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mercurydancer · 2 years

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It Happened Quiet Pt. 38

Rip and Tear

The storm breaks.

Maul reflects.

Warnings: Non-descriptive gore. It's badass. Warnings also for tears.

Tiq carefully coaxed Maul up, staring into yellow eyes that pierced, the Nightbrother staring into his own red with a hazy film that covered them, trapped in a vision, trapped in…

“No escape,” Maul managed, his voice choked, spilling from his mouth, “no escape… It is coming and I cannot…I cannot run…”

“What is coming?” Tiq asked, “Maul, show me, let me see…”

Tiq reached out to Maul’s Force Presence, reached out to that oil-slick burn, and after a moment, feeling it shudder near him, it finally latched hold. Tiq followed it back, following it into a mind that burned, confusion and fear and such a medley of emotions and pain… There was so much pain…

Tiq followed the pain back, and found his mind full of a swamping of images, green and blue lightsabers, screaming…the sound of…something in the background, something else, but Tiq did not know what it was, everything was muddled, confused… But the green and blue lightsabers did not change.

The fact that there was not a red light as well was stark, and after a moment where Tiq fought to make sense of the vision, fought to help Maul put it into some semblance of order… Decided that it simply had no order to it. Maul had been given a muddle, a burst of insight that was perhaps clouded, perhaps blocked by other means…perhaps even the Force Nexus itself was fighting him. Ultimately Tiq could not help him interpret it, and so he fought to close it, fought to help Maul discard it. Slowly, slowly, Maul calmed, the pain ceased, and he was able to breathe.

Tiq took a breath, pulling back, feeling the sweat drip from his brow, and wiping it away.

“Gracious, no wonder you’re having such difficulty,” Tiq said, “that’s hardly anything at all, just a threat of violence from something with the lightsabers of a Jedi.”

“Or a Jedi,” Maul said softly.

“Or a Jedi,” Tiq agreed. “Is that the clearest it has been? Are they always this chaotic?”

“I don’t know,” Maul said. “I feel…I feel as though they have been getting clearer, but the most I feel is…pain,” he said.

Tiq frowned slightly, rubbing at his forehead. “I did feel that,” Tiq said, “or at least some, I did not follow it all the way through. There’s little wonder you’ve been throwing up given how strong it is. It almost feels…”

“Like I’ve been bisected,” Maul mumbled.

“…Let us hope not,” Tiq said. “You do not have your saber.”

“I do not think so,” Maul said. “I have never seen a red light. I have not…” He rubbed his face. “I do not think that I would use another color.”

“Unless, perhaps, it is borrowed?” Tiq frowned. “Perhaps you are utilizing another’s?”

“Either way…” Maul frowned, “it seems as though I lose.”

Tiq took in that statement for a moment, thought of the chaos, the pain, and finally shook his head. “I’m going to be honest, Maul,” Tiq said softly. “Prophesy has never been one of my strongest talents. Visions, regardless of the fact that they are seen within the mind, are often from outside of it, and generally I tend to see them as a nuisance.”

Maul laughed, a startled sound, blinking at him. “You…see visions as a nuisance? But are they not meant to be gifts of the Force itself?”

“Perhaps,” Tiq said, waving it away. “But often what I find it does is give undue confusion and suffering to the person receiving them. Particularly if there’s no clear way of preventing or changing them. It makes my job difficult, because it’s hardly like I can say there is no reason for fear. Obviously there is, something is happening, something will break… But if we are a Jedi there is a certain…let it be so sort of approach. It is generally considered dangerous to change the future. You never know what you could be causing, or if in your attempts to change it you bring it about.”

“Truly?” Maul asked.

“Indeed,” Tiq sighed. “I’ve been alive long enough I’ve seen various people make the attempt. A lot of the time it…does not end well.” Tiq clapped his hands, “So, my personal philosophy on visions is if the Force allows for us to see a certain glimpse of the future, and then does not provide a way to either solve it or understand why it is happening, then it can keep these visions to itself, and just let the future happen.”

“That is a very…hands-off approach,” Maul noted.

“I do think that I come to the same conclusion as other Jedi,” Tiq acknowledged, “just in a different way.”

Maul was quiet for a moment. “Do you believe giving me my saber would lead to a worse future?”

Tiq sucked on his teeth, the sound a particularly violent and hostile one that he tended to avoid as often as possible, but found himself slipping on in that moment. Maul raised a brow. Tiq reflected that he probably deserved it.

“Possibly,” Tiq finally acknowledged. “A few reasons – you have not touched your saber in…over a year. It was created and attuned to the you that was in our halls over a year ago. I…may be wrong of course, and perhaps you would be able to overcome that, but it is something that I think might at least give you pause.”

And as Tiq said it he could see that Maul found himself hit full in the face with the fact that it was true in a way he had not realized before. Maul had created those crystals, had poured so much of himself into them that they would be almost a mirror of the young man that had been. A young man that Tiq thought in a lot of ways was no more. “They would be,” Maul said softly. “I had not…thought of that.”

“Understandably,” Tiq said, “it’s been by your side for however many years, you have grown used to it.” Tiq rubbed his face.

“And it has no connection with the idea that I may perhaps go on a rampage and would need to be cut down by Jedi?” Maul asked.

“Excuse the fuck out of you,” Tiq snapped immediately, and it was Maul’s turn to make a rather violent and befuddled sound, leaning back from Tiq as he glared, “I told you that I trusted you, Maul, that has not changed. Take that thought and shoot it for me.”

Maul finally laughed, smiling briefly, but it did not last long. “I had thought so.”

“When it was first happening?”

“Yes,” Maul agreed softly. “I told you…I told you about Kilindi…about Meltch…I had thought…that perhaps my Master had come back. That I had followed his wishes.”

“Are you still afraid of that?” Tiq asked.

Maul fell silent and Tiq waited patiently, staring out the window, taking in the slowly rising sun.

“No,” Maul finally said quietly. “I am not.”

Tiq smiled. “Well,” Tiq sighed. “I believe you. And…the truth of it is, Maul, I do not like the way your visions feel. I do not trust it. I do not like the fact that there is so much that is vague… And I certainly do not like the fact that you seem to be unarmed. So…” Tiq held his hand up idly, calling to a Kyber that he had known for years and years, feeling the way it resonated to his being, to his soul, and felt the leather-bound grip snap into his hand. “Until I can get you yours, Maul, I want you to keep this. But I am going to get yours back, pardon or no pardon before this day is through.”

Tiq looked over to Maul, who was staring at the saber in his outstretched palm and found himself fighting back a smile.

Maul looked absolutely…

Maul could not believe it.

Maul was staring at a…at a… “You would…” Maul licked his lips, uncertain how to properly… “But…”

“Maul,” Tiq said, and his voice was as impossibly warm as it was amused, and he looked up to meet Tiq’s gaze, seeing the amusement there, “I do not see your saber, but there is no reason that one of the green blades cannot be my own. I refuse to leave you unarmed. Not when I know that this is such a present danger. Furthermore, I’m certain that not only can I trust you not to bleed it, but I do also think that it would handle your Dark very well. The Kyber has grown quite familiar with you, I’m sure you’ll find. At least familiar enough to work with you.”

Tiq no longer gripped it, instead holding it out to him on an outstretched palm, and Maul…stared at a leather-bound hilt, for a moment completely blown away by the realization that… It was a neat weapon, and the more he looked at it the more he was certain it was perfectly suited to the one that wielded it. When Maul still made no move to take it, Tiq laughed quietly, and Maul watched as he lifted it with the Force itself, felt the resonance of the Kyber within it, and realized for the first time what a living Kyber actually meant.

Maul could feel the Kyber within, and he realized in that moment that it seemed as amused as Tiq was. That realization spreading through him, Maul reached out with his own Force presence, brushing up against the Kyber within, letting it feel the Dark that he wielded, and in turn feeling the way it almost…hummed, the consideration that it was filled with, and then the moment of acceptance.

The hilt slapped into his palm with a satisfying thwack, the leather grip softening the feeling, while providing an easier hold on a hilt that was obviously designed for a Rodian’s longer fingers. It was thicker than his own had been, not to any uncomfortable amount, but certainly noticeable, and as Maul casually toggled the activator, the Kyber burst to life in a bright and solid green, burning and warm.

The Kyber felt content.

Maul stared at Tiq in something bordering amazement, only to be greeted with an almost identical picture of contentment.

“Well, it seems that you’ve gotten properly acquainted,” Tiq smiled. “Take care of that, will you? I know I don’t truly have to remind you, but…”

“I will,” Maul promised, and deactivated the saber, holding it in his hand with such… “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Tiq said, “I’m hardly going to let you go without a means of defense, and if I cannot get your own saber…maybe it really is mine. If nothing else I can certainly hope.”

“I…do as well,” Maul said softly.

“Now, since I do feel a bit strange without it, I am going to go and see about getting your saberstaff back,” Tiq said, standing. “No one should ask, but if they do, let them feel the Kyber. They’ll know it was given freely. And! You could always just wait here. It might be safer in the long run.”

“Perhaps,” Maul agreed.

“I’ll have breakfast sent up,” Tiq said, and smiled. “The Guards are watching things, Maul, you aren’t alone in this.”

“I know,” Maul said, and he found that it was true.

Tiq smiled at him warmly, stretched briefly and walked out the door, leaving Maul alone with a feeling of warmth in his chest and a lightsaber in his palm.

After a moment of thought he stood, moving the furniture around with the Force to create a wide-open spot in the center. That done, he held the lightsaber briefly, before bringing it up into a guard, igniting the blade as he did so and feeling the weapon’s eagerness as it was activated. Maul had a momentary realization that it was getting used to him as well.

Well…

If that was the case…

Maul’s stance shifted to Juyo, and slowly began to let himself Burn. The Kyber hummed. Brimming with resonance and warmth it thrummed and Maul found himself unduly pleased. It really had grown used to him.

Maul fell into his katas, allowing his body to follow the motions that had been imbedded into his muscles to the point where he no longer had to give thought to them. There was no need to bleed the Kyber, Maul was realizing, while it did not Burn it also did not fight him, and seemed wholly content with his usage of it, regardless of both ferocity and the violence of his movements, as well as the Heat of Maul’s presence.

Somehow it was not something he was expecting.

Maul sheathed the blade and finally placed it on his belt, feeling the magnet latch in that satisfying way that he had been missing. It was not as long or as heavy on his hip as his own, but it was nonetheless a weapon that he had missed.

Maul had missed the weight, more than he had thought, and feeling Tiq’s blade there made him ache more for his own.

He hoped that Tiq would return with it soon

Tiq stood in the lift heading towards the council, his eyes closed, slipping slowly into a meditative trance, feeling out the Force.

Tiq had been quite honest when he said that Visions were not his specialty. He did not get them often and while he believed in them, their annoyance was heavy. The fact that they often were a cause of anxiety to his already anxious patients was not a fact to be ignored and often caused him a great deal of irritation. Particularly because they could not be ignored. They could not be. Tiq knew that they were true and that they could contain dangerous threats, and it seemed that Maul’s were particularly deadly, to him if no one else, and Tiq doubted the idea that no one else would be affected.

Tiq remembered the impression of screaming, of fear that pulsed, and found himself slipping deeper into his trance, trying to feel out…

Tiq’s eyes flew open, a sudden burst of foreboding filling him as the doors of the lift opened.

A familiar hum filled the air and Tiq fell backwards, feeling a line of heat carve the air through where he had been standing, rolling backwards, and gaining distance he had a moment to stare at…a…

Training droid?

And then it attacked again, Tiq dodging a lightsaber that was absolutely at its highest setting.

Well.

If it wasn’t the consequences of his actions.

And then Tiq brought a boot into its faceplate and sent it careening off the wall.

And hoped against all hope that Maul would be able to keep himself safe.

Tiq didn’t think he’d be able to bring back Maul’s saber soon after all.

Maul’s attention was brought to the door, hearing a knock that was…heavier than usual. The presence behind it was…

Maul frowned, before finally opening the door, finding…

“Krell,” Maul noted quietly, taking a step back, eyeing the Besalisk quietly. He did not…sense any hostility, and after a moment he realized there was a breakfast tray. Maul looked from Krell to the tray. “Thank you,” he said, “would you mind placing it on the counter?”

Krell raised a brow, something almost amused in the glance. “Not at all,” he turned and moved to do so.

Dark burst into being, loud and sudden, an explosion of feeling, of warning, of death, and Maul reached out to it, he could not let it hurt…

Maul could not see, Maul could not see…the sudden impact of something against his skull so violent, so sudden, he was on his knees, pain and pain and pain… It had hit the lower part of his skull, where his vertebra met his skull, and it throbbed, one of the few vulnerabilities, it hurt…and…

There was a large hand on his shoulder, pushing him down, and Maul reacted instinctively, turning his head, and biting down into the massive finger that he found there. There was a loud cry, and another hand grabbed his head, engulfing it within hands that were so large…so large… They pulled at his ear, violent, violent, almost enough to rip it from his flesh and Maul instinctively let go, gasping, even as he called upon the Force, called upon the Dark, flared it out to shove backwards, shove away…

Something clicked around his neck, and it was gone.

It was gone.

Maul felt the hands let him go, felt the…felt… There was just pain.

Pain and…and…

Krell.

Krell looked down at him dispassionately, even as he held his other hand, his finger bleeding… Maul smiled at him, baring blood-stained teeth, amusement burning within him. Krell frowned, and his boot lifted…

Maul was dizzy, the Force was gone, he pulled away, but it was not fast enough. The kick landed on his stomach, winding him, curling around it, dry-heaving and…

“Pathetic,” Krell’s voice rumbled softly. “So easily felled… All it took was a distraction, and all of your concern, all of your care for the rest blinded you to what was happening. For the threat to you.”

Maul looked up at him, breathing, breathing, tears of pain sliding from his eyes, curled over his stomach, his… “Threat?” he managed softly.

Krell sneered at him. “Oh yes, but…for as fun as it would be to trade barbs, I have another job to see to.”

“Why?” Maul managed softly, “who…impress?”

“The only thing that matters,” Krell answered. “The only one that matters.”

Maul’s insides went cold, staring up at Krell who smiled down at him, and then turned and walked to the door.

“I recommended that they give you a door that could lock from the outside, that would keep you in,” Krell said. “They did not agree…but there are other ways. I am going to leave you now, Maul, to lay there and know that you have not only failed…I will succeed where you have fallen short. I will deliver the blow to the Heart of the Jedi…and you will remain their pet.”

And Krell walked through…walked through and…and… The door closed, and Maul could hear…could hear the grinding of internal parts, of…of… Maul stared at the door, dread, and fear and…

He was gone.

He was gone and Maul could do nothing, the collar burning around his neck in a way it never had, the awful pain…and…

The Dark was gone, the Force was gone, everything was gone.

As Maul lay there he could hear the sound of lightsabers, of…of screaming…

Of fear.

Maul could do nothing.

Tiq had…Tiq had given…

Maul worked himself to his knees, worked himself to his knees and reached for…

Tiq’s lightsaber was gone. It was gone, he had lost it…

Krell had taken it and Maul had not even noticed, and he was…

Maul was alone, trapped within the room that he had loved so much, and he could do…

Why?

Why had this happened? Krell had spoken…

But Maul did not…Maul did not believe him.

Why would his Master have talked to Krell, why would he have spoken to…when Maul had…when he had…?

No. No.

It wasn’t true, it could not be true, and even if it was…

Maul would not be the knife in the dark. Maul would not be the knife at the heart of the Jedi.

Maul needed to be the knife that protects.

Maul needed to protect.

Maul touched his hands to the force-field around the collar, and he was…Maul was trapped, he was trapped he could do nothing, fight nothing, the Jedi were going…they were going to die. They were going to miss the knife in the dark, the knife of their own… Maul felt despair and horror and true and utter fear rise up within him.

Maul could do nothing.

And even as the despair rose up to engulf him, Maul felt something else sparking to life. Something else rising up to meet it, something…

Anger.

Maul was furious.

Maul was furious at the fact that he had been trapped, that Krell had fooled him, that Krell thought to…

Maul’s teeth bared, fury and hate, and Maul was black with it, black with hatred, and all of that fury, all of that hate was taken and directed towards the collar that was upon him.

Maul felt the way it resisted, he felt the way it tried to twist away from his Reach, tried to twist away from his Force, and his Dark…tried to shock him, tried to stop him, and he snarled, reaching up both hands on either side of it, ignoring the pain, ignoring the way it burned, fighting and fighting... Maul had worn this for a year. He knew it deactivated and activated, he knew the feeling of it in his hands and around his neck. He knew it. He knew it and that knowledge... Maul reached through the pain and

RIPPED

The collar fell from his neck, broken into sparking pieces that crackled on the ground, and the Dark came back.

Maul stretched out to meet it, bring it into him, breathing it in, breathing it in…

And Burned.

Maul stood up slowly, feeling the aftershocks of electricity, of burned skin, and fed them to the Force. Maul fed them to the Dark.

Krell wanted to act as though he was of the Dark?

Maul would show him what that looked like.

Maul would show him death.

Maul walked towards the door, unsure how long it had taken, but knowing, knowing, with every single breath in his body, that this could not continue.

Knowing that he had to stopthis.

Maul reached out, pressing his fingers to the door, feeling the way that the internal structure inside of it ground, the way it jammed, and reached into the mechanism with mechu-deru, reached into the destruction that Krell had caused…and broke the piece that jammed it.

The door flew open, and Maul ducked, catching the fist that launched towards his head, feeling the impact of metal against his palm, and staring at the blankly staring face of a training droid.

Maul did not have time for this.

Maul took the arm within his hand and ripped back, bringing his foot into its faceplate, effectively ripping its arm from its body, spinning around, and sending the droid’s sparking arm into the body of another droid. They stumbled back, stumbled away, and Maul took the opportunity provided.

Maul ran.

There was chaos, the Temple in a turmoil, and as he ran he could see the droids, the sheer number of them, the threats to all levels, could feel them… Voids within the Force, but nonetheless a threat, nonetheless a deadly tool…

It was interesting how it seemed that the tools that the Jedi had used for centuries had been turned against them. The training droids that they used to train their younglings, their own skills…

They had turned against them.

And the true cause of everything, the ultimate culprit…

That man could run. He could escape and never…never be touched.

And the realization burned.

Where had he gone?

What had he meant?

But even as Maul thought about it, it hit him. With chilling certainty Maul understood.

The Heart of the Jedi.

The Younglings.

Krell was going after the Younglings.

And with his spirit screaming for vengeance, for death, Maul ran to the stairs and launched himself up them, rolling past two droids attacking a Jedi.

Maul spent just long enough to grab one of the droids with the Force and yank, the Jedi managing to slice its head off and fight the other on more equal footing.

Chaos.

Everywhere Maul ran, everywhere he looked there was more fights, more violence, but he had only one thought, one place…

The crèche was before him, Maul only needed to get there, he had to…

There was another running with him, another running, and Maul looked, seeing Obi-Wan there, seeing… Obi-Wan’s gaze went towards his own, for just a split second, for just a moment, and Maul knew…

Maul knew that Obi-Wan was with him.

But even as he realized this he also realized that there was a…

“NO!” Maul cried the word out, even as Obi-Wan visibly realized, and there was a pause, before Maul felt something grab him, and throw.

Maul let the Force propel him, utilized its own push, adding his own to its Force, and slid underneath the ray shield right before it had a chance to close upon him. He tucked himself in, skidding to a halt, facing Obi-Wan, hands instinctively rising.

“Go!” Obi-Wan called, “there’s a ray shield override over here, I’ll get it open, just go!”

Maul inclined his head and immediately turned on his heel, charging down into the depths. He could feel and hear the cracklings of the ray shields on either side of him, ready to…

Maul laughed, he laughed, and he laughed, feeling the rising realization of just what he was running into, just what he was doing.

Maul remembered how this began.

Maul would find out how it would end.

Obi-Wan had seen Maul running and knew.

He knew upon the very first sight of him that Maul knew exactly what was happening, and so he had followed Maul, knowing that he would know where to go, what to stop…

The realization that they were running to the crèche, that they were…

It was the only part of the Jedi Temple outside of the prisons that had deeper protection, that had ray shields…

And even as those shields came down, Obi-Wan grabbed the only one that he had ever seen survive reaching through them, the one that was lighter than he was and could be thrown easier with the Force…

And launched him.

Maul had caught on quickly, reacting with an immediate latch on, propelling himself further, the ray shield just barely closing between them.

For a moment Maul had stared at him, his fingers raised for mechu-deru, but Obi-Wan yelled at him to continue.

Obi-Wan knew that he could get through this, he knew…

The realization that Maul was unarmed only came when he heard Maul laughing, the realization of where Obi-Wan had just thrown him, of the sight of rows of ray shields crashing down between them…

Obi-Wan had a moment where he could not breathe.

And then he breathed it out and got to work.

There were bodies.

