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

...shit.

Eleis,

Abbi is antsy and paranoid. I don't blame her. Please return soon. She lost her brother. She is grieving. May lose the baby. Not eating or sleeping. Having Ben watch her. Gabe is also paranoid. Things not looking good. Botched a mission. You said you have a plan. Where the fuck is it.

Heidi

-

Din didn't look up from his book when Christopher sat down at the foot of his bed.

"Are you- are you okay?"

"I can breathe," he grumbled, "if that's what you mean."

"Right. Right... is- is that Harry Potter? That you're reading?"

"Yes."

It was on the shelf in the lounge. After the last revelation, he found it only fitting... beyond that, he'd left his own copy at home, and needed a distraction.

"You... know, then? Robert told you, I mean."

"Yes. Are you going to keep talking?"

Christopher turned so that he was facing the door, away from Din.

"Sorry. I, I just wanted to thank you."

Din finally looked up, one eyebrow raised. "For?"

"For running after me. Earlier. I dunno what I woulda done but, but I wasn't in a right mind."

"Mhm."

"...right. Okay. You don't wanna be bothered. Okay. I'll... go."

Just as Chris stood to open the door, Din slammed the book shut. He jumped and whipped around with a yelp. Oh. He finally shaved.

"Sorry," Din grumbled. "Frustrated."

"There's a lot of that going around."

"How're your feet? They got fucked up."

"Oh." Chris lifted one foot up and slid off the sock. Beneath it were bandages, tightly wrapped around all but his toes. "They're fine. I guess. Robert said I'm lucky I didn't step on any glass."

"He put the bandages?"

"He's the one who set your arm, too. He was a-"

"Soldier, yes. I remember." A solider. He couldn't imagine it. Robert, sweet kind man, fighting in a war. Beyond that, one that "wasn't his to fight". That was what he'd said. So why? "Which war did he fight in?"

"That... question is more loaded than you think."

Din placed the book on the bedside table. He leaned back into the pillows. "Enlighten me."

"It was..." Christopher sighed and fell back onto the bed. He stared at the wall with a strange, far off look. "I dunno if it's my place. Okay. So, he was a wizard. You know that now."

"But there's no magic here, so he can't do spells."

"Yes. Well, sort of. But yes. So... this is just what he told me. So, he didn't like it. Being a wizard. He's half-blood, his mother was a witch, but he was raised by his father who was super weird about the whole thing. So he grew up with the same mindset, right? So, when the American Revolutionary War-"

"I'm sorry, what?"

The Revolution? 1765? The War of Independence? That American Revolutionary War?

Chris bit his lip. "I should've led with that."

"Uh, probably?"

"He's..." he sighed again. "He's from the eighteenth century. Sort of. The wizarding world's version of it, anyway. He looks... 'bout sixty, right?"