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

Ghg.

Trigger warning: Panic attack. An asterisk will be placed before and after a potentially upsetting scene.

25th Feb 2020

He woke up on the couch.

Pedro wasn't next to him, anymore. Rather, he was talking in hushed tones with the doctor over at the dining table, slaving over a sheet of paper.

Din squinted. Half-asleep, and tired as hell. He went to rub his eyes with his fists, only to find that he was wrapped up in a blue quilt.

"What time is it?" he croaked.

Pedro glanced over at him. His glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose. "It's midday. I didn't want to wake you."

Din groaned, untangling himself from the quilt. He heard Edgar whine and glanced down at his feet hanging off the armrests to find the dog was laying between them, curled into a ball.

"Hi dog," Din sighed.

Edgar whined again, resting his head on Din's leg, as if to say, don't move, I'm comfortable!

"I gotta get up."

But the dog didn't budge.

"I'm getting up."

He moved his legs again, and Edgar jumped off of the couch, landing on the floor with a thud. He glared up at Din.

"Sorry, dog."

He wasn't very sorry, really.

Din stood from the couch, stretching his arms up over his head. He felt a few joints pop and he winced.

"The convention is today," Pedro said. "I think we should leave for it soon."

Din turned to look at the clock. "When is it?" he mumbled.

"Starts in about an hour. It goes until six."

The clock read 12:06.

He found himself wishing Pedro had woken him up, after all. He'd wanted to delay going to the convention as much as possible. Since, well...

He knew he'd just be disappointed, in the end. Nothing was ever that simple.

Why would it be that simple?

Din sighed. He trudged over to the fridge, pulling the door open.

"You got milk," he said.

"Earlier today, yes," Pedro replied.

He grabbed the carton out of the fridge and plunked it on the counter. He grabbed a bowl from the drawer then some cereal from the cupboard.

Din grabbed his bowl of cereal and took it to the table. He sat immediately across from the doctor, who appeared to physically shy away.

Din tried to read the doctor's writings upside down, but it was written in a foreign language he didn't recognise.

So instead Din shovelled a spoonful of cereal and glared intently out one of the windows.

*

Pedro and Pershing were talking to each other now. But he couldn't focus on what they were saying.

There were birds outside. They squawked at each other. The baby birds squawked for food. The mother would pick a worm out of the ground and feed it to the babies. The babies would eat it then squawk more. Then more. The process repeated.

What's happening?

The TV was running on a low volume. He hadn't noticed it before. A tired reporter was recounting some current events on the news. Din tried to focus on it. Read it. But it was just noise. Just more noise. Just more sounds.