Even as Maul ran he could see bodies on either side, but he had no opportunity to stop, could call on no Kybers, as ray shield after ray shield closed behind him.

Maul ran as fast as he could and knew it would be enough.

Maul saw the blastdoors coming down at the end of the hall, and pushed just one last burst of Dark into his run, practically flying, and finally sliding forward on his knees underneath the door just as it closed, and launched himself to his feet.

The younglings were there, the younglings were there, and they were… The tears, the tears, and the fear and…

“Krell,” Maul said, and Krell looked at him, his hold on the double-bladed saber that he held in his hand loose and amused as he turned his head to look at him.

“Well,” Krell said, “you really are a cockroach. You always find a way to show up where you aren’t wanted.”

“Talent,” Maul said easily, waving his hand expansively. “Get away from the younglings.”

Krell laughed, not even bothering to square his body to him, easily loosely passing the saber through the air, taunting, taunting… “And please, tell me why I should listen to you?” Krell asked.

“Because I am going to kill you,” Maul said. “If you do not put your saber down and back away… I am going to kill you.”

Krell sneered at him, “how could you possibly…”

Maul sent out a blast of the Force, shoving all of the Younglings back and away, before reaching up, grabbing the chandelier and sending it crashing down towards Krell.

Krell swiped up with his saber, a sharp and violent motion, bored and lazy, and Maul launched himself forward.

He locked his spine, locked his shoulders, and plowed himself directly into Krell’s side, sending him stumbling, rolling over him and landing a kick directly to his jaw that sent him tumbling back, reaching out with the Force once again, shoving the younglings further back, “RUN!” he yelled.

They ran.

Maul turned his attention back to Krell, falling backwards underneath a spinning blade that would have bisected him, kicking his shin, and pulling his body away, reaching out and grabbing a chunk of wall with the Force, tearing it away and launching it at Krell’s face as Maul rolled further out of reach.

Krell roared with fury, igniting his other blades and Maul fell into the opening form of Teräs Käsi.

It was time to kill a Jedi.

Krell took him in for a moment, and the fury that he could see there, could feel was so much like his own, a burning Dark… But it was not his own, and for as Dark as it tried to be, Maul could feel the cracks. Krell spun one blade and then the other, a spinning wheel of blue and green that flashed and burned and Maul knew what was coming.

Maul knew that this may end in his death.

Maul did not care.

Maul was not going to be the only one to die.

Krell launched himself forward, spinning the blades horizontally at his legs and at his head. Maul dove, spinning through the heat on either side of him, bashing his horns directly into Krell’s gut, snapping his legs out into a full split, catching either one of his wrists at the hilt’s rotation, locking them in place long enough to twist himself down and through Krell’s legs as Krell fell forward to his knees, winded, sending a quick kick into the back of Krell’s head for good measure.

Krell swung back, Maul diving, rolling out of the way, reaching out with the Force, and ripping up the tiling, sending it flying at Krell as he charged forward once again, the blades in a cross formation that made them difficult to evade.

Difficult.

Maul grinned, all teeth, and threw himself back, even as the blades swung through where he had been, ripping glass from the chandelier and launching it at Krell’s back, tearing it through him, Krell yelled, and just kept coming.

Maul felt the wall rearing up behind him, knew he had nowhere to run and leapt back and planted his legs upon it, before springing off of it, spinning in a high arc over Krell’s head and reaching out with the Force once again, shattering the transparisteel windows, gripping the glass within his hold, and launching it towards Krell.

Krell changed his attempt to cut through Maul’s waist into a push as he stopped the glass from tearing through him – though not before a few shards cut red through his skin. Krell snarled, running forward, Maul landing in a crouch, and using his toe as a pivot, spun around in a wide circle, calling up all of the shards that yet remained a shattered mess and rose it up into a violent twisting maelstrom with him at the center. For a moment they stood at an impasse, for a moment Krell stared at him, and then Maul sent it flying out once again towards Krell.

Krell snarled, batting away the glass with the Force as Maul reached back and ripped down a full pane, launching it forward, the wind roaring around them as it was finally allowed into the room it had been kept from for so long…and Krell brought his saber up, cutting through the transparisteel down the center as he ran directly through it.

The molten slick this caused as the heat burned away could not be avoided, and it splashed into Krell’s face, the Pretender – for this was what he was, trying so hard, and so deeply to be some Sith, to be Power, and Maul hated. He hated, even as he listened to how the Pretender howled in pain and anger and charged through. The snarl from the Pretender had become a growl and Maul’s lips peeled back in a growl of his own, even as he was forced to dive back, flipping, and spinning as the swords spun towards him, buzzing through the air with a sickening hum.

Maul pulled back, rocked on his feet and as the Pretender wound up again he leapt forward, used the Force to speed his trajectory, sending him through the spinning blades once again, a push of Force to either side sending them bouncing away, and bringing his feet directly into the Pretender’s stomach, pushing off and twisting through the sabers yet again, the Pretender buckling after the initial hit, the pattern of his swings stuttering enough to make it through untouched.

Maul spun, leaping up and bringing his elbow into the Besalisk’s neck, only to be caught by a free arm and slammed onto the ground. Maul heaved, the air sent from him, and hurriedly retaliated with a Push in the Force that sent the Pretender back and up before he could run him through. The Besalisk crashed into the ceiling, Maul rolled to his feet, sweeping down and around, collecting the glass in a massive swirl, and throwing it up at him.

The lightsabers buzzed, spinning as they did their best to deflect the shards.

A Push towards Maul was enough to break the concentration that kept Krell pressed against the ceiling, Maul flipping backwards as the glass rained back down around him, bubbling himself to keep them from ripping through his skin, even as the Pretender fell back through it, his blades spinning as they threatened to cut through him, Maul fell backwards, and his blades were now in different rotations, learning from all of his mistakes, and Maul…

Could not have that.

Maul grabbed a pillar behind Krell, pulling it violently from the top, feeling the grinding as it lost its connection to the ceiling, as it fell forward towards the Pretender, and Krell turned, catching it with the Force.

Maul ran towards his unprotected back at Krell’s distraction, leaping into the air and bringing his elbow solidly into the back of the Pretender’s neck…

It did not have enough force to kill him.

Maul was out of practice.

The realization burned within him just as Maul realized he had gotten too close, just as he realized…

A free arm spun up and back, even as Maul used all of his power to push away.

There was a searing pain, tearing its way across his middle and Maul’s body screamed, even as he flipped through the air, even as he landed…he landed on his hands and his knees, he had his…he had his knees…he had…

Blood spilled from his lips, and he heard Krell laughing, the pillar casually flicked to the side as he turned to stare at Maul, at where he…

There was a line torn across Maul’s middle, a searing line of cauterized flesh, and…and…

Maul looked up at him, took in Krell as he stood there, the casual way he flipped his sabers, and recognized that there was another voice crying out, a voice… Maul looked to his right, seeing that Obi-Wan…

Obi-Wan was behind another ray shield.

The irony was not lost on him, and Maul wanted to laugh, even as he felt his body strain, the agony of his abdominal wall buckling…

But as Krell focused on Obi-Wan, Maul did something else, something he knew was going to be a mistake, but something he could not resist, something he needed…

Maul locked his spine, locked on target, and launched.

Maul felt the cauterization rip open even as he felt his horns impact upon something that squished underneath the hardness of his skull, underneath the violence… and he heard Krell’s gasp of agony as Maul absolutely destroyed any chance he had ever had at reproduction, felt the way heat fell towards him, and even as Maul caught the lightsaber before it impacted him, he was aware of red…and red…and red…seeping from…seeping from his…middle…

Maul had enough of himself to move up and onto Krell’s back, staring down at…at what came…

And the thought idly drifted through his mind…

That it could be used as a rope…

And Maul reached out with the Force, grabbing it, and grabbing Krell, and holding the blade in his hand, and it burned, it burned, and he could feel the Dark screaming, searingas he forced it to do his will, as he roared through the pain and the fear, and the hate and the hate and the hate…

Maul’s teeth were a bloody snarl as he wrapped a loop around Krell’s neck, the Force running through it, holding it stable keeping it whole, and tugged, feeling the agony of it ripping through his body and as he agonized, as he screamed, as he choked Krell to death he was aware of the Kybers within his hold, the way they screamed…screamed…screamed…

And the light burned red.

“Goodbye, Pretender,” Maul breathed in Krell’s ear, and brought the saber down, cutting through Krell’s arm, through his torso, through his arm…and fell forward, fell off, crumbling to the ground in blood and agony and…

And death…

Someone…was there…someone was coming.

Obi-Wan had screamed, he had screamed and then he had watched with something numb, something horrified as Maul had used his own… Krell had choked, had reached up to grab it with grasping fingers, even as his other hand had released the hilt of his other saber, reflexively going to save his airway…

Maul had held the stolen saber aloft, held it there above him like a trophy, like a kill, as the room, as the power within turned Dark and Dark and Dark and Obi-Wan had felt the sheer awful deadly power of it all swell into a boiling massive inferno that rose goosebumps on his skin, all of the hairs upon his body standing on end… And Obi-Wan watched as the blades within Maul’s grasp turned a deadly and violent red.

And as it burned red, as it finally turned the color of Sith, of…of…

Maul severed Krell’s torso, spilling forward with the head, still attached, still…

The ray shield finally opened as he broke through its last defense, and Obi-Wan ran. His first immediate concern was with the loop wrapped around Krell’s neck and he hurriedly, carefully, began working to loosen them, his hands stained with blood so dark it was almost black, and even as he worked he called his comm to his mouth with the Force, barely aware of what he was yelling, even as he heard the confirmation, the promise that help was on the way, carefully taking the gore in his hands and taking them back, shoving them into the abdominal cavity, and putting pressure upon the wound, even as Maul tried to writhe away, the sheer pain of it…

And even as Obi-Wan put pressure upon it, even as he did it, he could see…he could see golden eyes…

Golden eyes that were beginning to dim, that…that…

Obi-Wan realized then…he realized that Maul was letting go.

He realized that Maul was going to die.

And even as he made that realization he found that it was too much to bear.

“No!” Obi-Wan yelled, “No, you are not allowed to die!” and the words were foolish, and Obi-Wan was a Jedi, he knew better, and yet…and yet… “You’re only now beginning to live, you’re only now beginning to know that there is hope, that there is good! You saved the Younglings! You cannot die now!”

Maul stared at him, and his gaze was hazy, was…was…

“You’re Darth Maul!” the words roared out of Obi-Wan’s mouth as though they had meaning, had weight, full of anger and despair and utter desperation. “You told me once that you were too angry to die!” and as he shouted it he stared into golden eyes that stared into his own, their light dimming, dimming… “So, get angry! Get angry, rage! It is your tool, your weapon, your salvation! Rage, Lord Maul, do not let him win! You have a chance! You have a chance, do not let it slip away, there is so much you have yet to do! RAGE!”

Golden eyes stared into his own, dazed, dazed…

And then slowly, slowly…

Obi-Wan felt the seep of oil flood forth…

And burn.

Golden eyes burned acid and yellow and violent, the Dark exploding into a maelstrom of fire and HEAT. The heat was so much that for a moment Obi-Wan had to back away, the sheer psychic backlash so much it was almost poisonous, but he did not pull his hands away from where he had placed them, holding his guts together while help came, while…

Maul Burned.

Maul Burned as blood spilled from his lips, as his teeth were bared in a grimace and Obi-Wan held him together.

And for once…for once Obi-Wan could feel the full power of the Dark.

And found that it was strong.

And as Maul clung to it and fed it into his body, as he watched, the blood that had been seeping from his wound ceased, not so much knitting as simply stopping.

And Obi-Wan stared into those eyes and found himself grinning, “Yes! Yes, rage! Live! Live, Maul! Live!”

And when they finally ran in with the floatbed, when the nurses finally took over… Obi-Wan could take a few steps back with his bloodstained hands…

And know that Maul truly might be too angry to die.

Time itself would tell.

But Obi-Wan had hope.

Maul had been within the bacta tank for a week.

During that week the Jedi had pieced together what had happened as well as dealt with their dead – which were luckily few, and had been mostly congregated within the crèche. Two Padawans, both of whom had been assisting within the crèche and had likely not thought a thing of Krell approaching until he had cut them down – and these were the loss felt the deepest. Then there had been a Jedi that had been overwhelmed, but the vast majority of the attack upon the Temple had been injuries.

Injuries that had not taken as long to heal as Maul’s.

Maul who had…

Tiq still found it difficult to believe, but he had seen the evidence of it, had heard Obi-Wan’s recounting of it as the man’s nightmares had grown in severity to the point that he had sought the Mind Healer for help. Tiq’s prescription had been what he himself was doing, sitting on a chair beside the tank and just watching the figure floating within the bacta. Taking in the fact that the lungs still breathed, the hearts still beat…

The difference was…soon it would be time to take Maul out.

Tiq had been brought to help settle Maul’s mind, to help give him something to hold onto that would be solid, that he knew.

Eeth and Agen had also helped, their bonds with Maul used to soothe him within the bacta itself, letting him know that he was safe, that he was healing…

The bond had been what had led to Agen’s injury – glancing, luckily, and not life-threatening, but the feeling of Maul fading out had been such a shock that Agen had not been able to dodge in time. He had been the one that had ran with the healers, had gone to find him. Eeth had remained to help shut down the remaining droids.

They had been stripped and refurbished, examined for tampering that had been found…

And as they had found Krell, as Obi-Wan had told them that he was the one…

They had investigated the Besalisk’s quarters and found a piece of the wreckage from the ship Plo had shot down.

A piece that had still stunk of the Dark in a way that had only been overwhelmed by the fact that Krell’s quarters were one of the few that had been so far down, closer to the Nexus, closer to the Light.

But it had not been enough. Not enough to keep Krell within the Light, to keep him from drifting…

Cin had been suspicious of course, all the guards had been, but the use of the droids had thrown all of them, turning their attention from the watching of Krell into a sudden attempt to save them all.

This had been something that Krell had been working on for a very long time, something that Maul had only recently been picking up on as he was let out of the collar.

And Tiq had never been happier about the fate of a collar.

Finding that hideous object shattered into a million sparking pieces had been one of the highlights, and Tiq had laughed, delight in his soul at the sight of it.

Maul had proven his ability to get out of it, and his trustworthiness in the same instant with that collar, with the sight of it broken on the ground, even as he allowed it to cage him… Though Maul had solidified it with the saving of their younglings.

So much that could have gone so wrong had been averted and it was all due to the Sith in their midst.

A Sith that had almost died.

A Sith that would likely carry the scar with him.

Maul’s wound had cauterized before it was torn apart, a hurt that the bacta sometimes had trouble with – and this was one of those times.

There was a scar that ran from one side of Maul’s torso to the other, a nasty thick thing that would fade with time, but would nonetheless remain, a gash of blood-red, piercing through the lines of black. The fact that it was a scar that would be able to fade was a fact that Tiq was glad for.

Maul would live.

And as the thought hit him, Healer Che approached, her focus on the being within the bacta. She looked him over one last time visually, before turning her attention to the scans.

“He is ready,” she said, and called for the nurses. Together they were able to get Maul out of the bacta and dressed in a light tunic and pants, placing him upon a bed where he would be brought out of the sedatives slowly.

Tiq placed himself by Maul’s head, and at Healer Che’s indication took one of Maul’s hands in his.

As Maul woke that hand began to grip, and finally, hazily…golden eyes opened.

Maul blinked, staring up at the ceiling, and then the hand gripping his tensed, Tiq hurriedly reaching out a hand to press against Maul’s chest before he could finish sitting up. Maul’s gaze snapped to his, sparking with yellow, before just as suddenly draining.

“Hello, Maul,” Tiq said, smiling.

Maul stared at him for a moment, and then finally started to smile back. “Hello.”

“It has been one week,” Tiq said, “and Healer Che has treated you. You have just been removed from a bacta tank.”

“Yes,” Maul said roughly, looking to it, “Eeth told me, he…he said I needed to rest and not…and not swing at anything. That shattering the tank would hurt me.”

“He was right,” Healer Che said, and her brows were rising. Maul looked up at her and just as suddenly winced.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“About what?” Healer Che asked, “if it’s about using your own intestines to strangle a man, then luckily you don’t have to apologize for much – it was intact and both sides of it were attached where they needed to be, your use of the Force to run through your intestine and keep it whole was remarkably strong, though I do not recommend ever doing that again and you will have to keep to a strict diet for…”

“No,” Maul said. “For…for leaving so quickly the last time, for…”

Healer Che blinked, before she smiled, and it was gentle, “Maul,” she said, “I let that go ages ago… You were in the middle of a dissociative episode; I took no offense then and I take no offense now. You are alright. You are more than alright, you are healed, and you are safe.”

“The younglings, are…?”

“They are also safe,” Tiq said, “they’re all safe. Krell could not get to them, and they had run to the farthest corner of the crèche. They saw and heard none of what happened.”

Maul slowly but visibly relaxed.

“Good,” he said softly, “I told them to run, I had…I had hoped…” he paused. “Why?” he asked softly, “why did Krell…why did he?”

“We are likely to never know the full reason,” Tiq said softly, “but I can tell you that we found a piece of your Master’s ship within Krell’s room, hidden in plain sight as it were, and found a compartment where he had hidden it before. We believe…that he had been communing with it. Over time it corrupted him…” Tiq sighed. “I don’t know why he had it, or what made him decide to take it, but I do know that such items are…dangerous for Jedi. Particularly if they are not prepared for it, and I do not…I do not think that Krell was prepared. That ship was so Dark that it still burned with it, even…gracious, Maul, about a year after it was destroyed.”

“Then…” Maul licked his lips, “he did not…he did not directly talk to my Master?”

“No,” Tiq said, and his hand tightened its grip around Maul’s own. “No, there was no direct communication that we could find. No evidence that he was talking to anyone outside of these walls. You are safe. Your Master is dead…and so is Krell.”

Maul took that in for a moment and then visibly relaxed, leaning back against the pillow, swallowing. “He spoke about attacking the Heart of the Jedi,” he said softly. “Of giving that Heart to my Master…”

“Well…there was no one for him to give something to, that we can find,” Healer Che said.

“If you feel any Dark then we will of course look closer,” Tiq said, and smiled, “now that your collar is destroyed…”

“I am sorry,” Maul managed, staring at him with wide eyes, “I had not meant to…he had placed it around my neck, and I could not escape, he…he chained me in my room, and with my room, and I was so… I burned, my Wodza burned, and I knew the collar…I had held it without it binding me, had learned it and I just… I…ripped it and it…”

“Hush,” Tiq said softly, “frankly I have never been happier about anything. I am very pleased that you knew it, Maul, I am very pleased that you were able to finally break it on your own. You could have done it at any time once you grew familiar with it, Maul,” Tiq smiled, “and you chose not to. You chose to be someone that we could trust, and we do trust you.”

Maul took that in for a moment, staring at him, and then at Healer Che, who was smiling at him softly, and swallowed.

“Thank you,” Maul breathed.

“No, Maul,” Tiq said, “thank you,” and the smile he gave was warm, though it slowly turned lopsided, and he picked something up. “Speaking of trusting you,” he said softly, “I am sorry it took me so long, but…” Tiq held out…

“My…” Maul reached out, taking hold of a grip that he had spent so much time creating, a long cylindrical staff that Maul had poured over for years and years and years. He held it in his hands…And found that it was wrong.Maul held the artificial Kybers and felt the anger, the hate, the fear…of someone that he no longer was. And as strange as it was, for as much as Maul would not have believed it…it was because his own was not less…it was deeper. But even as he realized this, he came to realize something else… Maul…felt fuller, warmer, so much more than the emotions that had been poured within the Kybers, so much…Maul knew more than hate. Maul knew more than anger…Maul knew more than fear.And all of that, all of what he had missed, all of what he had not understood, but could now touch, could now fleetingly grasp… All of that was missing.Maul was…tempered.Maul was whole.Maul held the ghost of a boy that was, and brought him slowly to his chest.The pain that he felt…the edge of something deep in his hearts, that swelled up from within…“It’s alright, Maul,” Tiq breathed softly, “it’s alright to grieve.”And as Tiq gave it its name, as Tiq told him what it was… Maul felt the tears rising to his eyes…And slowly let them fall.

Maul had spent the last two nights within Healer Che’s mercies, and it had been…

Maul did not know.

Maul still…sometimes Maul could not understand.

But for whatever reason he knew…he knew that there were people that were always with him. Beings that had taken the time out of their schedules and their days to keep him company, and even now…

Even now as the darkness spread and night rose to claim all of them… Maul was surrounded by beings.

Eeth and Agen were to his left, both of them sitting in chairs, leaning up against each other, and fast asleep. Each of them had a singular hand placed upon the bed where Maul was sleeping, close enough that if he wished he could reach his arm out just slightly and feel the brush of their fingers on his skin.

