the curious happenstance of pedro pascal and din djarin [The Mandalorian]

The What-The-Fuck-ening.

There was fear. Pure fear invading Pedro's senses. This man had his goddamn face.

There was a line between obsessive and needing mental help - this person had crossed it. He reached for the curtain, ready to call for security, but the bastard snatched his forearm and gripped it so tight he thought it might break.

"I need your help." Fuck, he even has my voice.

Pedro did not respond. He didn't want to. He just wanted to go home, and sleep. All day. All week, even.

"I know you won't believe me. But you have to hear me out."

It's not like he had a choice.

"I don't know what's going on," the man continued. "I don't know how I got here. I don't know who you are or who those other people are. All I know is that you have my face."

Something in Pedro's chest constricted. He tried to get away, but the man had him in a very tight grip.

"I was in my ship and there was a bright light. Then I was here, and my kid is missing."

"You're fucking crazy," Pedro hissed.

"Listen to me." The man lowered his voice so low that he had to strain his ears to hear it. "I think I've hopped dimensions. I just need help getting back. I need to go back."

...if it weren't for the voice crack, and the pure desperation emanating from this man, Pedro would have cried for help.

In hindsight, he definitely should have.

But it was too late now. His interest was piqued. Something about the voice - it being his, for starters - and how urgent the tone was.

Pedro didn't respond, but he stopped trying to escape.

"You will stay if I let you go, and you will listen."

Fuck you, is what Pedro wanted to say. You're crazy, he would have cried. But instead, despite himself, against all logic; Pedro said yes.

"Good." Slowly, the grip was released from his arm. Pedro immediately began to rub at the red mark, where he could already see the beginnings of a bruise.

They were in silence, for a few seconds. Pedro opened his mouth to talk, but immediately shut it again.

He had no words.

They'd left him, alongside his soul. Poof, gone. When he left the goddamn apartment that day he would never have expected... this.

"I have to get back soon," he eventually said. "Security will get concerned. They probably think you've killed me."

"You're an actor," said the man, completely disregarding what Pedro'd just said.

Pedro nodded. "And you have my face."

"No," he growled. "This is my face. We look the same. We are not the same."

Suddenly the doppleganger's entire posture changed. It became hostile. There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down his spine - despite it being his own goddamn face.

Still, he wondered...

"Your face, my face— whatever. If you really are," Pedro's eyes raked up and down his figure, "who you say you are, then understand this." He planted his feet beside each other and straightened himself to his full height, "The rules are different here. If you're still around after the convention has ended, I'll talk to you again, but don't hold your breath."

He stared for a second. Then, without another word, situated his helmet securely back on his head.

"Deal."