Chapter Text
Clang! Crash! Whump! Whump!
Din woke to the sound of blunt metal striking hard-packed earth, the wall above his head vibrating. He was up like a shot, scattering bits of dust and clay out of his hair and onto the pillows. There was no sunlight filtering in through the curtains of the little bedroom, and he didn’t need to turn on the chrono to tell him it was the middle of the kriffing night. Outside, the wind howled, announcing that the sandstorm that they’d been preparing for all day had finally arrived.
As he got up, he reached for Cobb’s side of the bed. For a moment, he allowed himself the sick, impossible hope that he’d feel Cobb there asleep beside him—or rather, waking up in the same startled state. “What the hell is that racket?”
Whump! Whump! Whump!
Cobb wasn’t there, though. Din knew where he was, and his stomach lurched as he headed for the door. He hit the controls, and the door wheezed and opened sluggishly on its tracks. It took Din a few seconds to realize that the door was running on its emergency batteries. Beyond the door, the living area was pitched black, and his stomach knotted.
Dank ferrik! The storm had knocked out the power. Which meant if Cobb had been out there when the house had been pitched into darkness—
Whump! Whump! Whump!
“Can anybody hear us?” Cobb’s panicked voice echoed through their subterranean home. “We got folk hurt down here!”
Din grabbed his helmet off the armor stand by the door, and slid it over his head. He flicked on the lamp, using the light to guide him on his search for his riduur.
“Cobb! Cobb Vanth!” Din called out, calmly, but loudly. “We hear you! We’ve almost got you out! Stay calm.”
“Hard to stay calm when we’re breathin’ in powdered silicax!” Cobb replied. “Don’t know how much more air we’ve got down here.”
His voice was coming from the kitchen. He must’ve been getting a drink of water or a late-night snack—seeing as he could never sleep more than 4 hours at a time, even before the accident—when the power went out. Din hurried through the open arch.
It took a few moments for the light to find Cobb, huddled on the floor against the kitchen wall. He had a metal meat tenderizing hammer in his hand, the rest of the utensils scattered across the floor. The jar it came from was shattered, and the wall next to Cobb’s head was marked with deep holes.
“Gar cuy morut'yc, riduur!” Din said softly, reaching a hand to Cobb. It was a test as much as reassurance, an anchor. You are safe, my spouse.
“Who’s there? I can’t understand what you’re saying!” Cobb’s voice rose in pitch. “Ah'chu apenkee?”
Cobb was speaking Huttese. It was a terrible sign, considering he was asking Din who he was. Din’s heart tightened, but he pushed his feelings aside, focusing instead on helping his husband through his confusion.
“My name is Din Djarin. I’m here with the rescue team.” He’d learned the hard way that the easiest way to get Cobb to comply during these episodes was to play along. He held out his hand to Cobb, crouching to his level. “You and your folk are safe.”
Cobb hesitated, then reached out slowly with a raw-knuckled hand. Din’s breath hitched. Cobb had beat his knuckles bloody again.
“Just get the wounded out,” Cobb said, letting Din pull him to his feet. “Most of us aren’t hurt bad. We can still meet quota today, if you’ll let us work past the dinner bell.”
Din’s belly churned sourly. He’d learned more about Cobb’s life as a slave in these past few weeks than in all the years they’d been together. Every time he heard Cobb talk like this, he wanted to find every single slaver in the galaxy and torture them to death.
“We’ll get you back in as soon as you’re cleared by the medic,” Din lied, trying to keep his voice from quaking with fury. Haar'chak! He had to swallow down the bile rising in the back of his throat. He’d tried before, in previous episodes, to convince Cobb to rest, that he didn’t have to go back down into the mine, but Cobb would always argue, even beg sometimes. Din’s heart could barely take it, and he knew Cobb’s couldn’t, not when he was fragile like this. It had taken Cobb’s doctor to think of this line, and it worked to soothe Cobb into compliance until Din could get him his medication and back in bed.
Didn’t mean it didn’t kill Din a little each time he had to say it.
He gently took the mallet from Cobb’s hand, and left it on the counter as he led Cobb out of the kitchen. Din would deal with the mess in the daylight.
“Where are we?” Cobb asked, looking around their living room. The helmet-light swept over the worn couch, the carved rocking chair Din had bartered for in a market on Nevarro, the rug made by the Mos Pelgo’s weaver as a wedding present to them both. The artifacts of the life they’d built, together.
“The doctor’s house,” Din said, heart clenching. “He’s helping the others. He’ll be here soon.”