Tiq was to his right, working his way through a datapad, speaking to Plo that was near him, both of them with a hand within easy reach.

At his feet sat Anakin and Ahsoka, the two younglings lying smushed together and sleeping, and they had reached out, both of them gripping at socked feet that Maul sometimes still was so grateful that he had.

And then there was Obi-Wan, who had taken Maul’s shoulders in his arms when he had first seen him sitting within his bed, stared him firmly in the eye and told him that he must never do that again.

Maul had told him he made no promises, but the hug that he was pulled into – gentle enough to not aggravate his wound which was still tender – was warm and solid. Maul had eventually held him back, too…too surprised, too amazed…

Qui-Gon had also visited, and that was the first time that Maul had seen Anakin, who had leapt upon the bed and very nearly planted his knee into Maul’s stomach. It had taken a bit of careful catching with the Force and gentle lowering and scolding for Anakin to calm enough to simply hug him. He promised that there would be no Liquor of the Sands brought, and Maul had laughed.

But even as he laughed he had been baffled as all of these people…all of these people…

Yaddle had come with Ahsoka, and she had taken his hand before going off to sit with Yoda, who was also sitting there. And Mace and…and so many…

So many.

Maul had people that surrounded him.

Maul was not alone.

For the first time within Maul’s life, for the first time since his Master had stolen him from the place of his birth… Maul not only understood what that meant, he understood that this was something that he had longed for. Maul understood that he was surrounded by people that had cared for him. Maul was surrounded by people that had worked to help him and had finally…finally succeeded.

They were not Meltch Krakko with his Beskar and his soft words and his ability to take Maul’s shoulder in his hand and make Maul feel as though he was the most important thing within Krakko’s world…

They were not Kilindi that had shown him to swim, had shown him to live, and shown him that it was possible to kill your Masters…

But they were there.

They were there, and they were good…

And Maul was not alone.

dedicated to @hannagoldworthy @monsterfolkandfiction @brambleclaw33 @jgvfhl @greenreticule and to the other people that have stuck with me for so long. you made it worth posting even when it was hard. may this ending find you well - and perhaps we'll meet in the next one.

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prof-zimbrane · 5 years

Text

The Face of Love

Summary: They’ve done almost all the dating cliches in existence, they’ve been in an established relationship for a while now but there are still secrets between them. Secrets pertaining to a certain someone’s true appearance. Zim loves Professor Membrane and he’s sure that the feelings are mutual but should he risk it?

Word Count: 7443

AO3 link

Yo, here’s a Zimbrane fic for the upcoming Halloween. It’s got body horror?? I guess so read with caution. It’s nothing too bad. Believe me, I bet it’s something you won’t expect ;)

It’s my first fanfic?? ever I guess so please be gentle and if possible, give me feedback on how I can improve cuz I love this pairing and I wanna write more for them ;-;

Zim’s current love-slave has everything Zim ever wants in a partner. Professor Membrane is brilliant, tall, good with weapons, and has caused Dib more anguish and doubt than Zim could ever cause.

Zim knows and has seen what Professor Membrane can accomplish. Combined, they’d be the greatest gift to the universe in all its existence. But there is this… oddity to their relationship.

Most couples would’ve already known how the other really looked like, appearance wise (actual personalities are sometimes never revealed), at their current stage. Yet somehow, Zim has never seen his partner’s face.

Sure Zim hides his appearance, but unlike Professor Membrane, Zim is pretty sure he has a lot more to lose, given his “foreign” heritage and occupation as an invader and all.

But Professor Membrane must be human, right? Whatever horrible thing he’s hiding under his lab coat and goggles couldn’t be the worst Zim has ever seen. Zim isn’t superficial enough to stop loving someone based on their appearance, height notwithstanding, hell humans are already ugly enough to Zim yet he still decided to pursue the scientist.

Maybe Professor Membrane was scarred or disfigured? Or maybe he’s so horrifyingly ugly according to “human” standards that he has to hide it. Dib does have a rather large head after all and Gretchen’s the only one Zim knows (has been told) that seems to like Dib.

There’s nothing wrong with asking things from your partner. In fact, it would only be fair for Zim’s burning curiosity to be satisfied. If Zim wants to find out how Professor Membrane looks like, then he will find it out. He is Zim, nothing is out of the question. But is he ready for it?

He could leave things as they are and continue like normal, or he could confront Professor Membrane and find out what’s hidden underneath. But would it be too soon? They’ve done all sorts of couply things together already, according to Zim’s “dating humans” guide list he devised when learning about human affection that one dreadful time with Tiq? Taco? T something, he still misses his robot bee, Robbee never even completed his first mission, but that’s irrelevant now.

They’ve gone to an expensive eating establishment (Zim paid with Earth monies but those monies were outdated cents and quarters), they’ve watched the sun set and looked at the stars (one of Zim’s favourite moments), they’ve watched horror movies in the cinema (they were more horrified by the actions of the teens surrounding them though), and they even did a “Netflix & Chilli” (Zim still believes that the alien Jim is a loser for losing his leaders to a space anomaly).

They’ve even passed through several stages of physical affection. It started out with staring, then casual pats, they’ve even skipped straight to hugging before hand holding. They haven’t begun eating each other’s faces yet but Zim still finds it repulsive and another factor in the brutishness of stinky human courtship rituals.

Today was one of their date nights. Their plans only included dinner at Zim’s base. Though, Zim hopes that Professor Membrane will acknowledge his amazement at Zim’s awesome cooking skills and be willing to show his face once and for all.

---------------------

Dinner went off splendidly. Although the turkey had an unfortunate extra ingredient added to it, in the form of a dysfunctional, hyperactive robot. Professor Membrane thankfully thought of it as a pleasant surprise, meant to showcase Zim’s brilliance.

But now comes the hard part. Zim has to convince the Professor to stay for a while longer. He can do this.

Zim mustered up all his courage and held Professor Membrane’s hand as he was about to say his goodbyes.

“Wait! Stay a bit longer! I still have much to do with you!” Zim looks desperately into Professor Membrane’s shiny goggles, he HAS to find out what was underneath or else he’ll be restless for the entirety of their relationship, which would definitely affect his plans.

“What? We didn’t plan anything else for tonight though. Dib and Gaz should be fine but this is rather sudden.” Professor Membrane looks at their clasped hands and Zim’s hopeful expression.

“What is it that you want exactly? Are we going to your lab again?” He questioned.

He’s been helping Zim out with his inventions, spending a lot of hours just tinkering together in harmony. Science has always been a delight to do but with Zim, it feels like he’s experiencing it for the first time ever. He’s regained some of his wonder and childish curiosity with Zim’s input and feedback.

Anxiety was visible through Zim’s body language. He was hunched over, his eyes hurriedly shifting from left to right and back. He exhaled.

“I want to progress our relationship to the next stage,” Zim admits, “it’s just that, all we’ve done so far is hold hands and cuddle. Not that I hate it! If you ever stop then I will go to your house at night and replace your roboarms with bamboo skewers!”

Zim lets go to cross his arms and glare.

“Well, it is true that we’ve been taking it slow. I could say that part of it is my fault for being unfamiliar with this... relationship thing.” Professor Membrane muses. Is Zim dissatisfied with what they currently have?

“I’m sorry Zim, am I going too slowly for you?” he asked.

“No not at all! You satisfy me plenty. I admit that I’m also new to what we’re doing right now.” Zim quickly denied.

Professor Membrane feels relief. As a scientist, he can deal with all sorts of fields but relationships were harder to understand.

“That’s good, I treasure you and our love together. I don’t usually get to have a lab partner who’s not an employee of mine.” He confesses. He’s grown too attached.

“Great! As for the reason I am keeping you here for,” Zim paused.

He was in the right to ask for things. He shouldn’t feel worried.

“I’m demanding that you show your face to me.” Zim said resolutely. He looked expectedly at his human.

Professor Membrane felt panic. He should’ve expected it. He didn’t think it would be now though.

“My face? There’s nothing to see! It looks quite boring underneath.” He tried to play it off.

Zim looks dejected and hurt. Professor Membrane ignored him, that hurt.

“But I don’t even know what you look like. I don’t know the colour of your eyes or the shape of your face or even if you have weird lips. How can I be sure that you’re not a new person every time we meet? Are you even the original Membrane that I confessed to? You’re not another weird clone right?” Zim accused. Starting a chain of repeated lines.

“I’m not…” Professor Membrane answered.

“Are you?”

“I’m not…”

“Are you?!”

“I’m not...”

“Are you?!!”

He had enough. While he may love Zim, he doesn’t enjoy this continuous back and forth, even if it is somewhat cute.

“ZIM!” he shouted, “I swear by my 24 degrees that I’m not a clone. I’m the only original Professor Membrane in this reality.”

“Then why are you hiding your face from me? Don’t worry! I don’t mind if you look hideous. Just show me your trust.” He tried to look harmless but inside, Zim is worried that he’s asking for too much. Something is telling him to trust Professor Membrane in return.

Professor Membrane remained silent for a while. He’s debating internally over whether he should show Zim his face.

But eventually he relented to Zim’s request.

“Alright, I’ll show you but do you have somewhere else where we could do this? Your kitchen-lavatory room is not what I have in mind for sharing personal secrets”

They looked around. Gir, still in the turkey, was taking care of his many pig friends. The camera Dib installed is still visibly there, recording their conversation. Zim should remind the Computer to disable it or have it record a non-stop footage of Floopsy Bloops Schmoopsy.

“Urghh, I guess it’s fine.” Zim groans out. “Join me in my basement.”

He leads Professor Membrane by the hands through a closet that goes underground. It was different from the other places of Zim’s underground level. Here is where he kept his more Earth friendly technology.

It looks somewhat similar to Professor Membrane’s own lab in his basement, except with what appears to be a waiting area, with a sofa, a soda vending machine and a receptionist desk. But the only life there were bundled in the cobwebs of the receptionist’s chair. The receptionist is apparently out for smoke break.

They settled on the comfortable purple sofa. Anticipation was in the air.

“Well? Show Zim the goods!” Zim holds out his arms in a ‘gimme’ gesture. He can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.

Professor Membrane takes off his goggles first to reveal his eyes. His fingers then undid the upper half of his lab coat to reveal the bottom half of his face. Underneath his lab coat he wore a tight, black turtle neck.

It’s not what Zim expected. He was shocked. His previous expectations were crushed like humans should be underneath his boot.

There’s nothing wrong. Professor Membrane’s face looks like any other humans. If Zim were human, he’d even consider Professor Membrane’s face to be ridiculously good-looking, even by celebrity standards. But Zim wasn’t a human so, to him Professor Membrane’s face was as ugly as all the rest of the human species.

Even Professor Membrane’s eyes are nothing extraordinary, except for the glowing blue light that the irises emit and the pupils that expanded and contracted like camera shutters.

Zim actually found himself feeling slightly disappointment, since there was nothing special to look at.

“Is that all you have hidden there? Why even bother wearing your coat and goggles so conservatively?” Zim says annoyingly.

“That’s just my fashion sense.” Professor Membrane says chipperly.

He laughed disconcertingly, a drawn out “Ha ha ha,” as if he were watching a comedian embarrass himself instead of delivering actual jokes.

He’s trying to placate Zim. Professor Membrane was acting strange. His lips seem to be delayed by a couple of nanoseconds when he speaks. If it weren’t for the many modifications Irkens had to endure, Zim never would have noticed.

“Your eyes are different though. They’re not brown like the eyes of the Dib-beast or the little Gaz-monster.” Zim is judging Professor Membrane.

Zim’s nicknames for his kids were odd but somehow, they sounded charming to the Professor.

“I had them replaced when my vision was failing, you know how humans are with all the limitations of biology.” He hand waved his difference away. Zim is still not satisfied.

“Let me see them closer.”

Zim leaned on Professor Membrane. He’s holding Professor Membrane’s face in his palms as he stared deep into his human’s eyes. Zim always thought that human eyes were freaky, with their milky white sclera. But Professor Membrane’s eyes were pretty. He had long lashes and the electric blue glow they emitted reminded Zim of Tallest Miyuki’s calm gaze that captivated the hearts of her people.

Zim observed the rest of his face, Professor Membrane’s nose looked regal and fit him perfectly. Zim also notes that his features were perfectly symmetrical, another contributing factor in human attractiveness, although this time it also extended to Irken beauty standards. Finally, there was something both races had in common.

Before he realized it, his gaze then went down to the scientist’s lips. They looked soft and had a perfect curve to them. But they were pressed tight, stiff and unmoving.

He was removed out of his stupor when Professor Membrane uttered a word, Zim’s name, from his perfectly shaped lips. Such perfection was otherworldly, it shouldn’t exist. There weren’t any blemishes or other hideous imperfections on his skin either.

“Zim? Zim! While I do find your attention flattering, don’t you think you’re too close?” Professor Membrane said in a hitched voice.

Professor Membrane’s eyes revealed his current emotions more than the rest of his face. Despite the nervous tone, his face remained stoic, his wide-blown, erratic pupils betrayed him instead.

Zim hadn’t realized, but he’s moved so close that he was kneeling on top of Professor Membrane. They’ve cuddled before, it’s true, but never this close, and never face-to-face with Professor Membrane’s exposed, hypnotic eyes.

It was the first time Zim didn’t feel revulsion at seeing a human. His past self would’ve spitted at him and called him a filthy xenophile for feeling whatever this is. But Zim putting himself before his empire was nothing new, although it still hurt him to acknowledge it.

“You’re actually not too hideous. I am pleased.” Zim tried to sound dismissive, but it’s clear that he is affected by his lover’s appearance.

“I’m glad my face pleases you then, my celestial lover.” Professor Membrane said warmly.

His expression was light. A smile graced his lips. That made something flutter in Zim’s innards.

But he began feeling another rare feeling, guilt. What is it with all these feelings now?? Zim is too great to be bothered by that. Yet, should he reveal his actual face? Would he be dissected or worse vivisected if he did? He doesn’t want to live out the rest of his life stuck in a tube. His partner was related to Dib after all and his passion for science is, at times, obsessive.

Zim was distracted from his worries by a sudden pressure on his lips. They were soft. His love was kissing him. That was Zim’s first kiss. Not just Zim’s first kiss on the lips but first kiss in general, and it had to be lip-to-lip.

Before he could respond to Professor Membrane’s actions, the Professor drew back with a sheepish expression.

“I’m sorry Zim, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that.” He mumbled.

Professor Membrane’s arms, which were previously stuck to his side, lifted to caress Zim’s head.

“I couldn’t help myself, you’re really cute Zim. Was it too soon?” He asked.

“No it’s fine. I liked it. I liked it a lot.” Zim felt dizzy. He was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but it was the truth.

“There won’t be any cannibalism though right?” asked Zim. Worry appeared on his face again but more exaggerated than before.

“What if there was, what if I admit that I want to eat you up?” Professor Membrane said teasingly. He’s amused by his love’s thinking.

“If anyone does the eating it would be Zim!” he exclaimed. “My love-pig is no match for my razor sharp teeth.”

Zim shows off his pink, zipper teeth. Another odd thing about Zim that captivates the curious mind of the Professor.

“Perhaps, we should test it out with a little experiment?” Professor Membrane’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“What kind of experiment?” Zim questioned.

“An experiment where we find out who’ll consume the other first.” He challenged Zim.

“It will definitely be me.” Zim grinned, showing off his teeth again.

This time, it was Zim who acted first. He pressed his lips tight against his human’s. Zim’s antenna tingled underneath his wig, if he hadn’t stuck it tightly with adhesives before, they would’ve sprung free from their confinement, he’s learnt his lessons during Earth’s many challenges.

Professor Membrane held Zim tighter towards his body. As if he never wants to let go, as if he’s afraid of losing Zim.

Zim’s hands were still occupied with exploring every inch of Professor Membrane’s face. He wants to burn his love's features into his hands, forever imprinting their impressions into his memory.

But, during Zim’s explorations, he began noticing a long depression near the outer reaches of Professor Membrane’s face. It wouldn’t have been noticeable, if Zim hadn’t been an Irken. Irkens had really sensitive skin, that’s why they cover themselves up so much.

He paused his kissing to get a better feel for Professor Membrane’s face. The depression circled the outer cheeks, over the eyebrows and seemingly ended between Professor Membrane’s upper and lower lip on both sides.

“My love? What are you doing?” Professor Membrane stuttered out. Yet, Zim’s previous observations about the stoicism of his features seemed sprung out more than ever.

“There is something you’re keeping from me. I can sense it beneath my fingers!” Zim accused Professor Membrane.

He stood up from his previous position to pace around the room, never taking his eyes of his lover. Zim moved like an interrogator in a prison. He won’t stand any lies.

If Professor Membrane could emote more, he’d have despair written all over his face. His right hand began covering the bottom part of face, in a nervous gesture.

“Zim, my love, there’s nothing wrong. Come back to my arms. Whatever you felt must have been due to your unfamiliarity with my face.”

Still seated, he leans towards Zim with his arms spread out.

“Oh no! Don’t lie to me! I know what I’ve felt, I’ve seen how you move your lips. Why don’t you trust me?!” Zim recoils.

Zim’s never trusted anyone before but he expects trust from them. Zim has always believed himself to be a genuine person, sans his human disguise, and to have his character or actions questioned really pissed him off.

“You’re right Zim,” he relented “I am hiding something. I’ve only shown this to a few of the people I know, and it’s always ended in them disappearing. Not even Gaz or Dib have seen me without this.”

There’s something chilling about the way Professor Membrane says it. It was like Zim stepped on an old landmine, waiting to see if it’ll end in a disaster or not. He’s not sure about what Professor Membrane meant by disappearing but he doesn’t want to question it. As a part of the Irken Elite and as an Irken soldier, he can face anything.

“Don’t worry, whatever secrets you hold won’t be enough to scare me away. I love you, I’ve never loved anyone before.” Zim’s voice was soft, remarkably different from his usual screeching.

How many times has he said those words? Aside from his first sentence towards the only parental unit Zim ever knew, he’s only said it to Professor Membrane.

Again, Zim is doing something uncharacteristic. Was he trying to ease Professor Membrane’s discomfort with this entire thing? Trying to convince himself to be brave? Or was it just love that made Zim say that. Could a human really make Zim question himself that way? What kind of person is Professor Membrane to hold this much power over Zim’s heart.

“Please, don’t look away.” Professor Membrane pleaded.

He walked towards Zim, the height difference more noticeable now that they’re standing in front of each other. But that difference disappeared though, when Professor Membrane kneeled in front of Zim.

It was like one of those Earth movies that Zim watches, where one of the members of a couple kneel down to ask for a union. But instead of reaching into a pocket for a small rock, Professor Membrane reached for the sides of his face.

Slowly, he revealed what’s hidden underneath. Zim was right. Professor Membrane was disfigured. What he didn’t expect was the severity of the disfigurement.

In all of Zim’s time on Earth, with his countless research on human biology, he’s never sliced off anyone’s face. But even then, it wouldn’t have looked like Professor Membrane’s current features. His face was a prosthetic.

He has no face, no barrier protecting his passageways from the outside world. The only remaining parts of Professor Membrane’s face were his lower jaw, his temples, and his eyes.

Looking closer, Zim could see that the glow of his eyes was concentrated on the front part, the only part that is visible with Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic. The other half was encased in metal, connected to his organic parts with wires.

It was fascinating actually, seeing the mucosal tissues of a human. There was so much pink, pink like the lifeblood that flows through every Irken’s veins. His tongue was resting on top of his lower jaw, it was weird seeing it disappear as it nears the throat, going down the oesophagus.

Zim could also see a marriage between the organic and mechanic, as metallic parts are there to support and cover some of the exposed meat. Where there should be the nasal passage, was an artificial tube.

The edges featured tiny magnets, probably to hold Professor Membrane’s faceplate. Zim has seen much in his lifetime. He’s seen how cybernetics could replace almost anything but it was always visible if something is unnatural. Yet, Professor Membrane’s face, or at least his prosthetic, was good enough to fool Zim.

It was better than a hologram, that only mimics and changes appearances visually. It was something turned physical. Zim should feel disgusted, but instead he was more amazing than Zim could ever imagine.

The Professor’s technology was even more intertwined with his biology than Irken technology is with Irken bodies. While almost everything is genetically enhanced or modified, the mechanical aspect of Irken’s only constitutes their Pak, which is located outside of their bodies, attached to their spine.

“Love, speak. Do I scare you?” When he talked, his voice projected out from his throat. He had a voice box implanted. His tongue and lower jaw aren’t enough to make the appropriate vocalizations.

It was at that moment that Professor Membrane tried to cover up his gruesome anatomy with his faceplate but Zim stopped him. Before he could attach his face back on, Zim snatched his prosthetic.

Zim says in a low tone, or as low as he could try, he still sounds loud.

“No, you don’t scare me. Your current appearance doesn’t even disgust me. Instead, you intrigue me. I’ve never seen a human like you before.”

