Chapter Text
The syrupy late-afternoon sunlight bathes everything in a soft and supple glow. A lazy breeze ripples the water of the shrimp pools and drifts through the long grass, making it dance like soft ocean waves. Din lets his eyes drift closed, basking in the warmth and calm that surrounds him. From his place on the porch he can hear the lull of conversation further down the road, the laughter of children playing at the edge of one of the pools. It’s far and away from anything he would have expected for himself, but it’s getting easier to bear.
A shy touch to his arm has him cracking an eye open, and he smiles down at Grogu, who is regarding him with wide dark eyes, holding up a reed that has flowered. He is covered in spots of mud, and there is half the leaf-litter in the forest stuck in his hair, but Din can’t help but soften around his son. So much time outside had turned his skin an even darker shade of brown and brought out highlights in his hair. Maybe Din has those too — but he tends to avoid mirrors.
“It’s beautiful. Is it for me?” Din straightens himself up from his half-asleep slump at his son’s nod and takes Grogu’s offered prize, making a show of sniffing the bloom. Despite the way that it makes his eyes water, he coos that it is surely the most beautiful gift he has ever recieved. Grogu wriggles into his lap, and Din gives him a squeeze, smoothing his unruly curls and picking a few sticks and leaves from his hair before pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
“Where’s Cabuor?” Din lifts his head to scan the sprawling fields around them, surprised not to see the hulking shape of Grogu’s constant companion. In lieu of an answer, Grogu puts his hand to his mouth and whistles. Din winces at the shrill sound, and moments later a mud-brown streak shoots out of the trees toward them. The creature that Din fondly refers to as a dog leaves a trail of forest debris in its wake as it charges through the long grass toward them.
Cabuor might not be a dog in the traditional sense, but he has all the things that a dog should have — four legs, a stubby tail and tiny triangular ears perched high on his head. The rest is somewhat up to interpretation. Most dogs don’t have a line of long porcupine-like spikes down their back, and… maybe have a little more fur than just a ruff around their neck. Cabuor skids to a stop in front of them, forked tongue lolling from his mouth as he shoves his big head into Grogu’s belly to beg for scratches that Grogu gleefully provides.
After his requisite pets the dog nudges Din, who grumbles but scoots forward enough to let Cabuor settle behind him, and it is much more comfortable to lean into the dog’s side than to lounge against the solid wood of the house. Cabuor is nearly large enough to wrap around them — standing taller than Din when he hops on his back legs. As long as the dog is with him, Din doesn’t worry nearly as much about his son, and he’s endlessly grateful.
Cocooned against Cabuor’s warmth and with Grogu settled into his lap, Din starts to doze again. It’s not often even now that he has a whole afternoon with nothing to do. Despite his unofficial retired status, he’s never been one to sit idly and is always filling his time with odds and ends just to keep himself busy. For once, however, the list of chores isn’t nagging at him, and he lets himself relax.
Grogu shrieks in excitement just as Din is about to drift off again. This time he jerks awake, turning to see none other than Cara Dune walking up the short path to his porch. Grogu nearly elbows Din in the stomach in his rush to greet her, practically hopping up and down once he reaches her, hands quick with half-intelligible signs. Excitement makes him hard to understand. Cabuor shoves Din half-off the porch in his enthusiasm to greet their visitor as well; his snarling rumble that passes as a pleased noise makes Cara reel back. Even after all this time, she is more than a bit wary of the beast.
Din himself is wary of why she’s come. He pulls himself up and brushes his hands over his pants to banish the stray leaves that Grogu had deposited on him.
“You’ve gotten so big!” Cara leans down to gather Grogu into her arms, swinging him around until he shrieks again. She grins as she carries him up the steps back toward Din. “He’ll be taller than you if you’re not careful.”
Din winces but turns it into a shrug. “What brings you all the way out here?” It’s not that Cara doesn’t stop by from time to time just to visit, but every visit inevitably turns into her asking when he’s going to come back. She had been the one to suggest that he stay here in the first place when he had stumbled back to the Jaeger base broken and hollow-eyed, clutching a tiny Grogu to his chest like it was the last thing he would ever do.
“I wish I could say I was just here to drink your spotchka.” Cara sets Grogu back down and tentatively reaches out to ruffle Cabuor’s ears.