A small mew caught both their attention. Din’s light swept towards the sound as he turned, and he caught the gleam of a pair of beady eyes from under the couch.
“Cop’lika,” Din sighed. “It’s OK, girl.”
“Mrawr!” The Loth-cat gave a disquiet growl, and pulled her head deeper into the shadows. Din swore that their pet could sense when Cobb was having an episode, and it unnerved her as much as it did Din. Wasn’t comforting at all. He was glad that at least Grogu was spared this all, safe at Jedi school for another few weeks before his seasonal visit. Maybe, by some miracle, these episodes would be over by then.
He sat Cobb down on the couch, then realized his dilemma. If he went to get the meds and bandages from the bathroom with the helmet on, then Cobb would be left alone in the dark, and Din might have to start all over. He’d have to get the supplies in the dark by feel, then.
Din carefully removed his helmet, and placed it on the table in front of Cobb. With the cold light pointed right at him, Cobb looked pale, sickly, the fresh scar from the accident cutting across his forehead like a fault line. Of all the things Cobb had fought through and survived, it was that crack that had broken Cobb’s brain.
No. Not broken. Just…confused. Time, rest, medicine, care. Improvement in increments. That’s what his doctor said.
“Wait here,” Din said, fighting the urge to stroke Cobb’s face, touch his shoulder, hug him. When he was like this, any physical sign of affection made him recoil. “I’ll check in with the doctor to get your medicine.”
“Thank you, Din,” Cobb said, looking up at him with a grateful, yet cautious smile. The smile you give to a kind stranger, or an employer you don’t want to seem ungrateful to.
“You’re welcome, Cobb.”
Din hurried to the bathroom, doing his best to navigate the obstacles in the dim light. The bathroom was just a pitched-black as the rest of the house, and Din promised that as soon as he got Cobb settled back in bed, he’d get out the emergency lanterns and set them up around the house. It took him a bit to find Cobb’s medicines and the first aid kit, and he hurried back to Cobb.
“Here we are,” Din said, sitting down on the couch next to Cobb. He made sure to sit a respectable distance away, but close enough that Cobb could see his face. Din liked to think that even the act of seeing him could jog Cobb’s memory when he was like this, even if so far, it hadn’t seemed to help.
Cobb looked over at him, blinking slowly. He smiled, a wide, tender smile, and Din’s heart leaped. Could it…was Cobb…did he recognize him?
“Wow. The maker sure did make you handsome, didn’t he, Din?”
Din felt heat creep over his face, his hope growing. “Cobb, you really gave me a fright—”
Cobb shook his head, his pale cheeks reddening. “Oh, dang, I’m real sorry! That was rude of me. I must’ve gotten knocked in the head worse than I thought.”
He turned his head away, rubbing the back of his neck, and Din’s heart sank. So. He didn’t remember.
“Really, I apologize,” Cobb continued, “if I made you uncomfortable. I should remember my place.” There was a note of desperation in Cobb’s tone, the need to know not just that Din was OK, but that Cobb wasn’t about to be punished for being too forward.
“No, not uncomfortable at all. I know you’ve had a rough day.” Din soothed. “In fact, I’m already married, so no harm done.” He turned his attention to opening the bottle of liquid and measuring it into the tiny cup that served as the lid.
“Married, huh?” Cobb said. “They’re a lucky being.”
“I’m the lucky one,” Din said quietly as he eyed the liquid. “They’re the best person I’ve ever met.” He handed the cup to Cobb. “Here, drink it all.”
Cobb took the cup and downed it like a shot. Din watched him carefully, making sure he swallowed every drop.
“Ugh, that tastes worse than bantha piss!”
“And how do you know what bantha piss tastes like?” Din asked, feebly trying to make a joke.
“You don’t wanna know.” Cobb shuddered. He wrapped his arms around his narrow shoulders, and Din saw the red of Cobb’s knuckles again.
“Here, let’s get you patched up before you take a rest.” He dug around in the med kit for bandages and ointment, then held his hand out to Cobb.
Cobb eyed him warily as he held out his busted-up hand. “Rest? Aren’t I going back on the line?”
“After a short nap. Doc said you could use his bed for a bit.”
“What about the dust?” Cobb looked down at his bed clothes—a thin tunic and loose pants—his brow wrinkling when he realized they were clean. “Huh. Look at that.”
