tritanopia | The Mandalorian

thirty-two

Mando had known the very second the lights went out that something terrible was going to happen.

He never really had understood that overused saying in books; the one about feeling a shiver run down your spine. Not truly. Not the way he was supposed to understand it.

Of course, Mando had been afraid before. Despite the fact that he was a man with an inflated ego, he was not naive enough to pretend he had never felt fear. For in the end in a way, perhaps every way, he was simple a little boy hiding behind a suit of armour. And in that moment, he had truly never felt littler.

It was strange...because back when he had initially seen Fae getting dragged away, all the while being completely unable to do a thing about it, that was the most fear he thought he could ever comprehend. Despite the fact that Mando knew full that Fae could defend herself rather impressively for her age and size, it was an unconscious thing that he continued to see her as a defenceless girl who was far too sweet for him to allow the universe to scorn even further. So as soon as she was no longer in his line of sight, his mind began plaguing him with horrific worst case scenarios; scenarios that made it hard for him to think about anything else.

But now...not only was Fae without him, but Mando knew that she also could barely see a thing.

A situation had never once felt more out of his hands while Mando stood under the flashing red lights with his mind racing; pleading with himself not to let the fear in his spine spread into and pollute his blood stream.

For all he knew, the rest of them had already found their way back to the crest.

For all he knew, the girl was already dead.

And it was those exact thoughts which caused Mando to run as if his own life depended on it. Not caring less in the slightest over the matter of who could possibly hear him. Not caring less about the fact that he had actually only known Fae for a matter of several months and, well, if the old version of himself could see him now...'ashamed' would likely be the fitting word, to say the least.

Mando didn't know how much time had passed, or how many identical corridors he sprinted down, all the while finding himself unable to tempt himself away from continuing his harrowing intrusive thoughts.

What if he didn't get there in time?

What would he do then — where would he take her?

When would he next be able to say her name and have it mean only her name and not what she left behind?

He had never been much of a worrier. Had always simply taken things as they happened, content with the fact that some things cannot be changed. Some thing should not be changed, in order to follow the infinite script of the universe.

But universe be damned, the girl was not going to die.

In retrospect, perhaps Mando could be convinced that, no matter how far away he had been at the time, the screams of Fae's agony would have been heard by him no matter what. Had he been in the depths of space, where sound cannot even travel merely an inch, Mando thought that he would still have heard it all nonetheless.

Mando's brain did not even register the fact that his body had shifted directions, his muscles far past the point of running on adrenaline -- instead seemingly functioning on dread and almost animalistic instinct. And that was the reason, well, what he would later tell himself was the reason, that he was suddenly unconsciously wrapping his hands around the arms of an unknown figure and slamming them brutally against the nearest wall.