baby steps

Chapter 8

XXXVI—Thunder

The Mandalorian liked storms. He liked the patter of rain against buildings. He liked the crash of thunder, the sparks of lightning flashing in the dark sky. He liked storms mostly when he was nestled inside, he watched the rain pour down with the kid in his lap.

The lodging he got wasn't very good but it was warm enough and the kid liked it well enough. The storm was picking up, a harsh wind pushing the rain against the window. The kid slipped from his lap to the windowsill.

The lamps flickered. The hinges on the door next to this room creaked, footsteps, loud and uncaring, stumbled. Thunder boomed, a loud crackle that echoed through the sky. It sent the kid back against the edge of the window still.

The kid looked back at him and more lightning cracked in the sky, lighting up the poor village and cracking apart the sky with its roots of purple-white burning electricity.

Thunder, as always, followed, a faithful tail to the lighting, like a siren ringing. The kid turned tail and jumped into The Mandalorian's lap and curled against his stomach.

The Mandalorian stood up and moved back from the window and covered the kid's ears. Thunder and lightning continued their dance high above.

He smoothed his thumbs over his son's wrinkled forehead and for a moment just thought of the kid's species. What would happen if he ever found them? If they were like the kid, with the freaky ability, then they could keep him safe. What if his parents were there? He wants to say he'd do it, he'd give up the kid for his safety, give him back to his people. He'd almost done it before, on Sorgon. But he doesn't know if he could do it.

He sighed and adjusted himself, this was going to be a long night.

XXXVII—Anger

The kid has done some bad things, caused problems, got into trouble but this...this was the last straw.

The kid had destroyed the ship, he used his power to rip apart doors and start to crumble walls, tore buttons from their place, crushed the ladder and control panels in front of his door, dismantled his weapons.

"What. Did. You. Do," The Mandalorian said through gritted teeth. The kid stood before him, having the decency to look ashamed. This would cost a fortune. "I can't afford to fix this," his voice rose and he took off his helmet, looking around again and running a hand over his face. "Don't you get that? I can't always fix your mistakes. It's just you and me. And I—" he cut himself off shaking his head. He covered his mouth and took a deep breath. The kid had started to cry, his big ears turned down and curved inwards.

The Mandalorian crouched down and bit his lip. "I'm sorry for yelling. I won't do it again." He held out his finger and the kid didn't take it. "I'm sorry. I just, it's hard to get work."

The Mandalorian stood up and put back together his weapons, fixed the control panels, threw away and damaged food. Fixed as much as he could. He needed to find work quickly, they can't linger here much longer.

He braced his hands on the semi-destroyed control panel. "I need to leave," he whispered, knowing the kid was behind him, his large, sensitive ears heard every word.

He left without much fanfare, he found work but it still wasn't enough. He dropped the credits down and took off his armour. They couldn't afford loding. He found the kid, idly playing with the stupid metal ball. He must have just started to experiment using his power, maybe it's emotion driven and he was sick of being left behind.

Kid's did stupid things, maybe it was just that simple but The Mandalorian didn't ask and the kid couldn't anwser. He sat down next to the kid.

"I'm sorry," he pushed past the lump forming in his throat. He held out his finger and the kid looked up at him. "I won't yell again." That's not truly what this is all about but he offered it all the same. "It's my job to prepare you for the world. It's my job to keep you safe and I can't do that if we are stranded here, being hunted. I don't leave because I want to but because I have to, okay?"