Lullaby | The Mandalorian

Chapter Ten: Poll: Does Mando Have Couch Guy Vibes?

Note: What happened to the original plot of the movie?!

Warning: This chapter is very mature!

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She was basically limping up the mountain.

Annelise could hear Mando following close behind, the anger in his footsteps, but hers felt angrier, with her hands gripped into fists at her sides. He was carrying the baby this time, she didn't know if she could climb and walk at the same time, eventually pressing a hand into her sore side as she moved. She glanced back every once and a while, mostly making sure she was going the right way – but neither of them spoke. Annelise did not think she could find words. Not past the horror and the upset, and the denial Mando kept giving that the man had more than likely been lying. Maybe he was. Maybe Mando would have noticed because he had been watching the man for days, but she did not care. She needed to see for herself.

Mando had been correct – the man's home was in fact not in the village. It was further up the mountain, even further than she had walked and where she had fallen and the path only got steeper to the point that at one point she paused. The air was thinner, and she felt a hand press firmly into her back and he spoke lowly behind the modulator –

"If you fall out, I'm dragging you back."

"I'm not going to," She huffed, not looking at him, but pushing off – and the hand disappeared from her spine. Her feet slipped in the rocks, and she knew he was glaring under the helmet, she could just feel it pushing into her skin like an angry stare with needles and plyers. She hadn't let him put more bacta on her before leaving. Her skin felt like it was crawling now anyway. Truthfully, she had taken all of this upon herself. Movement and moment and going and going and going – she was scared and...

Mando didn't seem concerned – but then again his voice sounded...nervous in a way.

Like he realized somewhere inside he had fucked up.

She knew he had tried to be kind to her. Had started out speaking to her slowly, gently like an injured animal. Maybe she was one. But the practically injured sprint up the mountain was getting on his nerves. She wondered when she had figured him out well enough to know when and why. When the blood was boiling and the source of the anger.

The blood was not poetic. And it wasn't beautiful. It was just a color.

Her brain was buzzing at the base of her skull, and it felt like every bone in her body was broken. She continued upward though, staggering and suddenly her foot slipped on a stone and a large hand reached forward – grabbing her by the back of her shirt. She felt him nearer to her, helping her to gain her footing again and she paused, strands of hair falling into her face when the hand slipped to her hip and gripped tightly, her eyes casting to the ground...And she bit down on her lip to keep from losing her freaking mind. She heard the baby make a sound – as if he was upset by her upset and she looked back...Realizing her vision had blurred with unshed tears.

Maybe he noticed she was crying, because something...soft came from behind the modulator.

"Hey..."

Her eyes darted up towards his helmet, from the baby's face.

"He was lying."

But what if he wasn't? What if they had just done something terrible?

Without warning a hand pressed to her forehead, his glove worn but soft and she shut her eyes...His whole palm enveloping her forehead and she actually leaned into it. It was as if he could only comfort her that way – could not touch her more than that simplistic gesture, like checking a child's temperature, but heavier. Her skin was suddenly too tight – but the world was too open. Open spaces. She was too –