“In fact! Everyone else is disgusting compared to you.” He said louder, almost giddy-like.

“You’re brilliant! A genius worthy of Zim even! You merge technology so wonderfully, I want to see more!” There was audible excitement when Zim spoke.

“Zim, you don’t have to attack me with compliments. Is that really what you think?” Professor Membrane whispers, it’s hard to talk without his prosthetic. He uses a voice box but the movement of his artificial lip over his real lip was enough to make him believe that he is producing sound the natural way. It hurts.

Zim is studying the face prosthetic Professor Membrane designed. It was animatronic. The movement was controlled with nanotubes and circuitry connecting to small motors. If Zim wasn’t concerned about offending Professor Membrane, he’d rush to his underground labs to study it.

He feels a surge of affection, this is his human, no one else’s but Zim’s. Even other aliens don’t compare to his partner. Some were even too stupid to be alive, but somehow they live.

“Don’t be foolish, foolishness doesn’t suit you. You know that I adore you.” Never has Zim uttered something so soft before.

“I love you for your mind,” he kisses his lover’s forehead, “your strength,” he kisses his lover’s robo arms, “your height,” he kisses the hair scythe, “and everything else about you.” he leaves a big kiss on Professor Membrane’s prosthetic and Professor Membrane’s lower jaw.

Professor Membrane was stunned, his lower jaw dropped down and his electronic eyes emitted an even brighter glow. Zim hands Professor Membrane the prosthetic.

“Now cover up your holes before the germs invade you. I will not be having my lover be sick due to some pathetic Earth virus.” Zim looks at his lover. If he could, he would kiss the Professor’s soul, so only Zim would remain in the scientist’s heart.

Professor Membrane, places his face plate on with a ‘click.’ He lifts Zim up in his arms as he stands from his kneeling position. Zim shrieked as his feet lost contact with the ground.

“I was right to love you, Zim!” The Professor was gleeful.

“You’d be stupid if you rejected me.” Zim’s smugness at being loved reached an all-time high.

Professor Membrane twirled Zim above his head and hugged him close.

“You remember how I said that I never showed this to my children?” Professor Membrane hummed into Zim’s wig.

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell them.” The Professor begged. His request surprised Zim.

“The Dib really doesn’t know? Wonderful! You have nothing to fear! I’ll keep your secret. You must really love Zim then!” Zim laughed maniacally.

Zim was so euphoric, his legs were moving back and forth.

“I’m glad I showed this side of mine to you. I like to imagine that, if I had an actual face, it would look similar to my prosthetic.” The current richest inventor and researcher on Earth sounded defeated.

The feeling returned. The feeling called guilt. Here he is, in the arms of his lover. His lover who doesn’t even know that Zim is from an entirely different race, sent to conquer his beloved Earth. It was a heavy feeling.

Is Zim actually empathizing with this human? He feels wrong, dirty, for taking advantage of someone like Professor Membrane. It was like he was spitting at the Professor’s intelligence.

There is no turning back from this relationship. At least, no way of turning back on his love. If Zim were to break things off, or just disappear, he’d end up with a broken heart. He still doesn’t know why it would hurt but just the thought makes his squeedilyspooch twist in angst.

He wants to continue whatever this is. He wants to feel light, feel acknowledged, feel loved. But if this really were mutual, then Zim would have to reveal his Irken self and be exposed as the enemy he is.

The Professor is still holding Zim up. He seemed content having Zim in his arms. Cuddling and nuzzling him. This is a comfort unmatched by any other.

Zim doesn’t want this to end, he’s ruined almost everything else good in his life. The Tallest haven’t contacted him in ages and the Massive and Irken fleets still remain missing. It’s lonely being the only Irken on Earth. Every other Irken is fleeing from the colonies they’ve conquered.

If Zim were to meet his demise, then he wouldn’t mind it being at the hands of his love, his equal. He breaks out of his lover’s grasp. He knows what to do.

“With all these secrets we’re sharing with each other, I believe that it is only fair for you to cast your eyes on my amazing self!” Zim acts confident, he can do confident, he can be cocky about his real looks. After all, he is handsome in all ways except height.

“Yes Zim, you are an amazing specimen.” The Professor looks at Zim fondly.

“You don’t get it! Focus more on my actual features. I know this disguise is amazing but you, as Zim’s equal should be able to tell where I differ from the rest!” Zim said angrily.

“Ok? Well, you have no visible nose or ears, you’re green and you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” His eyebrow lifted up in confusion as he spoke.

“Yes, yes I know my attractiveness is intimidating. But do you think I’m too attractive? Out of this world even?” Zim expects him to say the truth. The full truth. He’s not sure if he’s ready to be the one to confess things.

“You’re the only I know who looks like you.” Professor Membrane doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t you think it’s strange? The Dib always accuses me of being an alien.” Zim is stalling. He hopes that the Professor will find out on his own, so Zim wouldn’t have to admit it.

“I know my son is a handful, I’ll tell him to be more considerate of your skin condition.” The Professor said, exasperatingly, he doesn’t know what to do about his son.

If Professor Membrane thinks that that is what Zim is asking for then he really needs to join a reading the atmosphere class. Professor Membrane can be really blind at times.

“NO! The Dib-beast is right! I’m an alien! I’ve always been an alien. I come from the planet Irk. What you saw a few months earlier was real.” Zim said it. He can’t wait for Professor Membrane to find out his identity, it might take decades.

He takes off his contacts, his wig, and his goatee and threw them to the ground.

“I’m the alien you fought that day!” Zim points to himself.

“Look at my pink solid eyes, look at these antenna. Don’t you think I’m an alien?” He becomes more frustrated as he pointed out each strange thing about himself.

“Oh Zim, don’t worry about your appearance, I’ll always find you attractive. Your eyes are lovely by the way. You don’t have to call yourself an alien.” Professor Membrane still refuses to see what’s right in front of him.

Zim tugs off his gloves and boots.

“I have three fingers! I have two toes! Is it getting into your brain yet? I’m an alien.” Does the Professor want Zim to degrade himself further? Should he perform a little song and dance to the tune of the Irken Empires anthem?

“Those things could be congenital defects. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough with me to share your insecurities.” Professor Membrane’s attempts at being understanding are pathetic.

“Unless, you’re doing this because you hope to scare me off?” His voice takes on a worried tone, completely unwarranted in Zim’s opinion.

“You stupid, dumb, idiotic human!” Zim screams out.

Zim removes his shirt. He never intended to turn this into a sort of striptease, a term he learnt from a drunk guy who decided to ‘put on a show’ for more booze monies. Zim is glad that Gir dunked him in molten butter and popcorn because that display really disgusted him.

He drags the Professor down to have a seat on the floor and positions his Pak towards Professor Membrane. He also extends one of his spider legs. Hopefully, this will be enough to convince him of his extraterrestrial origins.

“Look at my Pak! Touch it with your robo hands! What you’re looking at is high quality Irken technology.” Zim is tired.

Professor Membrane is transfixed. He’s never seen something like this before. The Pak wasn’t stuck on superficially, it actually goes into Zim’s back. Studying it for a while, he realizes that it’s not made from materials found on Earth and it’s more advanced than anything he knows, something that shouldn’t be possible.

“I am a member of the Irken race. An intergalactic race who’s currently trying to take over the universe. I am an invader brought to Earth to take it over for Operation Doom II.

We modified ourselves biomechanically to be the ultimate species. The Pak you’re studying right now is where the entirety of Irken history and knowledge is contained. It is better than your human brains and computers. It holds my personality, my tools and my intelligence.” Zim explains.

“It holds all that information? You know the entire history of your race?” Asked an astonished Membrane.

“Several thousands of years of knowledge and more, regarding some other races and planets.” Zim didn’t think that Professor Membrane would focus on that, he thought he’d be held up on this conquering Earth thing he spewed out.

“Can you take up more information in your Pak?” The inquiries were calm, rational. As if Professor Membrane was doing a survey.

“Our Paks were designed to hold at least 1 billion years of storage.” That is a fact that still makes Zim proud of being an Irken, not many races can brag about having so much storage space.

In the scheme of things, 1 billion years is nothing compared to the expected lifespan of the universe, but it is more than enough for effervescent species like humans and Irkens.

Professor Membrane does the unexpected once again, he hugged Zim fiercely, ecstatically. Zim looked behind him, the stoicism of his prosthetic is nowhere to be found, an absurdly large grin was present on his face.

Was this a trap? His grin reminded Zim of the times Dib would smile before doing something horrible to Zim or before promising to do something horrible. That manic glint in Professor Membrane’s cyber eyes was heightened with the rapid closing and opening of his shutters, like a camera taking pictures.

Zim expected shock, Zim expected denial, Zim expected hatred or even understanding if things were more positive. But this elated expression on his lover’s face was something Zim did not expect. It was like he actually got the twelve cases of Uranium-38 from Santa on Christmas.

“Thank you Zim, I believe you. Without you I would’ve never had this chance.” Professor Membrane finally spoke out.

“What?” Zim asked.

“You’re amazing, Zim. Special. I’ll never regret meeting you.” The Professor was stroking his antenna in an overly possessive manner. This aggressive petting was something Professor Membrane never did. If Zim had any sensation on his one special, not defective, antenna, he’d be blushing from head to toe.

This really makes Zim wonder if Professor Membrane is planning to study his insides and dump him in a laboratory to be studied. But this time, Zim is prepared. He’ll face all sorts of tests, as long as he can stay by the Professor’s side.

This sort of devotion was only ever reserved for the Tallest though but they’re gone, possibly forever and the only leader Zim wants to have is Professor Membrane.

“Love-pig, I give you permission to use my body in whatever way you want.”

Zim accepted his fate, he willingly gives himself up for experimentation. He tries to break free from Professor Membrane’s vice grip to face him. It’s hard to have this discussion with his back against Professor Membrane’s chest.

The Professor paused his ministrations. Zim feels a sudden spike in Professor Membrane’s heartbeat and temperature.

“Zim, what do you think I’ll be doing with you?” The Professor is bashful. He doesn’t want any more misunderstandings between them.

“Aren’t you going to strap me on a table and use your various tools on me?” Zim was puzzled.

Professor Membrane still looks at Zim confusedly.

“I’ll let you cut me up but I’ll tell you where it’s safe to cut open because I still enjoy living and I expect to remain alive in your care until you can’t learn anything more from me. But don’t think it’ll be a short study! I am much more knowledgeable than you. I know more… knowledge!! than you. Things you humans can’t even begin to imagine!” He made his peace.

“Oh. NO! No Zim. I would never experiment on you like that!”

Professor Membrane’s outcry was unexpected.

“You’re more than anything I could ever dream of. You’re the answer to my loneliness.”

Was that it? Was Professor Membrane simply impressed with Zim’s true self? Was he in awe of Zim? The Professor might have reacted the same way if he met any other Irkens but it doesn’t matter to Zim. It is Zim Professor Membrane is reacting to, and not anyone else.

“Yup! Zim is the best! Too bad you’re a pitiful human and not a superior Irken.” Zim is back to his confident self.

“Let me apologize Zim. Please forgive me. I know you told me to trust you, but I haven’t been completely truthful.”

The Professor shrinks into himself, he’s ashamed.

Zim is more surprised. What else could Professor Membrane be hiding? Is it something on his body? While Zim was shirtless, gloveless and bootless, Professor Membrane still has his full coat on, only with the upper part undone. It’s not fair.

“I guess I should reveal my full self as well.”

He removes his face plate again, but instead of seeing the insides of a human head, there’s a hole. A black hole. Dark in colour. Not even his eyes remained.

Zim looks in. He sees everything and nothing, he sees the beginning and the end of humanity. He’s experiencing bliss but agony as well. There is so much information being downloaded in Zim’s Pak that it’s whirring frantically, trying to compile and organize everything. It was a sight he’s never seen before. He doesn’t even know what he’s looking at to be honest.

It’s addicting. He watches the smooth black void swirl with light splotches of what appears to be stars. There are nuclear fissions happening. It was like Professor Membrane contained a small galaxy on his face, with a black hole as its centre.

If Zim were sane he’d have lost his sanity but all he could feel is delight instead of horror. His scientific side is curious, he wants to know what, why, how it’s even possible.

Zim knows he should feel terrified. He’s dealing with something other, something inhuman. Professor Membrane is no ordinary being. He is like one of those Lovecraftian gods that humans make fiction of.

“Can I touch it?” He can’t call it a face, it held too much to be a face.

“Yes, but be careful,” Professor Membrane’s voice emitted from the void.

Zim briefly wonders what happened to the modifications Professor Membrane made. He hopes they’re not gone forever, it’s another part of his lover that Zim has learnt to cherish already.

Zim reaches for Professor Membrane’s actual ‘face,’ his hand gets sucked in. Terror filled Zim as he struggles. He’s afraid he’s being sucked in to be consumed by the void. Maybe Professor Membrane will consume him after all?

Before he can be pulled towards the centre of the hole, arms surround him and he is being held in place. Today is not the day Zim dies.

“Zim! I told you to be careful!” that voice appeared again. The voice of Zim’s daydreams and fantasies. Professor Membrane is still with him. Zim forgot for a moment.

“Hah! Don’t be silly my love! Nothing can beat the Almighty Zim!!!” He’s come down from whatever kept his mind in the clouds.

While being fastened by Professor Membrane, Zim decides to reach his arm out. Self-perseverance is a trait that Zim possesses but sometimes, he just wants to act out his impulses.

He feels something squishy and wet. Zim grabbed whatever that was. When he retracted his hand, he discovers that he’s holding onto a baby octopus. He puts it back in to grab something else. A teacup filled with hot tea. Typical. This time he doesn’t put his hand back in, giving the tea to Professor Membrane.

“What’s all that inside you?” Zim asks, he shrugs off the weirdness, it’s an ordinary Tuesday for him. A turbulent Tuesday but still a Tuesday.

“The combined knowledge of mankind.” It’s uncanny hearing Professor Membrane’s voice.

“What are you anyways?” If his lover isn’t a human, then Zim could gleefully continue their relationship without feeling too much guilt.

“I still like to consider myself as a human.” That dashes Zim’s hopes but considering Professor Membrane’s credentials, he’s still proud of being able to call himself Professor Membrane’s lover.

“But a human who’s been in existence as long as mankind has been. I don’t remember my origin, if I were to imagine myself as a child, it would be how I currently am, only smaller.” It was hard for Professor Membrane to admit that he’s forgotten important parts of himself.

“Irkens are only alive for a millennia of your human time.” It hurts Zim to realize this.

He always expected that he’d outlive his partner when the time comes but it might actually be the other way around. He doesn’t want to think more on it. He wants to move away from that topic.

“Is Professor your real name?” Zim has found out that Professor is a title, like Frylord or Invader or even Tallest is. So he was confused when looking at Professor Membrane’s documents to see that Professor is written as his first name.

“I’ve been called many things throughout my existence but the name that sticks out the most is Thoth.” Professor Membrane reflects back. That was something he can remember.

“Anyways, I want to discover more and your existence made me realize that mankind has restrained my full potential.” The Professor said.

Delight fills Zim. Is Professor Membrane willing to turn his back on humanity?

“With you telling me about your extraterrestrial origin, I was able to find proof of the existence of life in other worlds. The probability always existed but I never had any concrete evidence.

And the knowledge humans collected on space is so insufficient that they don’t really tell anything. Other information, like what Dib usually talks about, can be easily considered as hoaxes, quick to exit the minds of the populace.” He continued saying.

Every dismayed admittance of the inadequacy of humans and their discoveries makes Zim happier and happier.

“There are still many things to discover, that’s why I became a scientist, mankind’s knowledge is limited and information found can easily be lost forever.” Professor Membrane concluded his little speech.

Humans really are pitiful. Zim wished he could have landed on Earth ages ago, to forge a path for faster development. Hmm. Maybe he should consider doing it now, with Professor Membrane by his side.

“You’re not keeping anymore secrets from me are you?” To count, Zim has been shocked an entirety of three times in the span of this date. He checked the time with his Pak. Two and half hours have passed. This makes for a surprise every 50 minutes.

“No more secrets, my love.” Professor Membrane places his prosthetic back on his face. Zim sees the moment the void disappears and dissipates to turn back into the fleshy opening.

“We both showed our true faces to each other.” Zim said. His trust in the Professor is absolute. They’ll never have to hide themselves ever again in each other’s presence.

“We did. I’m glad we did. Thank you Zim.” The voice came out of Professor Membrane’s mouth, where voices are supposed to come out from.

Inspecting Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic, Zim acknowledges that he loves all of Professor Membrane’s faces. His kissable lips opened to say something. Zim wants to punch himself for thinking that way.

“You’re the only one to survive seeing my true self. Everyone else died from brain hemorrhaging or lost their minds to never recover.” He said nonchalantly.

“Good! Give Zim all the praise!” Zim takes any chance he can get to be praised. “And all the kisses!! Those were nice.” Professor Membrane delivers a quick peck on the lips.

“You deserve all the kisses from me,” Professor Membrane agrees, “I had a wonderful date.”

A realization hit Zim. Date night still didn’t end. And when date night continued after dinner, it usually meant that they would be spending time tinkering and working on one thing or another.

“Let’s work on making your prosthetic move smoother. I have just the right Irken tech to show you in my other working area. You’ll love it.

I modified it of course to make it less stupid but it should give you a fully functional ugly human face with feelings. It’ll hide your beautiful insides unfortunately but that’s living on Earth for people like us.” Zim rambled on, already thinking up of different things to do.

“Does it look anything like your disguise?” Professor Membrane loves Zim but a fake goatee, a wig and contacts don’t make for a good disguise, he confessed to himself.

Oh dear. Dib was right. Zim’s disguise was bad. Dib was also right about Zim being an alien. Professor Membrane promises to himself that he’ll believe his son more from now on.

“What? Unfortunately no! All the other disguises hid way too much of my handsomeness and it would be a disservice to everyone for me to hide it!”

Zim went on a tirade, “The Earth will be even more MORE sadder and uglier if I looked exactly like you humans. Gross. Be happy you get to see my full handsomeness in my true Irken self. There are many who don’t get the opportunity that you have.”

Zim gestures to himself. He’s still half-dressed. Professor Membrane hands Zim the rest of his outfit before things turn awkward. After dressing quickly, Zim once more is leading Professor Membrane by the hands into his labs, the cooler ones with all the alien tech.

‘Zim, never change, my lover from the stars.’ Professor Membrane thinks to himself fondly, as he is being led away. His various faces may not allow for much expression but he is smiling internally, full of love.

#zim #professor membrane #zimbrane #zapmr #pmazr #fanfic #mine #happy halloween folks!#i guess this could be considered my first serious-like attempt at fanfic #my regret is immeasurable

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sapphicrpc · 6 years

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can you think of some trans FC's? I always see Elliott Fletcher ( and that's great !! ) But I'd love to see some more out there, so I think I might just gif a bunch of trans FC's! Bonus points for POC's or plus-size!

you’re lucky i’ve never actually seen even elliott played kzxdbldj BUT i mean it depends what gender you want!

[ HERE ] is a masterlist of non binary fcs

transgender men

riley carter millington

alex bertie

skylar kergil

jeydon wale

benton sorensen

aydian dowling

benjamin melzer

kye allums

laith ashley

alec butler

cameron russo

ryan cassata

sam collins

avery vernon

ty turner

buck angel

chaz bono

jay kelly

tiq milan

kamari marchbanks

shane ortega

cayden carter

transgender women

jen richards

angela vanity

laverne cox

gigi gorgeous

alexandra billings

candis cayne

carmen carrera

jamie clayton

jamie ryan dee

hari nef

harmony santana

julie vu

isis king *i feel like i heard some problematic shit about her tho idk

mya taylor

tracey norman

stef sanjati

maria clara spinelli

kat blaque

trinity anne

nong poy

sabel gonzales

chrissy renaee

jazz jennings

angela vanity

this took me about half an hour but yes, here are TONNES of trans fcs, like a mini masterlist. bolded are poc!

#rph #rpt #rpc #transgender fc #trans fc #*mine #*masterlist #Anonymous

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thedhananjayaparkhe · 1 year

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DYK and TIQ

Did you know… … that today is American Circus Day? John Bill Ricketts organized the first American circus in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, on this date in 1793. Trivia buffs: In the US, there are currently about 300 exotic/wild animals circuses and about 18 non-animal circuses.~~~ Today’s Inspirational Quote: “Real beauty is not what the eyes can behold but what the heart can hold. What we see with…

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daily-klingon · 6 years

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The Sound rgh

The Klingon sound rgh occurs in a range of words, including the ones listed below. Most notable are the fact that rgh occurs frequently, but ghr does not. Also, most times rgh comes at the end of a word (with some exceptions where it is apparent that the rgh sound is an accident brought about by joining two words which end with r and begin with gh respectively).

Pronouncing rgh: You begin by pronouncing a rolling r at the front of your mouth, and then move the focus to the back of your mouth. It feels as if you are rolling a growl back along your tongue.