“See? It’s fine.” Satisfied that he’d done a good job patching up Cobb, Din stood, and picked up the helmet as a guiding light. “The sooner you rest, the sooner you can get back to work. That’s what you want, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Cobb said, standing up as well.
Din’s throat closed, his eyes stinging.
“Don’t call me ‘sir,’” he said finally. “I’m a worker here, just like you. Call me Din.”
“All right, Din.” Cobb nodded, and obediently followed Din back to their room.
He laid down on Din’s side of the bed, and Din didn’t correct him. He just put the helmet down on the bedside table as a lamp and tucked the blankets up around Cobb. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to stroke his head or brush a kiss to his cheek.
“Hey, um, partner?” Cobb asked in a small voice. “Would you mind sitting with me for a bit? If you don’t have other work to do, that is.”
“Of course. My assignment was to take care of you, Cobb. I’m happy to stay.” He pulled over the chair from the corner, not even bothering to remove the half-clean clothes hanging over the back.
“Thanks. ‘preciate it.” Cobb’s words were already slurring as the sedating effects of the medicine came on. “I, um…I got caught in a cave-in once before, when I was a youngin’. I didn’t get out so fast that time. I was down there for days.” He shuddered again.
Din knew. Cobb had told him early on in their courtship, one of those pre-dawn confessions made when only the stars were awake.
“I guess you can say I’m ‘fraid of the dark. Which is damn childish, I know, but if I can’t see some light—stars, lamp, even the blink of a control panel—it sends me into a panic.”
“That’s not childish, Cobb, no more than me hating droids for what they’ve taken from me.”
The cave-in last month had brought it all flooding back for Cobb—trapped again in the dark with no idea when rescue was coming. He shouldn’t have even been down there, but the town’s miners had needed help with extracting a broken drill. Cobb had been down there tinkering with the motor when the earth shifted, collapsing the tunnel with everyone still inside.
It was a kriffing miracle that no one had died. There had been some broken bones and lots of bruises and lacerations. Cobb’s head injury was the worst that anyone sustained.
“He just threw himself over me when the rocks came down,” one of the miners told Din later, once they’d all been freed. “Didn’t even hesitate.”
Of course he didn’t, Din had wanted to reply. He’s Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of Mos Pelgo. Always thinking of his people first, his personal safety second.
Cobb and the miners had been down there for almost three days. It would’ve been longer if their Tuskens friends hadn’t stopped by to trade goods and water their Banthas, and offered to help with the rescue efforts.
Well…not exactly “offer.”
“My mate is trapped in there!” Din had signed frantically to the leader of the party. “ If you help us dig them out, then we will give you double of what you are asking for in trade.”
“To go near that cursed place where they dig up the heart of the planet for their machines?” The Tusken had growled. “I am sorry about your mate, friend, but to risk my people, when we are already in need of supplies and resources...”
“Fine. Three times the asking price.”
“Six.”
They had settled at four times the offered barter, and really, a few extra gallons of water, power packs, and assorted supplies had been a small price to pay to have everyone out of those mines and back in their loved one’s arms.
Cobb had had to be half-carried out, though, slung between two of the miner’s shoulders. He’d been delirious, his face smeared with dried blood and caked dirt. Din had run to him, ready to finish carrying him out, when Cobb’s head had rolled forward to eye the Tuskens with suspicion and disgust.
“Tuskens? What are those monsters doing here?” Cobb had gasped. “Come to pick the clothes off our dead bodies? Not today!”
That had been the first shock. The second came when he’d physically recoiled from Din’s touch, eyes wide with fear.
“Bounty hunter!” He’d growled. “You’re gonna have to take me in dead, ‘cause I’m not tellin’ you nothing!”
Maker, that had hurt.
After that, Cobb had been watched closely by the doctor they’d brought in from Mos Eisley. He’d drift in and out of memories—sometimes he was back in the slave camps, sometimes he was a freedom fighter, sometimes he was Din’s husband from two weeks ago who’d forgotten to get blue milk at the store. It had taken lots of rest, bacta, and other medicines to get him mostly back to sorts.
Still, though, things would trigger him—the clang of a rusty engine, the smell of cooking spices, or when he found himself alone in the dark. Din had been forced to create a bevy of characters to help Cobb navigate his reality until Din could get him his medicine and back in bed. The mining cave-in was actually one of the easier ones—he’d pulled a blaster on Din once when he’d come out of the fresher and Cobb had forgotten he lived with someone. After that, Din had started locking all the weapons in a safe in their closet.
