Old Wounds

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"This may hurt a bit." Din applied a bacta patch to my injury, his gloved hands holding my arm stable. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but a sharp hiss escaped my lips as I winced in pain. "I'm almost done," he said, wrapping it up with a bandage and a few pieces of medical tape. "You'll have one hell of a scar, but I do believe you will survive."

I looked at my arm, the pain subsiding slightly, and was impressed with his work. "Where did you learn to get so good at this?"

"Working as a bounty hunter, you have to learn to become you're own medic," he quipped, putting the kit away. "There was this one time, I was pinned down by an IG unit on Serenno. I got shot, bad, as I was running away back to the ship, and the only supplies I had on hand was a field cauterizer. I did manage to stop the bleeding, but there was nothing to stop the infection. I almost died. But, fate had decided that it was not my time."

"That sounds intense." I lifted my eyebrow at him. "Is that why you don't like droids, because one of them almost killed you?"

"You're still on that?" he sighed.

"It seems like a valid reason. I wouldn't have been too happy about it, either. But, you can't judge all droids the same. They aren't inherently good or bad. That depends on the people who design them."

"No, that's not the reason," he said. "But, it certainly didn't help their case."

"I've met some really great droids before. Once, an astromech brought me flowers after I helped fix his motivator. I'm pretty sure he stole them, but it was still a nice gesture." I smiled at the memory as an aura of silence filled the air.  

Din sat down next to me. "You really want to know?" he asked, exhaling sadly. "During the Clone Wars, the Separatists invaded my homeworld. Thousands of battle droids littered the streets, killing anyone that stood in their path. My parents hid me and tried to keep me safe, but they were gunned down, too. They would have killed me if the Mandalorians hadn't shown up. That's why I'm so loyal to them. They saved my life and raised me as one of their own... like I was family."

I reached for his hand, expecting him to pull away from my grasp, but he didn't. "That's awful, Din. You should never have had to go through that. But, please remember that you're not alone anymore. And, I'm always here if you need to talk." Our hands still intertwined, I reluctantly rested my head on his shoulder. And , after a few moments, I felt the chill and weight of beskar do the same.

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