“Better come inside then.” Din sighs, turning to push the door open. “Grogu? Why don’t you take Cabuor down to the river and see if you can get him a little cleaner. I’m not letting him in the house like that.”
Grogu whines but turns to skip down the path without any further protest.
Cara watches him go before turning back to Din, her expression serious. “I’m here to bring you back in.”
Crossing his arms over his chest Din flares at her, “Cara—”
“You don’t get it. It’s not a request or a suggestion this time. The Third Wave is starting and we’re down too many pilots. It’s bad, Din.”
There is desperation in her voice, real fear in her eyes, and Din knows he can’t ignore it. He’s not ready. The third wave already? There should have been more time.
“I thought the Jedi would have figured this out by now.”
“Yeah, well, they haven’t. So we need you.”
Sagging against the bannister, Din swallows back the onslaught of memories. He hasn’t… he has done everything in his power to push back those memories from years ago, but they’re not gone. He can still smell the acrid burning oil smell of it sometimes, even out here.
“I’m not capable anymore. No way I could drift — I’d be a detriment in the field.”
Cara grabs his shoulder, and Din glances up at her, knowing that there’s no argument. He’ll come, as much as it hurts, as much as he knows he isn’t ready to face the inside of a Jaeger again.
“Where are we stationed?” Din asks, and he expects Cara to smile but not for it to look so sad.
“Meosus. They’ve got a training base set up there for new pilots. You can bring Grogu.”
“Wherever I go, he goes.” Din sighs, turning to step into the semi-darkness of the house. “Since you’re here, you might as well stay for dinner. Then you can help me pack.”
It’s not that Din doesn’t like Cara. He adores her. She’s brusque and like him in a lot of ways, and he’s glad that she was the one to come and bring him back in. He just wishes that it wasn’t necessary. At dinner he’s quiet, not that he has ever been one to fill silences. It’s easy to let Cara focus on Grogu instead; around her, he practically forgets to be shy and babbles with his hands, pointing excitedly. Din can’t remember if he was a shy child, but he imagines that he was — Grogu is open and expressive with him but is downright distrustful of strangers, and while he’s become adept at sign, he still doesn’t speak. Din can empathize. It’s not as if he’s a big talker himself.
Slipping out once Cara offers to clean up, Din allows his shoulders to slump. The short walk between the house and the barn feels like a gallows stroll. His hands shake when he opens the door. There are the usual things here, farm tools and equipment to patch up the roof when it leaks, but Din bypasses all of that to the large chest in the far back. He punshes in the code and the chest unseals with a loud hiss; Din heaves it open. His past stares back at him.
Getting the armor on without help is one of the first things he had learned — you couldn’t always rely on someone being there to help you get it on or off. But his shoulders burn when he twists to tighten the last of the buckles. It doesn’t fit him quite as well as it did before — - it’s tighter across the shoulders and thighs, but it’s good enough. Lastly, he takes the helmet from the bottom of the trunk, stuffing his blaster into the holster at his hip and regarding the helmet cradled in his hands.
If you take it off, put it down, you can never put it on again. He wishes that were true.
The seal squeaks closed and the HUD comes online in an instant. He had been able to fix his own armor, but the Crest had been beyond his skills to repair. The slightly claustrophobic feeling of being sealed in his helmet doesn’t hit him the way he expects. While he’s gotten used to going without it these last few years, the majority of his life had been spent surrounded by the soft glow of that HUD in the corner of his vision. Gathering the rest of his gear, Din strides back through the darkness toward the warm glow of the house, knowing that even after its time spent in storage his armor shines like a beacon in the moonlight.
Cabuor growls at him when he opens the door, and Din holds his hands up as the dog stalks toward him on stiff legs, his low rumble making the dishes rattle on the shelf.
“Woah, hey, it’s me.” Din reaches for his helmet and tugs it off, tucking it under his arm. Cabuor immediately flops onto his belly, scuttling forward in apology.
“Yeah yeah, I forgive you. Just don’t try to rip me up.” Din fends him off with one arm, not surprised to see both Cara and Grogu staring at him.
“Wasting no time, then. You don’t want to sleep before we go?” Cara asks, tucking the towel she had been using to dry dishes onto the ring above the sink.