Examples (and there are plenty here)

bargh flat-bottomoed pot (n) baS laSvargh foundry (n) baS SIrgh wire (n) bergh be irritable (v) berghmoH irritate (v) bI'rel tlharghDuj B'rel-class Scout (n) borghel a very small bird whose eggs are considered quite tasty (n) burgh quD naturally-produced quD (n) burgh stomach (n) chargh conquer (v) charghwI' conqueror (n) chergh tolerate (v) chIrgh temple (structure) (n) chorgh eight (num) chorghDIch eighth (num) Dargh tea (n) Dargh HIvje' teacup (n) Dargh wIb sour tea (n) Denmargh Denmark (n) ghargh serpent, worm (n) ghorgh when? (question) Hargh fight, battle (v) Hergh medicine (n) Hergh qengbogh yo' medical relief convoy (n) Herghqoq wanI' placebo effect (n) Hergh QaywI’ hypo (n) HerghwI' hypo (n) Hurgh be dark (v) Hurgh pickle (n) largh detect odour, smell (v) letSeburgh Luxembourg (n) lurgh direction (spatial) (n) may'morgh battle array (n) morgh protest (v) morgh unit of area (27 square 'ujmey) (n) nargh appear (v) nargh escape (n) nuch Hergh aspirin (n) nuyorgh New York (n) paQDI'norgh teachings (n) pargh be synthetic, artificial (v) pItlhbergh Pittsburgh (US) (n) porgh body (n) porghQeD scientific study of bodily functions (n) qarghan Kargan (n) qorgh stop up, fill (a hole) (v) qorghwI' pacifier (n) qurgh bean(s) (n) quwargh Quark (proper n) Qargh fissure (n) Qorgh take care of, care for (v) rejmorgh worrywart (n) Sargh sark (n) SIrgh string, thread (v) Sorgh sabotage (v) Surgh skin (n) targh targ (n) targh tIq heart of targ (n) tlhorgh be pungent (v) tlhorghHa’ be bland (referring to food) (v) torgh Torg (n) tlhorgh be pungent (v) veqlargh devil, demon, Fek'lhr (n) vergh dock (n) vergh dock (v) vIychorgh juice (n) vorgh be previous (v) yergh geometric solid (n) yergho wall of a city (n) yorgh shelf, bookshelf, fixed or non-fixed (general term) (n) 'argh worsen (v) 'Irgh bully, harass (v) 'orghen Organia (n) 'orghengan Organian (n) 'urgh jab, poke (v) 'urghwI' poker (card game) (n)

#pronunciation

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nonedhudla · 6 years

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Eine Ode an den Underground oder wie war das mit dem „Früher…”, ach, abgedroschen, kurzum, gestern Abend bestieg ich gerade einmal 22 Uhr ograd meinen Drahtesel, trat die Pedale, sauste an all den dämlichen, was zum Henker telefonieren die nur ständig, Zweiradbummlern vorbei, die Gneisenau und Baerwald entlang, vor der Prinzen rechts ab, über den Kotti mit der bescheuertsten Ampelschaltung für Velos überhaupt hinweg, finaler Touri-Hindernisparcour an'er Oppelner, Zieleinfahrt.

Stippvisite am Späti umme Ecke, und schwupps, saß ich in der großen Stadt, die ich gelegentlich so verdamme wie ich sie mein Zuhause nenne, auf der Bank, im Hof beim Schlesischen Tor, neben einer Gesandtschaft unserer Gemeinde, Blick auf die Hochbahn, Berlin-Flair, 'n Spritzer russisch Wasser in die Ami-Limo, peu à peu betraten weitere in Unbunt gehüllte Gestalten das Gelände und nahmen ringsum Platz, ruhig, entspannt, geradezu pittoresk.

Nich' auf die Minute „true words:show starts at ten. don‘t be late, come on.”, 'nen Stempel gab's für bisserl sportliche „5 - 8“, gegen halb elf stiegen wir schließlich hinab, reihten uns um die Manege und spätere Tanzfläche, vis-à-vis eine mir, abgesehen von den virtuell verteilten Hörproben (und kostenfrei herunterladbaren Songs des Altbauwinter Labels), visuell unbekannte Combo, welche ich ziemlich genau vor einem Jahr schon einmal im Kalender stehen hatte, dieselbe Örtlichkeit, es damals jedoch nimmer geschafft hatte mich aufzuraffen.

Wenn die Band null Show liefere, könne er sich mit dem Gedudel genauso gut und in besserer Qualität aus der Konserve beschallen lassen, Worte eines chinesischen Noise-Künstlers, welche ich vorgestern beim Reinzappen auf Artes Tracks aufschnappte und unterschreibe.

Bekanntermaßen halte ich generell nüschts von vor Partys oder schlimmer, mittendrin, eingetakteten, in aller Regel öden, eintönigen, mitnichten inspirierenden Konzerten bzw. Pseudo-Liveacts, und diese narzisstischen, musikalisch bedingt talentierten Synth-Utz-Utz-Whatever-Tasten-drück-Regler-dreh-Playback-Kapellen dürfen mir nach wie vor gestohlen bleiben.

Samstag Nacht, frühlingshaft, angenehm draußen wie drinnen, Keller, die Gitarre umgeworfen, das Mikrofon in die Hand genommen, an der Workstation Position bezogen, die augenscheinlich aus einer Model-Kartei stammende Boygroup geht glatt als Schülerband durch, Präludium, und ab geht die Lutzi.

So viel dem Publikum entgegen geworfenes Herzblut, so viel versprühte Energie, und was'n genial simples Diversifikationsmodell, welche das bescheidene, sympathische, laute, hinreißende Trio glatt zum Nonet auffächert, außergewöhnlich, fantastisch, chapeau.

Exzellente Atmosphäre, dezentes Licht, Nebel, gut gefüllt ohne Gedränge, die FB-Zusagen non-expressiv, lässiges Volk, abseits des Mainstreams das Sterni und die Flasche Wasser ein Euro, zwei die große Club-Mate, super Crew, Klub-Subkultur eben, dafür gibbed lediglich eine einzige Toilettenschüssel.

Exkurs: Irgendwo muss es erwähnt werden, denn Sascha Disselkamp, Nico Hesslenberg und Jan Schröderden, welche den A#sch offensichtlich ozonlochflächig offen haben, benötigen Hilfe, weil für ein kleines Fläschchen Club-Mate im Clinic Basement 4,50 € zu verlangen, ähem.

Finito die Band, raus, Luft holen, ein Drink geht noch, wieder runter, wo bloody Ben ein paar Runden über's Parkett hampelte und krächzte, raus, rein, derweil geben die Laptops den Takt an.

Hahhhch, während es sich oftmals immer weniger lohnt um die Häuser zu ziehen, die gebotenen Veranstaltungen einem mehr und mehr Kompromissbereitschaft abverlangen oder, außer der Ceremonies, Dis/Tanz, FoR, RIP, TiQ und Trash Me, mehr mehr als minder längst das Zeitliche segneten, sind derlei Perlen rar gesät.

Ich meine, wenn das komplette DJ-Trio, statt wie dahinter festgetackert, vor dem DJ-Pult Ringel, Ringel, Reihe tanzt, kann die Stimmung unmöglich besser beschrieben werden, Musik querbeet, dunkel gemischt, einwandfrei. Zwei nach sechs war Zapfenstreich.

Summa summarum: Sterbenscult, klasse Band, möchte ich unbedingt mit ein paar mehr Songs und sehr gerne auf einer größeren Bühne wieder hören und sehen, Pleasure X plus Laika, tipptopp, danke für diese Nacht; Thema war Benzin in Berlin #5.

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micdotcom · 7 years

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Pride 2017 isn’t over yet — and our inbox is now open for Tumblr’s next Issue Time on transgender rights. Experts, advocates and journalists are here to answer your questions about the issues and struggles transgender people face and how we can work together to solve them.

According to the National Transgender Discrimination Survey, 78% of transgender/gender non-conforming students in grades K-12 said they’ve beed harassed, while 35% reported physical assault and 12% reported sexual violence.

According to the same survey, transgender respondents experienced unemployment at double the rate of the general population, while 26% lost a job due to being transgender.

20% of respondents also reported that they were evicted or denied housing simply for being transgender.

19% of respondents said that someone denied them medical services because of their gender identity.

From 2010 to 2016, at least 111 transgender and gender-nonconforming Americans were murdered because of their gender identity, 72% of them were black trans women and gender-nonconforming femmes, who identify as neither male nor female but present as feminine.

Anti-transgender legislation continues to sprout up nationwide.

We’ll be accepting questions until Wednesday, June 28 at 11 AM and publishing the responses here on Thursday and Friday, June 29 and 30.

Ask away!

Let’s meet the panelists:

Tiq Milan has been an advocate in the LGBT community for over a decade. He is also a writer and journalist who carved a niche for himself as a media advocate and one of the leading voices for transgender equality. He is a regular on-air contributor to Huff Post Live and various MSNBC news outlets and has penned articles for BET.com,Rolling Stone, The New York Times, The Source, Vibe and others on issues facing the LGBT movement. Tiq is the former editor-in-chief of IKONS magazine, an LGBT pop culture magazine, and has been a freelance pop culture journalist for several years, interviewing people from Jay-Z to Cicely Tyson. Recently married to Toronto based artist and educator Kim Katrin Milan, they together speak about creating love in queer communities of color and intersectional approaches to human rights activism in North America and abroad.

Alex Schmider received his Bachelors of Science degree in Psychology with a minor in Media & Communications from Tufts University in 2013. Prior to joining GLAAD’s team, he worked as the Communications Coordinator at the Los Angeles LGBT Center where he also participated in the Happy Hippie Foundation’s #InstaPride campaign and was featured in a Hallmark Mother’s Day ad, showing the love between a mom and her transgender son. Since joining GLAAD in 2016, Alex has worked with Tinder to launch its trans-inclusive app update, MTV on content for Transgender Awareness Week, and Teen Vogue on featured videos and articles. Schmider was selected as one of Forbes 30 Under 30 for Media in 2017, and the same year also received the Visibility Award from L.A. Pride. In his spare time, Alex volunteers as a camp counselor for Camp Aranu'tiq—a camp for transgender and gender nonconforming youth, who inspire him to do what he can to accelerate acceptance for the transgender community.

Meredith Talusan is an award-winning journalist and author who has written features, essays, and opinion pieces for many publications, including The Guardian, The Atlantic, VICE, Matter, Backchannel, The Nation, Mic, BuzzFeed News, and the American Prospect. She has received journalism awards from GLAAD and the Society for Professional Journalists, and is a contributor to Nasty Women: Feminism, Resistance, and Revolution in Trump's America. She lives in New York City.

Mathew Rodriguez is an award-winning journalist and staff writer at Mic. He is a former editor at TheBody.com, an HIV/AIDS news website, and a contributing editor at Modern Loss. His work focuses on the intersectional lives of LGBTQ people. He also hosts a podcast, Slayerfest98, about his favorite television show, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Shelby Chestnut is the Director of Community Organizing and Public Advocacy at the New York City Anti-Violence Project. For over a decade, Shelby has been organizing with LGBTQ people, people of color, and low income communities to address violence, promote access to resources, and affect local policy change that is for and by the people most impacted by oppression. Shelby holds a BA from Antioch College and an MS from the New School. Shelby is a member of the Assinibouine Nation in Montana. Shelby currently calls Brooklyn, New York home.

Serena Jazmine Daniari is a passionate writer, blogger, social media strategist, writer and transgender activist of Iranian descent. She graduated from New York University in 2015 with a BS in Media, Culture, and Communication. Since then, Serena has worked with AOL, Cambio, The Huffington Post, and #BUILTBYGIRLS working on audience development and social strategy. During this time, Serena publicly documented and blogged about her gender transition online as she underwent various gender-affirming surgeries. Serena is now a Social Programming Editor at Mic, a media company for millennials. She has worked closely with GLSEN, GLAAD, and the Transgender Law Center.

#Issue Time #transgender #trans #trans rights #transgender rights #LGBTQ #Pride #news #IT #trans issue time

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mercurydancer · 2 years

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It Happened Quiet Pt 36

Release and Tension

Tiq visits an old friend.

Maul finds he was missed.

As Promised, Maul got them pointy ears. Dexter Jettster being the *best* individual and poisoning Palps with like. old meatloaf is canon to legends and therefore canon to my heart, source will be shared in a follow-up reblog.

Warning for an animal getting their head bitten off non-graphically.

Also warning for a long-ass chapter and brief suicidal talk.

Maul was barely aware of the fact that he had been led back into his rooms, and he was being sat on the couch and he was so…

Maul was poison.

“Maul,” a voice was saying, and Maul finally began to focus, to realize that there was someone crouched in front of him, and he realized… Tiq. Tiq was there, Tiq was right in front of him, and Maul wanted to pull back. How could Tiq be so close to him when all Maul did was cause pain? “Maul, please, talk to me,” Tiq said, seeming to realize that Maul was aware, was looking at him directly, “please, can I touch your face? Can I touch you?”

Maul turned his head away, ducking it towards his chest, his horns threatening and…

“Please, Maul,” Tiq said, even as he pulled back, pulled away, his hands fisting, “what are you thinking? Please, walk me through your thought process.”

Maul said nothing.

And then finally.

Softly…

“Why don’t you just end it?”

“…End…end what?” Tiq asked softly.

“This,” Maul said roughly, “all of this, all of this… He is right. He is right and all I do and all I have caused has been pain. My hands are drenched in blood, and it is all that they will ever be drenched in and all I will ever cause. It is all I have evercaused. Lumin was right.”

“Maul,” Tiq said and there was something so…hurt.

“I even hurt you,” Maul said, staring at him. “And what if…what if my Master comes back?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if he is not dead? What if we are wrong? What if he comes back and he asks for me…? What would I do?” Maul found the words dripping from his mouth, poison, more poison, something he had kept within even as he found it suddenly pouring out, seeping from his mouth. “You believe you are the first that have tried to stop me? Eldra tried to stop me. Meltch tried to stop me, Kilindi… They tried to give me… They tried to give me so much and I killed them. I killed all of them, I followed my Master’s orders and I tore apart the thing I loved the most. I killed them with my bare hands, and now I am here. Now I am with you, and I am just…” Maul stared at him. “I really am the Monster at the heart of the Mine,” he whispered. “I really am the one that will be the knife in your heart. All my hands do is cause pain. Why not just kill me?”

Tiq stared at him and… “May I hold your hands?”

“Why?” Maul whispered.

“Because I want to,” Tiq said softly, “because I want to prove to you that your hands can be gentle.”

Maul trembled even as he slowly finally held them out, and Tiq held them in his.

“You are right, and Lumin is right in that your hands have caused pain. You are right in that you have killed…so many, have both been forced to, and have chosen to kill so many. But these are also the hands of someone who held a little girl like she was made of glass. Of someone that read stories to younglings, and were so gentle, that never ever hurt them.”

Maul took a shuddering breath, feeling as Tiq’s hold tightened.

“These are the hands that drew pictures for a youngling to color and were kind enough to eat something even though it made you ill (which I still do not approve of, but the sentiment was good). These are the hands that have helped cultivate an entire crop of jahaal’got klesir, thereby healing so many, that have helped Jocasta Nu formulate our Archives, that have made tea for others and hosted them in your own space, that cared enough to ask for different preferences. I know why you have those other teas in your cupboard, Maul. These hands can be gentle, can have a touch so delicate we have trusted you with repairs in the Archives, and with the information that we hold, that we have trusted to let in amongst our children. These are hands that have killed, yes, that have been painted in blood… But Maul…they do not have to be, and it is not all that you have done. Do not let words spoken in hurt and pain be words that you cleave to your hearts and bind to you. Not when they are not true.”

Maul said nothing, staring at Tiq as he continued to trace his fingers over Maul’s hands, as he gently held them as he pulled them close, pressed right against his chest, and looked up at Maul with those large eyes.

“And Maul,” Tiq whispered softly. “You do not have to be a knife. If we are wrong. If your Master comes back, you can make a choice. And if you find that you are forced to be a knife, you can be the knife that protects. And even then…you can still learn how notto be a knife. You can learn how to be the one that creates beautiful works of art, that creates and does not destroy, that uses words instead of violence. In so many ways you already have! Look at what surrounds you, Maul! All of those drawings are yours! All of the crops you have grown… And Maul, listen to me…you do not deserve to die any more than Eldra did. You did not deserve to liveanymore than she did either. Deserve is one of those words… It is one of those things where it strips so much inherent beauty and wonder out of everything. It puts it all up on a pedestal of reward, or judgement… And that is not a place where anything or anyone should be. It is not about deserve.”

Maul shivered, staring at him, staring and…

“Maul,” Tiq whispered, “your path has been so dark, but it does not have to be. You can walk in the light, you can do so much, you can learn and be so much, and you already have. You’ve learned so much, you’ve already done so much. If you were put in front of Eldra Kaitis today, would you kill her?”

Maul blinked, staring at him, “I…”

“Would you?”

Maul opened his mouth and softly, truthfully, “No.”

“Then there, Maul,” Tiq smiled, “that is a choice. It is proof that you are growing. It is proof that you can learn and can be so much more than what you have done… And if deserve is still a word that rings in your mind, I want you to look at me and know from the deepest depths of your being that you also did not deserve to die by Eldra’s hand. If you had died then you would have been a boy that had only known pain and was given no opportunity to know and be otherwise. You did not deserve what happened to you. You did not deserve to be forced to kill to survive. You did not deserve to have your sentience denied, and your body broken, and your soul bound to something that you couldn’t contain and was not right. What happened to you…was disgusting and repulsive, and you…” Tiq shook his head. “Eldra brought pride to her Order and to her line and she has gone to join the Cosmic Force. We will see her again. Her death grieves me and to know that you have killed her hurts, but I choose to still help you, Maul. I choose to because I know that you knew no other way, and I believe, and you have proven that you can do otherwise. I do not want you to die, and I do not regret any of the choices I have made. And more… I do not think Eldra would wish for you to die either, not if she knew.”

Maul stared at him for a long time. “Are you sure?”

Tiq sighed. “I can never be sure. But I can base a guess over what I knew of her. You burned, Maul?”

“I hurt. All the time.”

Tiq closed his eyes for a long moment. “Yes. I’m certain she would not have wished for you to die. She will not be able to tell us with her own lips, but I knew her. I miss her. I mourned. Do you understand, Maul?”

“Yes,” Maul whispered. “I am sorry.”

“And this too is growing.” Tiq took a breath.

Maul closed his eyes before finally pulling his hands back, Tiq letting them go, putting his hands over his face. “I do not understand,” he whispered. “I do not understand why you do not hate me for taking her from you… I was not ordered. It was me. It was all me. I chose.”

“Maul,” Tiq said so softly, “I cannot hate you for doing what your Master taught you. I cannot hate you for trying desperately to remove the pain that your Master drove into you. I cannot hate you when you were just a boy that did not know any better and could only make choices based on what you were told. You killed two Guards within our own walls, and I knew this. I know the ones you killed under the orders of your Master, and I knew the ones you killed here by choice, this, none of this is surprising outside of the fact that we now know the name of the one you killed. I told you before that I made the choice a long time ago that I was going to help you. Knowing who it was that you killed does not change the fact that I made a choice. I know, Maul, I know that you are learning and that you are growing and that you yourself can choose and have chosen to learn. I cannot hate someone who has done that, who has made such massive steps. I cannot hate you.”

Maul breathed it in.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Maul answered finally, softly. “I am…I am sorry. I am sorry I killed her. I am sorry I took her; I am sorry I… I would have told him. I did not remember until he said, but I would have told him. I would have…my mind, my mind I do not…”

“I know, Maul,” Tiq whispered, “I know. You told him as soon as you remembered. You took responsibility for your choices. It is alright. For my own part, I forgive you. But it is up to him what he does…and it is up to you to live with that choice.” Tiq took a breath, “which brings us to something very important…”

“Yes?”

“Do you wish to die, Maul?”

Maul said nothing for the longest time, for a moment taking that question in, thinking and softly, “No,” he whispered, for it was true. Selfishly, horribly, Maul still wanted to live.

Tiq looked at him and his expression tightened. “You know what you asked me?”

“Yes.”

“You know what you said?”

“I do.”

“You understand why we have to watch you carefully for a while?”

Maul paused, taking this in, watched as Tiq looked to the hands, his hands, that Maul had bit again and again and again. More evidence of hurt.

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Tiq took a breath. “Okay. Do you mind if I stay here for a while?”

“No.”

“Thank you.”

Tiq slid onto the couch more comfortably, carefully adjusting himself before extending a hand to him. Maul hesitated for a moment before taking it, allowing himself to be pulled close and tucked underneath an arm that held him close, up against a pillow that Tiq had placed over his chest to protect him from Maul’s horns.