“I’ll be fine, though,” Cobb said, pulling Din’s thoughts back to the present moment. “Back on my feet after a short rest.”
“I’m sure you will,” Din said with a forced smile. “You seem like a tough son-of-a-gundark.”
“Damn straight I am.” Cobb yawned, snuggling down deeper into the blankets. “Smells good in here. Like…like home.”
Din’s heart squeezed. It is your home, Cobb. Yours and mine.
“Tell me about this spouse of yours,” Cobb said, voice slurring sleepily. “If you don’t mind.”
Din took a shaky breath. “Well. They’re smart. Sharp as vibroblade and just as quick. Good sharp-shooter, too.”
“No!” Cobb waved a hand sloppily. “I want the good stuff! Tell me how pretty they are, or how y’all met. I’m a sucker for those soft details.”
Oh Cobb. Don’t do this to me.
“He, uh,” Din scrunched his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s gorgeous. Got a smile brighter than both suns put together.” He swallowed hard. “First time I met him, we almost got into a duel. In front of my kid, too.”
“Oh, that’s kinda romantic.” Cobb chuckled, his eyelids drifting closed. “You have kids, you say?”
“One. Grogu, our foundling. He came into my care before we met. It wasn’t long before he adopted Grogu, too.” Din thought. “Though really, I think Grogu adopted Co—” he stopped short, mind racing. “Colin. His name is Colin.”
“Nice name. Colin’s a lucky guy.” Cobb sighed. “Married people get all my respect. Relationships, family, all that stuff is hard, ‘specially for folk like us. ‘s why I don’t do it. I’m not the marrying type. Too cranky, too broke-down.” He paused, then added quietly. “Too risky, too much to lose.”
Cobb’s casual banter chipped at Din’s heart with the force of that meat-mallet hitting the wall: whump, whump, whump. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up without bursting into tears or screaming into Cobb’s face.
It’s you, Cobb! You’re my husband! I love you because of all the reasons you say you’re not worth marrying. You took this risk with me because you told me it hurt more to live without me—without us. I love you, Cobb Vanth! Please, remember me!
“Hey,” Cobb’s soft voice pulled Din’s head up. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer or nothing. He sure sounds like a special guy.”
“Most special guy in the galaxy,” Din whispered. “I’d do anything for him.”
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky like that someday, too.” Cobb’s voice started fading, words thickening. “Guy with brown eyes, brown hair. Nose as proud as a Corosian phoenix’s beak.” He chuckled drunkenly. “Flies like one, too. He’s a Mandalorian. Shiny beskar armor. Beskar…”
Cobb’s voice faded into deep breathing. Din didn’t realize that he’d been holding his breath until he exhaled in a sharp gasp. He just sat for a few minutes, watching Cobb sleep, before being sure he was out. Then, with a shaky hand, he stroked Cobb’s head.
Cobb won’t remember any of this in the morning. He’ll wake up groggy from the medicine, and nursing his ever-present headache. By then, Din will have cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and done his best to repair the wall. He’ll have caf and breakfast ready, and pretend that nothing had happened…
…until the next time something set off Cobb.
“Nuhoyir ni riduur,” he whispered. “Jahaalir.” Sleep and heal, my husband.
Chapter Text
Days blended into weeks, into months. Din made sure Cobb took his medicine, kept in contact with the doctor, and went to every check-up at the clinic in Mos Espa. In increments, Cobb improved. The memory-loss episodes came less frequently, and diminished in severity.
“I’m not your boss, I’m your…” Din prompted gently. That afternoon the smell of leaking dilarium oil hitting a hot engine had made Cobb believe he was working back on the drills.
Cobb squinted at Din. “You’re my… riduur.”
“Good! And where are you?”
Cobb looked around, taking in the town at its liveliest at twilight. “Mos Pelgo. Home.”
“Safe,” Din said softly.
“Safe,” Cobb repeated, stepping close enough to nudge his forehead against Din’s helmet. “With you.”
They added things around the house to help Cobb keep his focus, tokens to remind him who he was.
“Who’s this?” Din asked, holding up a holo-puck. In the blue wedge of light, Cobb was introducing Grogu to their newest family member, their masiff pup Deputy.
“Our kiddo,” Cobb said with a wide grin.
And where is he?”
“Driving his poor Jedi teacher crazy until the harvest.”
Din made sure there were tiny, power-cel operated lamps in every corner of the house. They’d turn on automatically in the dark, so if there was another power outage, Cobb would still have light to guide him.
