Tumgik
#middle aged merrical very good for the soul
sesamestreep · 8 months
Note
Din Djarin, 30
30. was it worth it? (from this list) further adventures in that modern au with anti-social baseball cap wearing single dad din djarin because i have no idea what's happening on the show anymore, let's doooo this
Once Din pulls into the driveway, he cuts the engine and sends up a tentative prayer to the universe that the sound is not enough to wake Grogu up. The kid is zonked out in his booster seat in the back, clutching the stuffed animal Din had won him at the fair—at the booth where you shoot a target with a water pistol to make it move, of course, because his aim is still worth writing home about after all these years—and seemingly unbothered by the sudden quiet. Din breathes a sigh of relief and then shifts his focus to the daunting task of trying to get this kid out of his seat, up two flights of stairs, and into the apartment without somehow waking him. It's not going to be easy.
With another sigh, Din opens the door and keeps it there with his foot as he digs around in the center console for his phone and his wallet before pulling the keys out of the ignition. Belatedly, he sees the golden light pouring from the open garage door and realizes Cal must be working in there still. Before Din can properly catch up, Cal is already outside and on his way over.
"I'll uh," Din says, as he gets out, gesturing back at the car, "I'll get this out of your way in a few, I just gotta get the kid upstairs first."
Cal shakes his head, already smiling. "No rush," he says, easily. "We're not going anywhere. And besides, you're always up early anyway. Do it in the morning."
"I don't want to block you all in, if you need to—"
"Like I said, we're not going anywhere. It's fine."
"Well—”
"I'll ask Merrin, if it'll make you feel better! But she will definitely also say it's fine."
Merrin is Cal's—well, Din isn't sure if they're married or not. Cal doesn't wear a ring and Merrin wears dozens, so it's hard to tell. They're definitely a couple, because they do that seamless first person plural thing all the time when they talk about each other, but if they happen to refer to each other in the third person, they just use each other's names, rather than “my spouse” or “my partner”, except for the time Cal—perhaps accidentally—referred to her as "my Merrin" and she made a face and mimed punching him in the stomach for it. They live on the first floor and generally manage the property because they know the owner, which means Cal has all of his tools and his work bench in the garage for his various projects and Merrin tends to the garden out back, which grows a bunch of vegetables and strange plants that Din isn't convinced should be able to survive in this climate. He suspects she has a way with these things but has never bothered to ask about it.
"I'll take your word for it," Din says, reluctantly. "And I appreciate it."
"No problem," Cal replies. "Need any help?"
Din opens the door and starts unbuckling Grogu from his seat. "Uh, I think I'm alright, but thanks."
Cal leans slightly back, so as not to be in the way when Din gently lifts Grogu out of the car and tucks him over his shoulder. "Wow, you really tuckered him out, huh?"
"Yeah. We went to the fair, the, uh, Apple and Trout something or other...?"
Cal laughs. "Peach and Chowder Festival," he corrects. "I know it well."
"This is a strange town."
"I know that too. Looks like you did alright, though."
"Yeah," Din says, gingerly lifting the tail of the stuffed shark in acknowledgement. Another parent at the booth had claimed it was a knockoff of some famous trademarked shark but Din doesn't know about all that. He only knows it was the next best thing in Grogu's mind when there were no frog or lizard plushes to be won. "He's happy, at least."
Cal tips his head to the side, curiously. "You didn't enjoy yourself?"
"Ah, well, you know...crowds and lots of noise and kids all hopped up on sugar...that's not really my thing. But it's not about me, it's about him, so..."
"Yeah," Cal says, with a small smile. He puts a hand gently on Grogu's back. "Bet that makes it all worth it, huh?"
Din suddenly feels very stupid for never bothering to ask Cal or Merrin if they have kids. He’s never been great at that stuff, asking the right questions to really get to know people, and so he can only guess what their situation is. He thinks they're about his age, give or take a few years, and that means they're young enough that, if they had any children, he expects they'd still be living together, but he's not sure about that. They could have kids old enough to be living on their own, he supposes. And they've always been kind to Grogu, never once making a snide comment about him not talking much or needing his space sometimes, the way some other folks do. Sometimes, Cal will even let the kid hang out in the garage to watch him work, waving away Din's concerns about him being too much trouble by pointing to Beady, the cat that's almost always curled up around his neck or perched on his shoulder.
"If I can work with this one around," Cal's fond of saying, "your son's no bother."
Still, Din's not sure how exactly to ask that politely—if they have children of their own or not—especially if the answer is more complicated than a simple yes or no. And there is something complicated and sad about what Cal's expression is doing right now.
"Anyway," he says, cheerfully after a moment, and the expression is gone, tucked away somewhere. "I'll get out of your hair. Just wanted to offer some help if you needed it."
Din clears his throat, thinking about how his therapist is always talking about how he should get better at accepting the kindness other people offer him and also something about how his upbringing had convinced him there's some nobility in suffering needlessly. He probably can get Grogu inside and into bed without any assistance, but it would be easier with help. There had also been a discussion in therapy about depriving people of the satisfaction of showing their love for him by turning down their offers to be of service.
"Actually," he says, feeling foolishly nervous about something so small and seemingly easy, "if you could grab the door for me, that would be a huge help."
"Of course," Cal says, with an easy smile. "Happy to."
"And let’s just, uh, make sure we don't lose the shark,” Din says, as they make their way up the steps. “I don’t think I have it in me to win another one.”
11 notes · View notes