It did not take long before Maul fell asleep.

There were no dreams.

Maul awoke in his room.

The realization that he was tucked underneath the covers was momentarily disorienting, but once he realized why he seemed restrained he carefully worked to remove his arms from their coverings. As soon as they were free he had a moment to look at the bandages wrapped around his hands that still had yet to be removed. The sight brought with it images of everything that had happened, of the quiet confessions, of…of Eldra.

Of Kilindi.

Maul lay there for a moment staring at the bandages on his hands and slowly coming to terms with the fact that the Jedi knew.

The Jedi knew of who they had killed.

The Jedi did not…they did not know of Kilindi, and they did not know… But even as the thoughts ran through his mind, Maul realized… Maul realized it would only be a matter of time until Tiq knew.

Maul had made a decision.

Maul had forgotten Eldra.

Maul had not just decided not to tell he had forgotten.

There was a steadily growing fear that felt as though it had been growing in the back of his mind the entire night, the fear of what else he could have forgotten.

What else had been broken away from his mind that he no longer had any connection to? What else…what else…

It frightened him. It frightened him in a way he did not have the words for, rising up to choke him, but even so…even so…

There was still the gulf.

And Maul was still…

Maul was still…

Maul closed his eyes and found his hands pressed over his eyes, turning the world dark.

Maul hurt.

And he hurt others.

And Maul’s mind…

Was not…a good place.

Maul was thinking of asking Tiq to help him…to have him…

There was so much within Maul’s hearts and his mind, and he could not imagine…

The fear was black.

There was so much more that Tiq would find, so much more…not even just what he had done, but what had been done to him and the idea of Tiq’s face…the quiet horror, the…

Maul dreaded that almost more than the question itself.

But he could…he could not.

Not yet. It was…it was so much trust and Maul had just…

Maul could not.

Maul slowly worked his way out of the bed, feeling the way his clothes attempted to stick to his skin, the grime that had built up. Idly, Maul wondered what time it was. He needed a shower and…and perhaps to eat something. The grumble of his stomach seconded the thought and Maul was once again given the question of how long it had been.

He grabbed a change of clothes and opened the door to his room…

Only to find Eeth sitting at his table. Maul blinked.

He blinked again.

Still there.

The smell of Bloodroot lingered in the air and Maul realized that Eeth had prepared himself a cup and was currently reading a datapad. A moment later and Eeth looked up, a smile pulling at his mouth.

“Hello!” Eeth called, putting the datapad down. “I’m sorry to just barge in like this but I must admit that we were getting a bit worried about you. It was getting on two in the afternoon when I first came to check on you. Then I realized you were sleeping and well…I hope you do not mind that I made myself at home.”

“I…do not,” Maul said, and truthfully…truthfully he did not… Maul had…Maul had spoken so much and Eeth had…he had been there… Maul took a quiet step forward, taking in the way Eeth smiled at him, the warmth of his gaze. “You…were worried?”

Eeth blinked. “I was,” he said.

Maul stared at him for a moment. “You…do not…hate me?”

Eeth put the datapad down fully, something impossibly hard to read in his expression before he finally stood up from the table and walked forward. Maul held perfectly still, unwilling for a moment to move, and then Eeth bent forward, his horns interlocking with his own. “Oh, little cousin,” he breathed softly, “I could no more hate you than I could stop being a Jedi. I heard and I saw,” he said softly, “nothing has changed. I do mourn Eldra, but the thought of no one to mourn you shatters my own hearts. I will see her again. I am privileged with the ability to now see you.”

Maul felt his body slowly relax, his horns shifting to properly lock to Eeth’s own, his own horns that were so different, the quiet cousin…cousin…

Maul breathed, and finally slowly pulled back. Eeth took him by the shoulders and smiled. “It is good to meet you, Maul,” he said. “I do not regret the bond.”

“I…do not regret it either,” he whispered.

“And I am glad,” Eeth gave him a brief but fond shake, smiling. “Now go get dressed. I’ll have food ready when you’re out.”

Maul left to the shower, allowing himself to stay within the water setting in until his body felt genuinely warm and carefully dried and changed. When he exited Eeth was sitting at the table, and there was a small lunch that had been prepared that would be enough for two Zabraks. Maul sat across from him, finding the meat the sort of raw sort that was meant for tearing. It looked wonderful.

Even as something was still buzzing…in the back of his mind…

The quietest of realizations…

The smallest of flickers…

The realization…

That Maul was someone to be mourned.

Maul would be someone that was missed.

…Like she was missed…

She was missed…

Maul still hurt.

Obi-Wan sat on a rock in the middle of the meditation gardens, listening to the sound of the water beneath him, the birds that chirped, the fluttering of flowering insects… And the sudden feel of Heat that flickered.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, looking towards the jahaal’got klesir that had been planted, one of the true surprises that had been planted within the Gardens.

Obi-Wan did not know much about plants. Once he had been saved from the fate of the Agri-corps he had rather decided he had had enough of them. But even Obi-Wan knew that what had happened with the jahaal’got klesir was incredible.

Jahaal’got klesir was a remarkably stubborn and very finicky little plant that had somehow managed to thrive. Obi-Wan, and the rest of the Jedi that knew, all believed that it was due to the one that tended them.

It was due to Maul.

As Obi-Wan watched he could see the slightest of black smudges, not truly attempting to hide, but not attempting to draw attention to himself, either.

Obi-Wan could understand. As it was though…Obi-Wan did want to talk to him.

When Maul did not attempt to leave, or to do much of anything, Obi-Wan glanced around briefly, before finally leaping over to the edge of the water, brushing off his pants and slowly walking over to where Maul was sitting on the edge of a sea of green sprouts, growing strong and full.

Maul looked up at him when he approached and after a moment Obi-Wan settled on a quiet, “Hello, there.”

Maul blinked at him.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said after a moment, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

Maul shook his head and Obi-Wan smiled, sinking onto one of the rocks nearby, looking over the sprouted green. “You’re doing very well,” he said, and Maul’s expression froze. “I do not just mean with the plants…though there is no doubt that you have done an utterly fantastic job. I also…I mean with how you are growing.”

Maul’s expression turned from surprised to something that almost appeared annoyed. For a moment Obi-Wan did not understand, and then he had to laugh.

“I do not mean physically!” and when Maul’s face grew even more annoyed, Obi-Wan laughed harder. “I am sorry! I had not meant to rub it in, my gracious!”

Maul’s mouth drew into a deeper frown before he finally sighed. “I do not care truly,” he said, his voice rumbling into the Zabrak’s lower registers, brimming with not annoyance, but an almost complete emptiness. There was no real bite to his words regardless of his expression. Once again Obi-Wan found his gaze drawn to the tattoos that lined his face, wondering briefly how intense they made his expressions, however much. “It is not something that can be helped,” Maul continued and Obi-Wan took a breath.

“Perhaps not,” Obi-Wan said, sighing. “But for what it is worth…I did not come to talk to you about that.”

“I know.”

Obi-Wan stared at the kid before him and…he really was just a kid. Perhaps eighteen, but even then Maul was small, and for as built and as deadly as he was he was truly deceptively fragile. The fact that he had yet to grow into, and likely would never grow into his pointed ears added a certain youth to his features that would perhaps always be there. It was hard…to look at this boy and think of the fact that until a year ago…

“I am…I am glad,” Obi-Wan finally said. “I said it before and I wish…I wish to say it again, but I am glad that you are with us. And I know this is…perhaps strange but I thought it last night and I wished to tell you. I am glad that you were the one to kill Eldra. Would I wish that she had not died, yes. Of course, I do…I wish it very much. I wish that the pirates had not attacked their ship. I wish that she had been able to escape… I wish that you had never heard of her. But I also do not wish that she killed you instead. And I am pleased to know what happened to her. I am glad that she died with honor and on her feet and that you did nothing more than fight her. I had…visions sometimes. In my darkest of nights, I had visions, ideas of what could have happened to her, of what…awful things they might do… To know that she was…treated with respect and as an opponent, as a Jedi… You may not see it as the gift that it is, but it is a gift. You have brought closure to my heart, and you have brought closure to the heart of her Master.”

Maul stared at him, his eyes so… “I wish I had not heard of her, too,” he said finally, so quietly. “I wish that my Master had never found me and that…” he paused, and then there was the slightest of smiles on his face, one that was so…bitter. “I do not know if I should wish to never be found,” he said. “I am after all a male and born of Dathomir.” The slight tilt of his head brought a brief twist to Obi-Wan’s stomach. “I don’t know that it would have gone well for me there either. Though perhaps there…I would not have known otherwise.” Maul shrugged. “It is funny. Before I began speaking with the Jedi…I did not understand…so much. And now I find I know so much and yet nothing at all.” Maul stared at him for a moment. “It is strange what we think of as normal when there are no other options.”

“And would you…go back to that if you could?” Obi-Wan asked. “Would you go back to not knowing anything? To being…completely content in how you were?”

Maul stared at him for the longest time, and as he did so there was a steadily growing horror building in those eyes, something so… But even as that horror grew something else did as well. Something that almost looked confused, that looked…lost.

“No,” Maul whispered.

Obi-Wan smiled. “I am glad you are here. And I will remain that way. You’ve already shaken up our Order in ways that have been…very good for us, Maul, and I cannot overstate that. I am pleased I got the chance to meet you…and that I did not kill you.”

Maul sneered at him. “You would not have been able to kill me.”

“Oh, no?” Obi-Wan asked, his brows rising, even as he couldn’t help the amusement that was burning. “And what makes you so sure? We certainly bested you…”

“Because, Kenobi, I am simply too angry to die,” Maul answered.

“OH, and are you?” Obi-Wan asked, beaming at him, “truly tell me more! I had thought that given the way you had been learning you would find that you had put a lot of your rage down, is this not so?”

“Put my rage down?” Maul repeated softly, “Kenobi, you jest.”

“Not at all, I had thought…” Obi-Wan paused. “You merely do not seem angry…”

“And you believe that…what? I should be growling? Gnashing my teeth, offering insult, yelling outlandishly?” Maul raised a brow. “Kenobi, I am a Sith, and Anger is a weapon. I do not wield it lightly. And I am…” Maul fell silent for a long moment. “I am angry, Kenobi. In some ways I am angrier than I have ever been. I spent my entire life…hating the Jedi. I spent my entire life following the whims of a man who beat me and…” he trailed off. “He lied to me,” he said finally. “It is funny because even in the moments when I recognize that what was done was cruel, the thing that I am most angry about is the lying. I am angry that he twisted all of my perceptions. I am angry that he used me and twisted my knowledge of…of so much. He twisted my knowledge about my own body, about what I was, Kenobi. I know so little about what I am…and I…” he trailed off. “If I were to let myself I believe that I could burn hot enough to scorch the earth around me. I am fury itself…but I am fury without target and so I will not burn. I cannot. Or else it would simply hurt the ones around me…and I have…I have done enough hurt.” Maul paused, his head slowly bowing. “And yet…I keep hurting…”

Obi-Wan said nothing for a moment, trying to think of…

“Farewell Kenobi,” he said softly, and stood up. “I find that I do not wish to stay here any longer.”

“Maul,” Obi-Wan said, standing up as well. “You…I have talked to the others and if you would like to keep joining us for lunch you may.”

Maul stared at him for a long moment, those Sith eyes darting between his own and so… “I do not understand,” Maul whispered, but before Obi-Wan could respond Maul had turned and left.

Obi-Wan let him go.

Tiq took a deep breath of Coruscanti air, closing his eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of Coco Town in the twilight hours of the early morning envelop him. It had been a long couple of months. It was now two weeks since Maul had been taken off of an active suicide watch, perhaps a little longer than needed, as Tiq believed Maul when he stated that he did not wish to die, but it had not been something he wished to chance.

Particularly…when Maul seemed as though he hadn’t noticed he was on watch.

Maul had taken the quiet checks on his space and his well-being as someone that seemed to be receiving a gift. Allof the time. No matter how long it had been there was that slight edge of surprise in his receiving of people. Tiq had told him that he was on watch, and even then asked whether or not Maul minded the visitors, but…

Tiq wondered sometimes whether the surprise was not Maul realizing he was being watched…but being shocked over the fact that people would care.

Shocked over the fact that so many may not in fact want him dead.

Tiq was not in the habit of lying to himself…but the prospect of that hurt him so dearly it was hard to think of it. It was hard to breathe it out.

But Tiq needed to. Not just because pitying Maul overly long for any reason would not be tolerated for very long, but also because Maul deserved to be seen through clear eyes. Eyes that were not clouded by emotion and unnecessary sentiment that refused to see where there might be a problem.

And so, he had come here as soon as he thought it was safe to leave the Temple to gain a bit more clarity and recenter himself.

It was safe to visit a friend.

The sound of the bell dinging as he entered the Diner was a familiar sort of chime, one that brought a brief smile to his face as he stepped into the empty restaurant, all minus two very important individuals. One that he could hear banging in the back, and the other that was likely charging for the night.

“Take a seat, I’ll be right with ya!”

Tiq grinned, walked up to the bar and called back, “Take your time, I’m in no rush.”

There was a pause.

Tiq sat at the barstool placed in front of the kitchen window expectantly, waiting as Dex poked his head through, the Besalisk’s expression pulling into the widest grin.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite headshrinker!” Dex called out, and Tiq laughed, delighted warmth in the sound as Dex finally walked around into the kitchen, favoring his knee as usual, Tiq rising to meet him. Dex pulled him close into an embrace. For a moment Tiq sank into it properly, before finally pulling back. “It’s damn good to see ya.”

“It’s wonderful to see you, Dex,” Tiq smiled, “it’s been entirely too long.”

“Take a load off, I’ll be right with you. You want anything to eat?”

“No, I’m good,” Tiq answered with a shake of his head. “Though I won’t say no to a drink with a friend.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Dex laughed and returned back to the kitchen for a moment before coming back around. “Sorry about that,” he said, before pouring a couple drinks, sitting them down before them as he joined him at the bar.

“No trouble at all,” Tiq said, grinning, “now please, how are you? What’s new?”

“Planning to psychoanalyze me, Shrink?” Dex asked with a grin. Tiq laughed.

“Never, we’re friends, Dex, you never psychoanalyze friends,” Tiq leaned forward, “you give them a referral.”

Dex threw his head back and laughed, Tiq joining him. “Ah, I’ll drink to that,” Dex held out his glass, Tiq clicking his own against it and they took a brief drink, setting the glasses down with a satisfying click. “Gods, but I’ve missed you, it really has been too long.”

“Going on a year by now I think,” Tiq sighed, rubbing under his eye. “Speaking of referrals, are…?”

“They’re good,” Dex smiled. “I was able to connect ‘em with the people you recommended. They’ve been good fits, and they’ve been really happy. They miss you, but they understand. They were all clear on the fact that you couldn’t stay with ‘em forever, that you had others that needed you.”

“I’m still sorry to have left it like that,” Tiq said, sighing, “there has been so much going on I haven’t had time for much of anything.”

“It’s fine, Tiq,” Dex said. “They know you wouldn’t stop hosting sessions without reason.”

“It’s true,” Tiq said. “But you haven’t said how you were.”

“Ah, you know,” Dex huffed, “I’m good. I have been better, but it’s been good. There’s a lot of things to coordinate and a lot of people to host. The diner is busy as ever, and you’ll never guess what happened.”

“What?”

“Did you happen to read that article?”

“Which one?” Tiq asked.

“The one…about the Chancellor visiting some of the localities?”

“The…” Tiq paused, frowning and then blinked. “Dex,” he breathed. “Dex, did he come here?” Dex leaned close, a grin pulling at his mouth.

“He did.”

Tiq stared at Dex.

Dex stared at him, that grin pulling wider and wider, baring more and more teeth.

“Dex,” Tiq started, feeling the amusement building within his chest, “what did you do to him?”

“Aw, nothing terrible,” Dex waved him off, leaning back. “Just…gave him a week-old meatloaf.”

Tiq choked on his own spit, stared at Dex, who stared at him, and finally lost his shit.

“Why?” Tiq gasped, “Why, that’s…Dex, why would you ever?”

“Because,” Dex grumbled, “I had to see if he was worth his salt as a politician.”

“By giving him food poisoning?” Tiq practically shrieked and Dex howled with laughter.

“I asked him how it was!” Dex called out, “I asked him how it was! He looked me…he looked me right in the damn eye and said it was delicious! Best meatloaf he’d ever tasted! And I know damn well it was not!”

“DEX YOU POISONED HIM TO SEE IF HE WOULD LIE?”

“And what of it, he should have decent medical given he’s the chancellor…”

Tiq was in tears.

“Tiq, Tiq, you cannot look me in the eye and say that you don’t think that man is suspicious as hell.”

“Oh, no, I don’t talk…” Tiq waved a hand even as Dex raised a brow at him, leaning closer.

“Come on Healer Tiq, what’s your expert opinion, I know you say you don’t psychoanalyze, but I know that you’re always looking, so tell me, what do you think of him?”

Tiq wet his lips briefly, his thoughts racing before finally, “He’s very shallow.”

“HA!”

“But that doesn’t mean I think you should give him food poisoning!!!”

“No, no! But you’re going to tell me why!”

Tiq hesitated, “He…” Tiq sighed, “he says anything that seems to appeal to the public. And while in a way that’s his job, I have noticed a distinct lack of…action. He speaks very well, verywell, Dex, it’s almost…” Tiq scrunched his snout for a moment, “it’s hard to explain. It seems sometimes that he always knows exactly what to say, and that might be from the fact that he was a career politician. But even so I’m surprised whenever he states an opinion that might be even the slightest bit controversial. And you…you know that we operate very close to the Chancellor’s Cabinet, yes?”

“Yeah, I was aware of that,” Dex said. “What do you think?”

“They are…” Tiq hesitated, “strange. I do not mean that he surrounds himself primarily with ‘yes’ people, but I definitely am uncomfortably aware of the fact that they are always watching, and it is…interesting. His choice of Guard is interesting. The choice of his décor is interesting. He’s utilizing a lot of old artifacts that come from battles between the Jedi and the Sith. Look at me, Dex, look and tell me that that isn’t strange.”

“I can’t,” Dex laughed. “I can’t.”

“But here’s the thing that makes it understandable – he is from Naboo. Even Politics are a type of performance to them, and I can see where he is getting his inspiration and his focus. They are trained so early! Their Queen now…Padmé Amidala, an extraordinary child, who rose to an occasion she shouldn’t have had to, but nonetheless still a child. He’s trying to keep everyone happy. Which…makes him a good politician but I do not know if he is someone that I would have chosen for Chancellor.”

“And you didn’t even have to give him week-old meatloaf.”

Tiq howled. “You didn’t have to give him week-old meatloaf, either, you just chose to!”

“But it was funny,” Dex grinned.

Tiq wheezed. “Oh, Dex, I am absolutely done with you, that is too funny. How did you even get week old meatloaf anyway? Don’t…oh Dex, did you literally wait for this man?”

“When else was I going to get the opportunity?”

Tiq put his head between his knees and cried. Dex howled with laughter, patting his back, until finally Tiq could lean up and wipe his eyes. “I swear, Dex, that is just…you didn’t like him from the start, did you?”

“Now, what gave me away?” Dex asked, placing a large hand on his chest while his other three were held up innocently. Tiq snorted.

“Now, how’s it been with you?” Dex asked. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard…” Dex hesitated. “Tiq, I’ve been meaning to ask you…did…did they do it? Did they finally pull the plug?”

Tiq blinked, “oh, goodness it has been that long,” Tiq whispered. “No! No, not at all, Dex…” Tiq put his hands over his face, “oh so much has happened… They tripled our funding.”

“What?” Dex asked, leaning forward, the start of a smile pulling at his mouth.

“They tripled our funding. They…Dex, they have begun coming to my people, I have had people ask if they can join and be Mind Healers, if… Dex, I don’t even know where to start…?”

Dex beamed from ear to ear, grabbing Tiq’s shoulders and shaking him, “That’s so good! I’m so happy for you!” he called out, finally lifting him up and pulling him into a tight hug, Tiq laughing aloud, holding him back. “That’s amazing! What changed?”

Tiq paused. “By the Force, Dex…so much,” he breathed. “I don’t…” Tiq sighed. “I don’t know where to start, or even how much I can say. It’s not a multitude of things, Dex, it’s just the one.”

“What is that?” Dex watched him eagerly, but when Tiq hesitated just long enough Dex brought his hands up. “Now, I know when you’re hesitating it usually involves a patient or several. I know you’re not going to talk to me about that, and I don’t expect you to, but I’m just…glad. You’re worth so much to the Order, it’s about damn time that they saw that.”

Tiq laughed, “thank you.”

“I mean it,” Dex said, “you’ve helped plenty of my people and have always been good for a referral when you can’t help yourself. I don’t know what a lot of them would have done without your help. The idea that they would have shut that down still baffles me.”