Cobb’s favorite memory-jogging tool, though, was a soft blanket that Din had commissioned the town weaver to make just for Cobb. It was simple—deep red and cloudy grey bands with the occasional thin green stripe—but it did the trick.
“It’s us!” Cobb said softly as Din wrapped it around him the first time. He was fully cognizant, his hazel eyes meeting Din’s with loving clarity. “You and me and Grogu!”
“There’s even a couple of stripes for Cop’lika and Deputy.” Din pointed out the cream, tan, and moss-green stripes near the ends of the blanket. “If you ever start to feel lost in the dark, all you have to do is feel this and know your family is with you, no matter what.”
Cobb lifted the blanket, and pulled Din in under it with him. “We better get working on making it smell like us, then.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Cop’lika already got a head start on that,” Din said, picking a white hair off the blanket. “She claimed it as hers the minute she saw it.”
As if on cue, Cop’lika strode over to them from the kitchen and leapt up onto the couch. She mewed at Cobb, giving him a pointedly annoyed look before climbing into his lap and settling herself on the blanket.
“Oh, how generous of you to share, Madam Cop’lika,” Cobb chuckled. He stroked the loth-cat’s head and back. She purred, tail twitching as her eyes narrowed.
Cobb looked about as content as their loth-cat, and Din snuggled in closer. “I’m proud of you, Cobb.”
“For what? Remembering my own dang life for more than a few hours?”
“For fighting so hard to hold onto it,” Din said, tracing a Grogu-green line in the blanket. “It would have been easy to give up. To just lose yourself in the past. Instead you’ve worked every step of the way.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Cobb’s brow furrowed, but he gave his husband a crooked grin. “I spent my whole life believing that I wouldn’t ever find anyone who was willing to fight so hard to hold onto me. Now that I have, it didn’t seem fair for me to give up now, did it?”
Din swallowed hard, moisture pricking his eyes. “Thank you.”
Cobb’s face went blank, and his eyes widened slowly. “Now, who are you again?”
Din didn’t even hesitate. He smacked Cobb’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “That’s not funny!”
“Ow!” Cobb rubbed his shoulder, then pouted at Din. “Too soon?”
“Nuhurir,” Din muttered. Joker.
“Sorry,” Cobb nuzzled his nose into Din’s cheek, “Not trying to spook you.”
“You’ve given me enough spooks to last a lifetime.” Din pointedly refused to turn his face to give Cobb the requested kiss.
“Hm. You set the bar with that, jumping into a fucking krayt dragon’s mouth. Just when I was startin’ to realize how much I had a crush on you,” Cobb lightly kissed Din’s cheek, “my Mando.”
Din’s stomach fluttered, his face heating. “Now you’re playing dirty.”
“Only way I play,” Cobb said between kisses. He trailed them down Din’s jaw. “Come on. You can’t stay mad at me.”
Din huffed a mock-exasperated breath through his nostrils. “Can’t I?”
“Nayc,” Cobb purred, “ Jorcu gar cyar ni, sal ni cyar gar, ni riduur.”
No, because you love me, as I love you, spouse.
Cobb knew Din’s is weakness—hearing Mando’a in his soft, Tatooine twang. Din gave in, turning into Cobb’s waiting lips to return his kisses.
“See?” Cobb smirked.
“You’re lucky I’d do anything for you,” Din mock-grumbled. “Give you a gift, and you repay me with grief.”
“Oh, that’s not all I’m gonna repay you with.” Cobb reached out to stroke the skin peeking out at the top of Din’s shirt. “I did say I wanted to get our scent on the blanket.”
Din shivered in anticipation, then looked down at the loth-cat. “She’s not going to like moving.”
“Tough.” Cobb pulled the blanket around them tighter, straightening it underneath Cop’lika so that it dumped her off his lap and onto the floor.
“Rawr!” Her ears flattened back, and she bared her teeth at Cobb before trotting off to find a new place to rest.
Only Din saw her departure, though, as Cobb was too busy kissing his neck. A moment later, Din lost sight of her, as Cobb pulled the blanket over him completely, plunging them both into darkness.
For a second, Din panicked, his body tensing. The blanket was thick enough to block out all the light. Was Cobb about to—
“I’m still here, darlin’,” Cobb whispered, kissing Din’s chin. “I’m not lost in the dark, long as I got you.”
Relief washed through Din, warm as the blanket around him, light as hope for their future. This was a good sign. They could get through this. They were getting through this.
“Tome,” Din replied, just as softly.
“That’s right. Together.”
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