Grogu scrambles toward him, and Din gathers him up in his arms, shushing him softly when he makes a small and confused noise.
“Don’t worry, there’s no trouble. We’re just going on a trip for a while.” He shifts Grogu in his arms to meet his gaze. “You’re safe, I won’t leave you.” Glancing back up at Cara, Din continues, “I wouldn’t sleep anyway. Let’s just go.”
Not knowing if or when he’ll get back, Din does what he can to set up the place for a long absence, gathering anything that could spoil or rot and carefully organizing it into a satchel. It will get spread amongst the rest of the village; it won’t go to waste. Grogu sticks close to him, clearly feeling his anxiety and unsure about what is going on. Din doesn’t have the words to reassure him.
Knocking on Omera’s door feels final, and her friendly smile drops when she sees him in his armor.
“You’re leaving.”
Din nods, holding out the sack and nods again when she takes it.
“Will you be back?”
“Don’t know.”
Her expression goes tight, but she doesn’t say any more, glancing at Cara where she stands on the road. “May you travel safely. Your place will be ready for when you come back.”
“Thank you.” Din struggles to keep his voice level, swallowing down any more words before turning back to follow Cara towards the edge of the village.
Cara slows enough to walk beside him, and he doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s thinking.
“I thought next time I came I’d find you shacked up with her. You were really sweet on her.”
Din shrugs, doesn’t look at her. “We made a go of it. I wasn’t… good company.” He doesn’t need to outline his failings, the way he had been caught up in his own grief and rage, emotionally and physically unavailable despite Omera’s kindness and patience toward him. It had been better to let it fizzle out, stay as fondness, as friendship.
Cara doesn’t press for more, but Din can already feel his jaw beginning to ache from clenching his teeth.
When they reach Cara’s jumper ship, Din pauses, turning to take one last look through the trees at the place that had become his home. He hopes for Grogu’s sake that they would make it back here.
“Do you—” Cara starts the sentence, but Din cuts her off.
“No. Let’s go.” Din stuffs his helmet back on, leading the way up the plank into the ship.
Exhaustion prickles at the corners of Din’s eyes, but the nervous energy keeps him from drifting to sleep as Cara pilots the tiny jumper into the atmosphere. Cabuor and Grogu seem to have no such qualms, curling up together as soon as the ship stops shaking.
“So we’re stopping on Tatooine first?” Din finally breaks the silence between them, peering through the viewscreen as Sorgan shrinks beneath them.
“Yep. Gotta pick up your ride. You’ll have to meet me on Meosus once to get it.”
“Hopefully it’s still there. I trust Peli, but I wouldn’t blame her if she’s sold it.” Din snorts out a laugh at Cara’s incredulous look. “I’m kidding.”
Cara’s jumper is designed to hop between moons — it’s not a long-range or transport ship — and it shakes ominously every time they get into the gravity of another planet. Din trusts her ability to pilot, but it doesn’t keep him from going tense every time the tiny ship trembles. Anything larger than a jumper was in danger or being swallowed up or destroyed in the space between planets. There were larger ships — Din had heard of ships as big as planets that traveled at light speed — but they had been cut off from all of that long ago.
“How do you trust this thing?” Din bites out as the ship shudders again. At least he can see Tatooine looming larger in the distance, its orbit on the close end, thank the Maker. Din has no desire to stay in this jumper any longer than he has to. In the distance, past the soft tan glow of the planet, Din can see the rend in space that rings their system in a pulsing and constantly shifting string. The Breach.
“Shouldn’t you be a bit more worried about the potential of being eaten by a Kaiju than the integrity of my ship? Besides, it’s gotten me around plenty of times. We’re not going to die,” Cara snipes back at him.
She seems unphased as she sets the telemetry for their landing. The vibration of the ship is enough to make Din feel like he’s going to rattle right out of his skin. Maybe he should be more concerned about the Kaiju, but if they run into that problem then there’s really nothing that they can do besides hope to die in space before it eats them.
Grogu can sleep through anything, which Din has always been extremely envious of, but he finally stirs once they dip into their final descent, perching on Din’s lap to peer through the viewscreen.
“Yeah, it’s been a long time.” Din sighs. “Let’s get you wrapped up a bit so you don’t burn.”