making your systems not register the pain anymore.. An’ loopy,” Din sighed.
The older man gives a short hum, and looks away, “my pain tolerance.. Iss- a lot higher than most.” He mumbled, his hazel gaze looking out one of the large windows, briefly, but the sight makes his face scrunch up. An Din isn’t sure what Cobb was expressing, it just felt wrong. Hateful. Even under the drugs’ influence. It didn’t suite the Marshal.
“Well.. Should we get to it? Or can you do it by yourself?” He’d asks, despite knowing Cobb couldn’t, not now - Din still felt the need to. The old man doesn’t respond, looking to his hands that fidgeted on his lap. “Cobb, I’m asking for permission?” The Mandalorian spoke softly, it didn’t carry through the communicators in his helmet, but they were close enough for the Marshal to hear him. A clearly sign from his shocked gaze, swiftly back on Mando, what? He’d say — “I’m asking for permission to help you.. Out of your clothes.” Din curses his, out of nowhere, shyness that was very prominent. The other chuckles lightly.
Cobb’s features soften to something Din wasn’t quiet used to, especially from the Marshal. Yet it kind of resembled the relieved look he had after the Krayt Dragon battle. He smiled, “I’d give you permission to anything..” They both become flustered from the statements, as if they were teenagers again. “I permit you take my clothes off, partner,” Cobb quickly tease, and adverts her eyes to hide from his dopey declaration. Din grins just a tad, nodding before slowly bring his gloved hand to Cobb’s scarf — But just as he tugged at the bandanna, the Marshal grabs Din’s wrist. His hold strong and harsh, startling the other. “I - I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. Reflects...” Cobb let’s go, sliding his hands beneath his thighs, preventing them from moving.
The Mandalorian double checks, concerned, but Cobb tells him to continue - he wasn’t used to this anymore. ( He didn’t pry, even if he really wanted to. ) He’ll remove the scarf, being so close; Din can see shock-collar scars clear as day, putting a bad taste in his mouth. The marshal took a second to lift his arms, so Din can pull his thin shirt over. An when he does, it takes everything in him not to gasp at the amount of scars littering this freedom fighter’s body. They just went on and on, and the Mandalorian understood the hesitance now. However Cobb doesn’t say anything, so neither does Din. Not even when the older male just sat in his breeches, after the awkward process of getting his belt and pants off, that is. An Din work to remove the bandages covering his chest, getting Cobb to turn around. He’s met with the worse of it, long jagged scars taking up everything with a ugly symbol carved in the middle of it.
Cobb told Mando he’d live through slavery, but the man didn’t know the extent of it. Which upset him greatly. Wanting to know who exactly did this to this hopeful soul, and beat them just as they done to Cobb. It was sickening. Din’s fist clutches tight enough for him to feel them whiten, pieces of bandages still in his hand.
“.. Wasn’t wha’ you’d hope for, huh?” Cobb was croaky, looking over his shoulder with a sorrowful, dull gaze. Din only saw it for a moment, as Cobb would quickly look away again. Avoiding eye contact.
“You’ve no expectations to fill, Cobb.” The Mandalorian said, “this,” he touch his back, making the other jump at the suddenly contact. “It’s just part of you… You decide how you feel about it, my opinion shouldn’t matter.” Cobb nods, slow and seemingly in thought. Din sighs, hand withdrawing before he tells him to lay down now. “Get comfortable,” he’ll say, helping the salt and pepper haired male.
Cobb grabs his wrist once more; However it was way lighter this time, and there’s a fearful look on his face. “Could you.. Could you stay ‘till I fall asleep?.. Please.” He whispered so low and small like, Din could’ve missed it. But he didn’t. When Cobb let go, the brunette hand slips into theirs, with the tiniest of squeezes.
“Okay,” he’d say without any thought, because he didn’t need to think about this. “An’ I’ll be here when you wake,” Din gave another squeeze. Another attachment brewed in his chest that’s against his creed - his once creed, but it was worth it. The gentle look Cobb gives him.. He couldn’t take back his words, if he knows the Marshal would look at him like that. Thanking him for doing the bare minimum, to just be there when he falls into slumber. It aches Din’s chest.
They, unknowingly, held hands until Cobb was completely out, and Din stayed like the older man wished. Waiting ‘til his breathing was evening, ( admiring her beauty, ) before putting the breathing tube in the Marshal’s mouth. An shuts the tank, watching it fill with a bright blue liquid. Consuming Cobb’s body in no time, healing his wounds, but not the scars that will forever linger. Din sets his hand on the cool surface, “sleep well, Cobb.”