Tiq smiled, letting the words settle within him. “Thank you, Dex, truly. I do mean it.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” Dex grinned and stretched. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to do one brief ritual.”

“Oh, please, take your time, though…” Tiq picked up his empty glass and held it out with a wide grin, Dex immediately snorting with laughter and grabbing it, filling it expertly before going into the back for a moment. When he came out it was with a cup of… “Is that…pepper oil?” Tiq asked watching as Dex placed it on the windowsill at the back.

“Yup,” Dex said, “it’s a good brew, too, one of our strongest. You have to have gloves to handle it properly.”

Sure enough, Tiq could see that Dex was wearing gloves and when he came back he carefully removed the gloves, throwing them away without touching the part that had been holding the little container of oil.

“That is strong!”

“Not strong enough,” Dex laughed, sitting down, “no matter how much we put on, Pepper’d always ask for more.”

“Pepper?” Tiq asked, interest piquing, amusement curling his mouth.

“Yeah, sure, Pepper. It’s not his actual name, right, but…” Dex paused, rubbing the back of his neck, “truth be told I don’t know his actual name. None of us do. See…a while back, and when I say a while I mean it, but my Diner used to get a visitor that would come in, drop the exact change for a cup of fleek eels, and would always ask for extra pepper oil. Never said his name, asked how anyone was doing, never did much of anything except for periodically he would say ‘more pepper oil, please,’ and ‘thank you.’ And now…given he was polite, and he always did work to tip, even if that tip wasn’t very much, we all got used to seeing him, particularly since he always asked for the same thing. Cup of fleek eels, extra pepper oil. And since no one knew his name, first it was ‘Cup of Fleek,’ then it was ‘Fleek,’ then it was ‘Extra Pepper Oil,’ and then it simply became Pepper, and we called him that ever since.”

“That’s fantastic,” Tiq laughed.

“Yeah,” Dex grinned, “we always knew when he was comin’ and… Well, there were a few things about him that naturally gained a bit of interest. One, he was young as hell, Tiq, two, the exact change for the cup of fleek, being the cheapest thing on the menu…he didn’t have much, but he was always willing to tip, and I have a lot of respect for that, even when the girls started trying to give it back they somehow always had it when he left. Like…this was a kid…” Dex rubbed the back of his neck. “Thing was, he was also a Nightbrother kid.”

Tiq blinked. “What?” he asked softly.

“You heard what I said, Tiq, he was a Nightbrother. Young as hell, completely alone and scraping money off the damn streets, and…” Dex frowned, “Ah hell, Tiq, I have thrown quite a few people out of my Diner before, but this one I think I should have frankly kickedout. This piece-of-shit human, leaning up against this kid’s table and trying to talk to him, trying to cozy up to him while Pepper’s just sitting there stiff as a damn duracrete slab and with about the same level of emotion, and like… I saw that, Tiq, I saw red. I picked this guy up and threw him right the hell out, and… I turned back to check on Pepper, and he just…stared at me, Tiq, just stared at me like he had never seen anything like me before, like the idea that someone would be looking out for him was so fuckin insane that he just…” Dex rubbed his neck again, grumbling. “Ah hell, Tiq, it was the worst kind of thing to be fixed under, particularly given how young the kid was. That young and already lookin’ at the world like everythin’s a threat and out to get ya. I think he really believed that, too.”

“What do you mean?” Tiq asked.

“I…slipped him an extra eel once,” Dex said, “I just wanted to…look if you saw this kid you’d know that he wasn’t getting’ proper nutrition. His horns were flakin’, and he was just a tiny guy. Corded with muscle, mind, and walked and stared with an eye that said he would kill ya’ just as easily as looking at ya’, but he definitely wasn’t getting’ enough to eat. So…as he’s a regular and he needs a bit of extra lookin’ out for, I slipped an eel. The bowl of fleek eels say that you can get more than the allotted… The cup doesn’t. And he saw that and Tiq, I swear to the Force itself that he looked at me like he thought I was tryin’ to poison him.”

“That must have been hard,” Tiq managed, even as he worked on punishing his mind for clinging to the similarities. Maul was hardly the only Nightbrother in the Galaxy and surely…surely…

“It was dreadful!” Dex managed. “I think the only thing that saved me was the fact that up until that point… I’d managed to successfully look out for him in a way that I think he understood. When I threw someone out for pressurin’ him I think he really understood that he was safe there. I think I rattled that and…hell, Tiq, for a while I was scared he was never goin’ to come back! And then one day he shows up again. Pepper gets called to the back, I put together the cup of eels, and a call for extra pepper gets sent back and when I tell you it was the biggest relief…” Dex put a hand on his chest. “I just sat there for a moment, Tiq, I just looked out the window and smiled at him, and after a moment he dipped his head in acknowledgement and went right back to eatin’.”

“Did he keep coming back?” Tiq asked.

“Well…” Dex sighed, “no,” he said finally. “See…” he rubbed his face. “I kicked people out before, I told you that…and there was this guy that was especially nasty. You have to work pretty damn hard to get me to kick you out and this guy pushed all the buttons, one of which was loomin’ over this kid. Different guy but same exact thing. He’s a Nightbrother, right, and a kid and… Fuck, Tiq, I hate it. He was already workin’ so hard at stayin’ safe, right? He only showed up at night, around this time, which is why we started leavin’ the oil out for him now, but… You can’t account for people sometimes, and this one came in and just leered among some other things and man, when I say that I was seein’ red again…” Dex shook his fist for a second. “Either way I threw him right the hell out on his ass and told him to stay there. Well…apparently he took great offense. Can’t imagine why.” Tiq snorted, Dex grinning roughly.

“See…” Dex sighed, “I told him to stay out, he couldn’t come back, the works, and once again that kid lookin’ at me like he’d never had that kind of lookin’ out for, and Tiq, I swear.” Dex shook his head. “Either way, he looks at me with these big eyes of his and just…” Dex waved his hand. “Regardless…the man came back. Only this time he brought weapons with him.”

“Dex,” Tiq breathed, “was anyone hurt?”

“No,” Dex answered, “because a certain someone returned the favor.”

“Pepper?” Tiq asked immediately, leaning forward, “how do you know, did you see him??”

“No, I didn’t see him personally,” Dex said, shaking his head. “I got a recordin’ of it.”

Tiq sat up straight in his chair.

“Now…” Dex paused, “if I show you this, you have to promise to leave it alone, alright?”

“Dex, I don’t care what he does to protect you and the people of this Diner, I never have, protecting people can lead to some utter devastation at times and I have no qualms with violence…”

“Then alright,” Dex frowned, “you see the other thing about it is I don’t think I’m supposed to have been able to view it, he tried to erase it, but I have backups of backups and he was called away before he could finish. I swear that if he was at it for much longer he could have broken the lot of them.”

“That is…skilled?” Tiq asked.

“Unbelievably,” Dex answered from where he had gone to retrieve a holopad that he brought back. “I have some of the top people workin’ on the security here, includin’ some people that live to crack that security. The fact that he almost deleted all of my files really says somethin’. Either way…”

Dex pulled up the required file and held it out to Tiq, who took the pad, frowning thoughtfully at it.

And there Tiq could see the outside of the diner, as well as the sounds of a party happening within, the sight of lights flashing.

“Birthday,” Dex said, “big family, big party, lot of people…”

Tiq nodded even as he kept watching, taking in the sight of a man that walked past with a… “Is that a thermal detonator?” Tiq hissed, leaning closer to the image, horror filling him.

“Yup,” Dex answered.

“How in the Force did…”

A black shape stepped forward then, small, its features obscured as his hood was pulled up, barely up to his chest.

“Get the fuck outta here,” the human hissed, “you want to die, little punk, because…”

Tiq couldn’t hear what was said, the voice was too quiet, but it was enough to cause the human to falter, taking a step back, before they pulled a vibroblade, Tiq’s heart in his throat as it was pointed towards the small figure who…

Grabbed the hand with the knife, shoving it back in such a way that Tiq was certain it dislocated their wrist, yanking them closer towards him and even as the hand with the thermal detonator went to let go, the knife weas taken from the limp hand and easily cut through the hand holding the detonator, sending it dropping limply to the ground before with the casualness of a flicker of movement, a heavily booted foot was brought squarely into the man’s chest, sending his head smashing back against the durasteel of the Diner, bouncing…and leaving a bloody smear the length of the body’s slide to the ground.

Tiq watched as the hooded figure’s head tilted, leaning forward for a moment to examine the body, and then the hand with the thermal, before looking around. And then Tiq felt his heart stop…

As a pair of very familiar eyes…

In an equally familiar face…

Turned directly to look at the camera.

It was Maul.

“Anyway,” Dex said, “after I saw that,” he reached out for the datapad, Tiq handing it over with numb fingers. “I did a bit of digging. And what I found…”

An…advertisement was there…

Portraying…

Oh.

Cog Hive Seven.

And standing there, in chains that covered his hands and locked his wrists together, shirtless, face curled in a sneer that dared… That was Maul.

Going as Jagannath…

Tiq paused for a moment, before looking up at Dex.

“Now, I know the kid has a mile long repsheet,” he said, and Tiq found himself looking at that for a moment, “but I don’t buy it. I think…some rich prick thought that he had a get-rich-quick scheme when they found this kid, because… Tiq, I’m not goin’ to lie, I don’t think I have ever seen a kid that can fight like he does. I haven’t even seen an adult! He rips the heart out of a Wampa, and…”

“Out of a WAMPA?” Tiq shrieked.

“Yeah! Fucking ripped its heart out with his bare hands and squeezed it to a pulp in front of its fuckin’ face!” Dex called back, miming squeezing the heart directly under his nose.

Tiq stared at him. Tiq stared at Maul.

Tiq…

Tiq… “You…” he whispered, “you’re worried about him.”

“I am,” Dex said, “Dammit, but I am, Tiq,” Dex said. “I haven’t seen him in over a year. And that’s…look, I know he can take care of himself, but he saved my entire Diner and then he just disappeared! He never came back! And then to top it off, he’s a Nightbrother, and not just any Nightbrother, he’s Red. The idea that…” Dex sighed, “Aw, Tiq, the idea that someone might have just snatched him up, that…somethin’ happened and I’d never know… We’ve just…left pepper oil on the sill ever since. He saved my Diner, all those people, my employees, me! I don’t even know his name, Tiq. Jagannath it might be, but I doubt it.”

Tiq paused for a moment, staring up at him, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

“I need to go to the refresher,” Tiq breathed.

“Oh, course, you know where it is,” Dex said, waving a hand. “I’m sorry for unloading all of that on you at once, I just… We miss him, you know? We got used to his presence. I miss him.”

“I’ll…be right back,” Tiq said, and walked towards the refresher.

As soon as he was out of sight and earshot Tiq immediately flipped open his comm, he had calls to make.

Maul stood in front of the door to the Temple.

He had been woken up by a call from Tiq, one that had confused him at first, but as he spoke of the fact that… Tiq had asked him about the Diner. Tiq had asked him about Dex.

Maul had not thought of Dex for a very long time, having so much more to occupy his mind. Being inside the Temple, Maul had not at first not thought of much more than the fact that he needed to kill the Jedi…

And then so much had happened… Maul still did not fully understand, but he did understand that Dex wanted to see him. Maul had…missed him. It was something that he thought did not make sense. Maul had not spent much time talking to the old Besalisk, had said very little and signed much more, but… The presence had been unobtrusive, and Dex had been…kind.

Maul now knew enough to realize that Dex had been kind to him when so few people ever were.

Maybe that was enough to miss someone…

Either way, Maul stood next to Mace, staring at the doors, and waiting for…

“Hello,” Tiq said, coming through the doors to the outside. “Are you ready?” he asked, smiling.

Maul hesitated, looking to Mace and then back to Tiq, who stood…

“We will come back to the Temple later, alright?” Tiq’s smile gentled at the silence. “Come on,” he said softly. Maul paused, and then finally followed Tiq out onto the stone steps of the Jedi Temple.

Into fresh air for the first time in over a year.

Maul stood there for a moment, his head tilted back, for a moment just smelling the air of Coruscant, his eyes closed as he let it sink into his brain, taking in all of the scents and the feel that he had missed, the lifesigns pounding into his shields, the constant brush of other beings against his own Force Presence, so many…so many…

“I should have brought you out sooner,” Tiq said, his voice so soft, and Maul looked at him. “We’ll start taking more excursions, alright?”

“Thank you,” Maul said, and followed him into the speeder that was waiting for them. Maul kept his presence blocked as told, a ghost in the midst of so many ghosts…unseen and unheard.

And finally, they approached Dex’s Diner together.

It was still as he remembered it, all rounded edges, rounded windows, durasteel and chrome and red-lining.

Maul remembered the first time that he stepped into it, the warmth seeping over him from the rain outside, rain that even now was starting to fall, the weather operators of Coruscant keeping to their promise of no rain during the day. He had stumbled in primarily to get out of the rain and stayed due to the silence, the way the workers had given him space, the lack of questions and the general feeling of… Warmth.

Maul had not understood it then.

Maul still did not understand it, but as he finally stepped over the threshold with Tiq, it enveloped him again.

Maul stepped forward, barely aware of the fact that Tiq remained close to the door, tilting his head back as he allowed the familiar smells of Dex’s envelop him, as well as… Maul frowned, taking in a cup of pepper oil that was placed on the windowsill, the smell sharp and acrid. That smelled delightfully strong but…why was it…

Maul allowed his curiosity to rule him, walking over to carefully pick up the oil and stare at it for a moment. It didn’t look…

There was a clatter and Maul found himself looking up to take in Dex himself staring at him from the door to the kitchen.

Maul stared back, for a moment completely uncertain what to do…how to proceed. Maul had not seen him since before Maul had been pulled from Coruscant, since before he had been brought to Naboo and… It was strange. It was not as though they had been friends, really…but there was no doubt that Maul had begun to go to Dex’s Diner whenever… Whenever he had started to feel utterly trapped. Whenever the Heat had gotten too much and he felt he needed to Burn in some other way, when he could no longer stand how much he ached internally.

Maul did not feel like that any longer.

Maul would never feel like that any longer.

But there was still something to the fact that for a while…here within this Diner…

Maul had not been alone.

Maul had been with people that…that cared. And the realization stuck in his throat and in his chest.

They had cared…

And Maul had not even realized.

Maul hesitated, looking at the pepper oil in his hand, and finally walked towards the Besalisk that remained standing there still, staring at him a bit as though Maul was a ghost, was something he’d never expected to see again.

Maul stood before him, looking up to properly meet his gaze in a way that he never had, pulling the hood back from his face and back over his head. Maul had never done that, had never stared up at him without his hood, had never met his gaze truly.

After a beat Maul held out the pepper oil to him, Dex turning his head in the birdlike fashion native to Besalisks, staring down at the cup within Maul’s open palm.

“Cup of fleek eels, please?” Maul asked. “Extra pepper oil?”

Dex blinked, took in the question, and finally roared with laughter.

It was a good laugh, a loud laugh, shoulders shaking with it and tears sliding down his face, and Maul found himself with the urge to smile pulling at his mouth. “Ah, kid,” Dex finally rumbled.

“Maul,” Maul said, interrupted, shaking his head. “My name is Maul.”

“Dexter Jettster,” Dexter said, holding a hand out, “you can call me Dex.”

Dex could not believe it.

He still couldn’t believe it. Dex had worried about this kid and what had happened to him for so long it had become a bit like a sore tooth, wiggled at and prodded at in the dark hours, looking out into the night and the rain and wondering where a black-hooded figure was within it.

He hadn’t even known his nameand truly that was the worst of it. The idea that no one would know to even miss him. And the only one that did miss him didn’t even know his name. He was just a kid, a deadly kid, a kid that had violence in his hands and in the glint of his eyes, and the way he stood…but he was a kid. A kid that had never known any better.

You did not get as good as this kid was without some serious violence being done.

And now here he stood, looking up at him fully, his gaze the same yellow burning light. Maul. His name was Maul, and it fit.

For a moment Maul stared at him and at the hand that Dex had held out before him, but Dex was patient. Dex knew it would take some time.

Slowly, deliberately, Maul took the hand, and Dex beamed, pumping it once before taking the pepper oil from Maul’s other outstretched hand with his lower right.

“I have a proposition,” Dex grinned, “apparently I can never actually get the amount of pepper oil right, so how about you show me how you make it?”

Maul hummed briefly, glowing eyes darting over briefly towards Tiq – and Dex had so many questions for Tiq, but that was later, later… Maul looked back at him and finally nodded.

“Alright,” Dex smiled, “come on,” he gestured. “Let’s get to it.”

Maul followed Dex into the kitchen, and Dex gave him a moment to look over everything. Dex had long ago added accessibility options for his much smaller workers, and he could see how Maul examined them all, taking in the space that, while crowded, Dex was always proud to say was highly organized.

You couldn’t operate a decent Diner with a messy kitchen.

Giving week-old meatloaf was a special occasion.

“You’re the first one that I haven’t employed that has been back here.” Dex said with a grin, watching as Maul walked around. “You ever been in a kitchen?”

“A few times, but never to cook,” Maul answered. “The last time I was in it I put an ammonia-based cleaning solution and silica bicarbonate in a pressure cooker and then shoved the lot into a dishwasher.” Maul paused, looked up at him, a grin baring sharp teeth pulling at his mouth. “It was a very loud explosion.”

“Well, let’s not do that here, yeah?” Dex rumbled, laughing. “Come on, I’ll show you the fleek eels.”

Dex had spots for live ingredients that he kept apart from others. Locally sourced and always properly cared for, they were for eating, but Dex didn’t believe in torturing an animal unnecessarily. Maul followed him to the tanks, taking the bucket that Dex indicated, filling it with enough water to submerge them, and holding it out as Dex fished for the eels with a pair of tongs. When he had caught four of them and they were wriggling within the bucket, Maul followed him to the prep table that Dex adjusted for Maul’s height.

Maul put the eels on the table before looking around briefly.

“Take your time, familiarize yourself with what you need. The eels aren’t going anywhere,” Dex said.

Maul immediately began walking around his kitchen, looking at the various tools and the gasser, fiddling with the knobs and getting it to burn at the necessary heat, pulling a large shallow pot down, examining it for a moment before putting it on the fire to heat, taking the cup of pepper oil Dex had already given him and dumping it into the pot to heat. Dex was delighted to watch as Maul began sniffing briefly, finding his spices and seasonings, and sprinkling in a pinch of salt in the oil, before carefully working his way through the peppers that Dex had, and finally taking a decent handful over to the prep station as well as a decent knife.

Dex watched, leaning against the kitchen window as Maul carefully cut the peppers down the center, removing the seeds, and cut the peppers into slits, flattening a few cloves of garlic, and mincing them. When Dex realized Maul was going to put it into the pepper oil he immediately opened the window, recognizing that the heat was about to get intense. Maul grinned at him sharply before he dumped them both into the pepper oil, heating that carefully, stirring frequently to keep it from burning.

When the pepper oil was heated and had been turned down to simmer, Maul turned back to the fleek eels and looked up at Dex. “I think this is the part you do wrong…” he said finally.

“Show me,” Dex said, watching as Maul carefully reached into the water with his hand, clawed fingers delicately plucking an eel from the bucket and with the ease of a born carnivore, Maul looked it in the eye for a moment and promptly bit its head off.

Maul blinked then, seemed to realize what he had done, and looked directly at Dex, his eyes wide and his mouth still full of an eel head.

A moment later and Maul bit down, the very solid-sounding crunch something that it was taking all of Dex’s control not to laugh at.

“You…do not have to bite off their heads,” Maul said after he had swallowed.

“Thank you.” Dex grinned, “definitely appreciate the reassurance.”

Maul made a delicate sniff that made Dex choke back yet another laugh, before turning back to his task.

Maul bit the heads off the other fleek eels, which wriggled as their nerve-endings fired spasmodically in their death-throes, and carefully took the knife, cutting little slits between their skin and the meat. That done he took them over to the pepper oil mixture and finally tossed them in where they landed with a hiss.

Taking the spoon Maul carefully spooned the pepper oil into the slits that he had made, holding the eels carefully with a smaller pair of tongs, before finally putting the eels back into the pot, letting them sizzle. “You have a cream soup base you use?”

“I do,” Dex agreed, “here.” He pulled it out of the conservator and checked the date out of habit, even though he knew it was good for at least another week, before handing it over to Maul. Maul had pulled down another pan and heated the soup carefully. Not enough for it to boil, but just enough to get it warm. The eels he had already placed into a cup, not letting them truly cook, just get integrated with the pepper oil.

That done he finally poured the soup into another cup, before placing the utensils and pots into the dishwasher to be cleaned. Dex walked over to the eels, carefully picking the cup up before shaking it, watching as the nerves in the headless eels fired once again, writhing as though they were still living.

Huh.

