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

Rain

13th March 2020

It was raining.

Not a good omen, really. But.

Pedro was fussing over everything. Din wanted to tell him there was no need, that everything was fine, that he was fine, but... if it gave the man comfort to fuss, then who was he to speak out against it?

"No one else should be there," Pedro repeated for the tenth time that evening. "Especially at night. Jon's worried that you-"

"I'll be fine."

"-'ll find something that upsets you, or something, so really, if-"

"I'll be fine."

"-you do feel upset just let me know and-"

"Pedro."

Pedro's mouth snapped shut. "Right," he said. "You'll be fine. I know."

So they left the house. Got into the car. Sat in silence for a full thirty seconds before Pedro began to drive.

Peri had elected not to come with them. Din wasn't about to complain about it, but he couldn't help but wonder why.

"Does Jon know about the doctor?" he asked, filling the silence.

Pedro sighed, then shook his head. "Not yet. He's had enough of crazy for now."

"...are you going to tell him?"

"Maybe. I don't know. He's got so much on his plate. All of us get to go home but he has to monitor post-production and shit."

Din stared out the window of the car. He watched the houses fly by, slowly turning into shops as they got closer and closer to the inner city. The concrete was almost sparkling, combined with the downpour and the street-lamps.

"What's post-production?" he asked absent-mindedly.

"Like, special effects. We don't actually have real blasters. They need to add the sound and the lasers. Do the CGI, lighting, that sort of stuff."

"Jon does that?"

"No. There's a team. He oversees them and the entire process."

Din hummed. "A lot of people work on this?"

"Disney spends fifteen million dollars on each episode, so, yeah. A lot of people working on it."

After some time, the car pulled into the carpark. It was pitch black now, the only light illuminating their surroundings was the moon, the carpark being situated so far away from the street.

Din, without waiting for Pedro, pushed the car door open and stepped into the pouring rain. He swiftly pulled the hood of his jacket over his head.

Pedro was already crossing the carpark by the time Din had shut the door. He sighed, hugging himself and trudging after him.

The studio looked different at night. It was almost comforting, in a very strange way. The entire building shrouded in darkness and rain. Treading through puddles felt unusually homely, and, if Din focused hard enough, he could almost imagine walking through a marketplace on a rainy night, in search of his bounty.

And then the lights flickered on, and his imagination was broken.

Pedro pounded on the door, trying to fit as much under the roof's overhang as he could manage. Din stood just behind him with his arms crossed protectively over his chest and his hood pulled so far down over his head that it was covering the majority of his vision.