“Well,” Dex grinned, “for someone who blew up a dishwasher the last time you were in a kitchen…it looks pretty good. Smells like it’s gonna melt my face off if I try and eat it, but I suppose that’s what you’re goin’ for.” Dex grinned and carried both the soup base and the eels back into the seating area, where Tiq was waiting patiently. Dex indicated a seat at the bar and after a moment Maul sank into it, adjusting it slightly so it was higher. Dex said nothing. He was still a little guy, and Dex rather thought he always would be.

Just made him easier to underestimate, Dex thought with amusement. He pulled the chopsticks that were used typically for this dish from behind the counter and indicated one of the eels. “May I?”

“Please,” Maul said. And then paused, frowning. “Do you…need something to drink?”

Dex turned his attention down to the eel once again, sniffing briefly at the absolute mess of spices. The heat that assaulted him made him rather think his nose-hairs were curling.

“You know, that’s probably a good idea,” Dex said with a nod, and went to push up on the counter, when Maul held a hand out in a stalling gesture.

“Which?” Maul asked.

“Blue milk, I think,” Dex said, “higher fat content.”

“Probably wise,” Maul answered, but instead of getting up like Dex had initially thought, Maul raised a hand and…

Oh.

That…perhaps explained why Tiq knew who he was.

Dex watched as the fridge opened by itself, the blue milk drifting over towards them as a glass was pulled down, both objects placed before Dex as Maul flicked his wrist briefly, shutting the fridge door.

“Thank you,” Dex said, Maul looking at him briefly, his yellow eyes flickering with something unidentifiable. Dex poured himself a glass of milk, carefully smelling the eels one more time and deciding that he was going to die anyway… Dex picked one up using his chopsticks and after a moment of thought, staring at the cream soup base that was still steaming… Dex wound the eel around his chopsticks tight and promptly put it into his mouth.

The first thought was that the eel was actually really nice. Good fresh flavor, and given that it wasn’t trying to bite him at first bite it was a nice experience… The second was that the flavor was actually markedly pleasant. The garlic and onion had heightened the chili flavor and given it a good richness… The flavor was actually nice.

And then all Dex could taste was heat.

It burned in his mouth it burned when he swallowed it and it burned going down.

Dex found himself leaning over the counter with all four arms braced doing his best not to cough up a lung, immediately feeling sweat break out all over his body, a prickling sensation of utter HEAT blooming all the way through him. The cup of milk was hovering before him then and he wound up taking it, guzzling it down and then pouring another glass, holding that in his mouth, watching in something bordering injury as Maul easily took one of his eels up, wound it expertly and stuck it in his mouth, sucking it down like a long noodle. He smacked his lips once and then frowned.

“Needs more pepper oil.”

Dex spewed the milk, absolutely losing himself in a burst of laughter, agony and delight mixing in his soul, taking the milk that Maul held out to him and drinking it.

“You’re insane, kid, you got some Mandalorian in you or something? Where the hell did you ever develop your taste for that?”

Maul went silent, fiddling with the cup of eels, and Dex immediately waved a hand while his other wiped his mouth.

“Never mind,” Dex said, “I’m just…I’m glad to see you. I’m glad you’re okay…taste for that notwithstanding.”

Maul’s mind was in a tumult.

There were so many thoughts, so many things he wanted to say, to ask, but…

Maul did not know how to talk about what had happened. He did not know how to talk about Meltch, or…or…

Dex was…glad to see him.

Maul did not understand.

But he also…Dex had asked him about Mandalorians.

Maul was aware of the fact that Tiq was there.

Maul was aware of the fact that he was watching.

Maul had no reason to tell Dex anything. He had no reason to tell who he was or what he had done. Dex had told him he did not need to. But Maul had been standing on the edge for so long and in that moment, sitting in a Diner that had felt safer than anything that Maul had ever known, by someone that had tried to protect him, to look out for him, and someone who had…never… Tiq had never betrayed him.

Maul could trust him.

Maul knew he could trust him.

In his heart of hearts… Maul knew.

“It…is a Mandalorian recipe,” Maul said softly, his lips numb, his voice so low he didn’t know if Tiq could hear him…

But Tiq had stiffened.

“I used to…make it with the one that taught it to me. It was an easy meal…something that would give me the protein that I needed and provide the extra stimulation for a growing carnivore…” Maul licked his lips, tasting the remnants of pepper oil. “It burned then. I remember that it did. But he called it good and I…learned. Eventually I found I liked it, too.” Maul paused, quiet, quiet… “I bit the heads off for him,” he said, “every time he tossed them over I would bite their heads off and he would clean it. It taught me to be quick and decisive. If you hesitate too long the eels will bite back and that’s not particularly pleasant.”

“I can’t imagine it would be,” Dex said, leaning up against the counter. “What was the guy’s name?”

“Meltch Krakko,” Maul said, and even as he said it…something in his chest gave way, his breath hitching in his chest. “His name was Meltch Krakko.”

“Krakko,” Dex rumbled, “that’s a name I haven’t heard in years… Death Watch was lookin’ for him a while back, tryin’ out all the avenues they could, but…”

“I killed him.”

Silence.

“My Master…brought me to Orsis Academy,” Maul said softly. “Meltch was one of the teachers and he looked at me and… I was too young. I could not have been more than six, and I stood in front of these people twice my age and my weight and my height… I took them down like they were nothing and Meltch took an interest. I had thought…it was because I was skilled. Now I believe…it might have been because…he was frightenedfor me. What person takes a child and teaches them how to kill a grown man by the time they’re five. What person takes a child and brings them to Orsis to teach them how to become a killer?”

Maul stared at his hands, taking in the red of his own skin lining his bones…the red that his hands had been covered in again and again and again, enveloping the black of his tattoos, taking back his skin.

“I did not know what he was doing,” Maul said quietly. “I did not understand why he would take such an interest…why he was teaching me how to cook…teaching me his language, the Gods of his people, their stories… I did not understand. I could not understand. I knew that I was the best in my class, I knew that I was strong…but I could not understand why he spent more time outside of that. Why he gave so much to me. Why he tried to help me, to talk to me. I did not understand. He was not the only one, either. There were others…a Nautolan girl…her name was Kilindi. She had been a slave. She killed her Masters. She escaped.

“I…think she was my friend. I think she was my friend and the first friend I had ever had. I remember…how much she seemed to care about me…I did not understand that either. It was a weakness. All of it was a weakness. Their care…killed them. For perhaps if they did not care they would not have…” Maul trailed off. “All the time my Master was watching, and he saw all and he knew all and I could not hide and I could not run and he saw me. He knew what I was doing. He knew about them. He knew I was learning to…care about them and he knew…” Maul swallowed. His mouth burned.

“Meltch hated Force Sensitives,” Maul said. “I know he did, I knew he did…my Master told me to never show it and I…I did, I slipped, and he looked at me and I thought…I thought he would hate me. I thought he would hate me; I was so frightened in that moment. I was so certain that he would tell my Master and I would be punished. I thought that Meltch himself might hate me, but he stared at me and he… Put his hand on my head…he put his hand on my head, between my horns and held me and told me that it would be okay. It would be okay, he wouldn’t tell…it would be okay… He knew that I was afraid. He knew that I was afraid and he put down his hatred…he comforted me and told me that it was okay and I did not understand. I did not understand…

“Meltch gave me a helmet…” Maul breathed so softly, and he heard a soft sound from Tiq, saw the way Dex’s knuckles whited out underneath the tattoos that graced them as he clenched his fists briefly, “a helmet that was perfectly fitted. He held it out to me. He held it out and he asked…he asked if I would go with him. If I would leave. That I did not have to be hurt anymore. That I did not have to be with my Master. That I could go with him and see the Galaxy and I would be safe.” Maul swallowed. “I did not understand. I did not understand what he wanted and what he was trying to do and I could not understand why I would… I ran. I ran and my Master…he found me. That was the day…when he told me that I was ready for the next step. That was the day of my final test.

“He told me to kill them. All of them. Teachers. Students. Staff. Everyone I had known. Everyone I had known for years of my life I was to kill…I was to kill them.

“I did it. I killed…all of them. I looked into her eyes, and I strangled her, and she did…nothing. And Meltch…he took off his helmet. He took off his helmet and he stared into my eyes, and he apologized… ‘I’m sorry, ad’ika,’ he breathed… ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t enough.’”

Maul was shaking. He was shaking and he could not see he could not…he could not hear there was nothing and no one and he was cold and he was hot and he was…

“I do not know what ad’ika means. I do not know why he called me that. I do not know why he was sorry.”

Maul licked his lips and the pepper oil tasted like vomit and his chest was heaving and his hearts were breaking and he…

“What does…what does it mean?”

“I don’t…”

“Please,” Maul breathed, “what does it mean?”

“Generally speaking…” Tiq’s voice came softly as though from a great distance, “it means…it means little one. It is…perhaps in reference to…” Tiq was quiet for a moment. “He called you son.”

Maul understood.

Maul understood and in that one moment.

Maul felt his hearts break.

And with it came something else. Something else rising up and choking and broken and…

Maul’s breath hitched, stabbing into his lungs and tightening in his chest and he could not breathe and he could not see, and he could not…

Maul’s hands went up to his face, reached up to his horns, pulling and…

And something deep within…

Finally…

Broke.

Dex felt like he was putting together a puzzle that had too many pieces. Too many things falling together and apart all at once, uncertainty filling him even as he listened to Maul speak of things that…

Five years old.

Five years old. Just a kid, just a tiny kid…small and angry and…deadly. Deadly.

What the hell had been done to him? What had been done to him to make him into something that could go to Orsis Academy…? And Dex knew Orsis. He knew what it was, what it had been – for all that was left was dust now…and the reason why was sitting right next to him. Right next to him and he had killed…

Teachers, students, his friend…

A buir.

A buir he hadn’t even known he had, that he hadn’t even been able to understand… And in all of this, that was the one thing that Dex recognized was that Maul had not understood. Had not been allowedto understand, was…

Maul’s Master had been there, and he had known, and he had made Maul kill the very thing that would have saved him.

And as Maul finally understood, as his eyes widened in realization, as he folded over himself like a felled tree… Dex felt his heart twist within his chest, unsure and uncertain and so…

His hand reached out, unthinking, perhaps, but he could not let this kid break alone, he could not…

But Maul did not know him. Maul did not know him, not truly, not really, and Dex did not want…

And then a sound came from Maul that made all of the feathers on his head rise, that made his heart squeeze and his soul break as a terrible, ugly little sob finally broke its way through Maul’s closed mouth, and then it broke into a wail, a thin, awful sounding wail that rose and rose and Maul fell further and further forward, and Dex reached out.

Dex reached out and caught Maul, pulling him up and close to his chest, wrapping his arms around him, one hand coming up to push Maul’s head towards his shoulder, feeling the brief sharp prick of a temple-horn, but as Maul pressed his head into his shoulder, as Maul’s wail finally broke into another series of terrible shuddering sobs… Dex didn’t care. Dex just held him.

It was an awful, ugly sort of weeping, the type that only came after being held in for so long, the type that bruised and cut on the way up. Dex was idly aware that Tiq was walking towards them, Maul’s hands scrabbled at the back of his shirt, claws pricking in and pricking skin, but all Dex could do was hush him, holding him tight, holding him close. Maul trembled against him, shuddering as he wept, and he wept for a man that was and a life that could have been and a life that would never be again.

Maul wailed and Dex held on, Tiq’s hand coming up and pressing to the back of Maul’s skull, threading his fingers through his horns, and holding, just holding, a presence and a reminder and…

Dex held on.

Dex did not know how long it had been, had lost track of time between the sound of the rain pounding on the roof and the feeling of Maul weeping into his chest, of those tears shuddering and stalling and finally stopping…stopping when he had no more left in him. Dex still held him, still waited with Tiq for Maul to either pull away or say something… But as Dex realized that Maul’s breath had evened… Dex closed his eyes and carefully worked on shifting the kid up into his arms properly so he could carry him.

Maul had fallen asleep.

Dex held him for a moment, thinking about where to put him, before finally walking over to a booth. For a moment he held him there, not really wanting to put him down, not when… Tiq slid into the booth, and Dex grinned, carefully maneuvering the table back with his lower arms while easily sliding Maul down on the booth sprawled next to Tiq, carefully positioning his head on Tiq’s lap. Tiq took a napkin and carefully dabbed Maul’s face with it, cleaning it of most of the tears, tracing his tattoos with an easy sort of familiarity, before hooking his thumb on Maul’s temple-horn.

Maul remained dead asleep, and Dex was slowly aware of the tears on his own face, of the tears he could see on Tiq’s. Dex offered Tiq another napkin, taking one himself and carefully wiping his own face, sinking into the opposite end of the booth, for a moment the both of them silent…so silent…

The echoes of that terrible wailing lingered, shattered, and broken, and Dex’s heart was so heavy in his chest…

That poor kid…

Dex ran a hand over his face.

“There a line to kill Maul’s Master?” Dex asked roughly, his voice quiet, and Tiq gave a brief sound, a smothered laugh, wet and just as rough.

“Oh yes,” Tiq said, and brushed his fingers along Maul’s temple. Dex had no doubt that a deeper suggestion had been slipped, a heavier feeling of sleep enveloping him. “It’s quite a long one. Though…in all truthfulness we do believe his Master dead already.”

“No less than he deserves,” Dex grumbled quietly.

Tiq agreed and quietly the two of them settled down to wait. There were things still to be said. Dex had questions, missing pieces…but truth be told he didn’t need to fill the full puzzle. Who the kid had been or what he’d done didn’t matter in the face of what he was becoming and who he was going to be.

That was enough for Dex.

Dex turned the sign on the door to closed sometime as it grew closer to early morning, drawing the shades and the blinds, the rain pounding away still on the roof.

The sleep it seemed was dearly needed, and neither of them would steal it from him.

Too much else had been stolen already.

Maul woke up slowly, the smell of grease and…coffee and…spice. A spice that was so…familiar and…

For a moment Maul was confused. He didn’t understand what he was smelling or why it was so strong. He did not understand why his chest hurt the way it did or why his eyes felt like they were coated in sand. And then he heard a soft rumble of a voice, “is he waking up?”

And Maul remembered.

Maul remembered everything. Maul remembered Eldra, remembered Meltch remembered…remembered Kilindi… He remembered speaking the truth to Tiq that had been there from the start of this and Dex who… Dex who knew so little, who Maul had barely even talked to, but who had… Dex who had been kind to him when Maul did not even know what that was.

Dex who had held Maul as something inside of him broke…and it still felt broken. It still felt hollowed out and scraped raw, and he hurt… He hurt.

And growing with that hurt was a feeling that Maul wanted to crawl into a hole and never ever come out.

What had he done? How pathetic was he? What sort of broken fucked up…

“Hey,” Tiq’s voice said softly, “are you awake?”

And that’s when he realized that he was apparently utilizing Tiq as a pillow, and Maul stiffened, before slowly pulling away. Maul sat up slow, completely unable to meet either of their eyes, his body, his soul so…

“Hey,” Tiq said, and his hand held out, easy, so gentle, with once again no expectations for him to lean towards or away. Maul leaned towards it. “It’s good to see you awake. You slept for…six hours?”

“About that,” Dex agreed. “Sun’s starting to come up.”

“I’m sorry,” Maul started, realizing he still couldn’t look at them, and he…

“Hey, no,” Tiq said, “none of that. If you had to sleep you had to sleep. Neither of us minded. We had a good visit. You slept hard.”

Maul closed his eyes.

“Maul,” Tiq said softly, “there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Nothing? Nothing when his mouth tasted of bile and when his hearts were trying to pound out of his chest, and he had vomited out so much…so much…

He had wept in someone’s arms,and he was… Maul hurt. He felt hollow and yet he hurt. So much had been said…so much had been said and it was out there, and it felt like he was waiting for a condemnation, for something to shut him down, for something to…

It wasn’t coming.

Why wasn’t it coming?

And then softly, so gently, “Can you…tell me about her?” Tiq asked softly.

Maul’s hearts lurched.

“Can you tell me about Kilindi?”

“What is there to tell?” Maul found himself asking, the words choked and bitter and so… “she was perhaps…the first friend that I have ever had, though I did not…I did not know that at the time. I did not know that she was my friend. I did not understand why she was being kind. Or why she would try… She tried to include me. She took me swimming…I hated the water. My Master had thrown me into an iced-over pond, and he stood there as I drowned and he did nothing and I struggled and I gasped and I pleaded… And yet…I did not mind being in the water with her. I did not mind swimming. I did not mind her company and I did not know why. I did not know why she tried so hard…” Maul’s breath hitched. “And when I killed her…I killed her, and she just smiled at me. Why…did she smile at me why did she do that, why would she have done that? Why didn’t she struggle or try and stop me or anything? Why did she let me kill her?”

The weeping had started again. The awful, hitched sound had started again and Maul could not… Why? Why now?

“Hey,” Tiq hushed, “hey, I cannot answer that,” he said, and Maul found himself once again folded up against someone as he scraped himself raw. “I cannot answer that.”

“I am poison,” Maul breathed softly.

“Hush!” Tiq pushed him back slightly, “Maul, what I said to you before has not gone…”

“But do you not understand?” Maul asked. “This is not the first time that someone has tried. This is not the first time that I have found people that have…cared for me, or tried to… Meltch…he tried to…he called me son…and I killed him. I killed him and I killed Kilindi and I killed everyone that had ever helped me. Why are you so certain that I am not just another knife in the dark? Why are you so certain that I have the capacity to be anything different?”

“Because I have seen it and I know!” Tiq’s voice had risen, his eyes flashing briefly, and Maul fell immediately silent. “Maul…” Tiq took a breath, clearly thinking for a moment before he looked at him once again. “Maul did you know that he called you son?”

“I…”

“Did you know?”

“…” Maul paused, staring at Tiq and quietly, softly, “no…”

“No,” Tiq repeated. “You did not, and I am just as certain that you did not know that Kilindi cared for you. Do you know why that is?” Maul was silent. “Because I know that your Master was there. Your Master who had trained you with a hole into your very mind that he could glance through at a whim. Your Master who could see every single thought that went on in your head when pressed into a certain mindset…your Master who could see what they were trying to give you. Maul…you cannot grow kindness…you cannot grow mercy if the seeds of that kindness and mercy that are planted within your garden are plucked up by the birds the moment they are introduced to the soil, and that is exactly what your Master had been doing. You have had someone there the entire time looking over everything that you have been doing and everything that you have been thinking since you were an infant. An infant, Maul. That man molded your steps and your thoughts since before you could walk, and if you do not see what a fucking miracleand a gift it is that you can be sitting here in this diner and having this conversation with me is I do not…” Tiq held his hands out to him as though pleading and then sighed.

“Maul,” Tiq started again, “Maul…” he rubbed between his eyes, and then held out his hands. After a beat Maul took them, and Tiq smiled at him. “The very moment you learned what an open hand was…what it meant…you have always taken them,” Tiq said softly. “You have taken the hands that reached out to you when you realized they were to catch you…when you realized that they were kind and what that meant…when for the most part every hand that has been held out to you has been a hand that was meant to hurt you, to strike you. Do not curse yourself for not knowing what an open hand was when your Master was looking over your shoulder and whispering lies in your ear. Do not curse yourself for the fact that your Master literally stole every single piece of kindness you have ever known… The instant you knew what it meant…the moment you knew what was happening you have reached and kept reaching, and I do not know how to tell you that this is something that amazes me every single time. I was afraid when we first started that we would never get to this point, but I gave it to the Force…and I gave it to you. I let you prove me wrong. I let you show me that even with all of the hurt that has been done, all of the death that has been fed into you… You have constantly chosen life. You chose the possibility you would get in trouble for violating your parole in order to try and protect us. You have held our younglings and have read to them and guarded and loved our secrets, and once you knew what kindness was you have found it within yourself to scatter it around you without even realizing it. Do not steal the grace away from yourself that has been given. Do not take the grace Kilindi and Meltch both gave you and throw it away. No one can blame a slave for the orders of the Master, not even the ones that they hurt. I do not. Do not blame yourself in their stead.”

Maul stared at him, shock, and something so much…when the tears came again they no longer felt as though they were cutting him on the way up. For the first time in Maul’s life…for the first time they felt freeing, though that hollowness remained. And when Tiq pulled him to his chest and held him, Maul sank into it and did not let go.

“It is going to still be hard, Maul,” Tiq breathed softly, “it will sometimes be hard, and you will sometimes wake up and you will curse your feet and where you go but listen…when that happens I want you to talk to me, or talk to someone, and know that it is wrong. If you find you cannot tell yourself that go to someone who can, someone you trust not to lie to you. You will still have bad days…but let us work on them.”

“You’re always welcome here,” Dex’s voice rumbled through, and Maul almost jumped, looking to the Besalisk that had always…had always shown him kindness, had always cared even when, once again, Maul had not known what it meant, and… “you’re always welcome in my diner and with my people. No matter what hour, alright, Maul? If you find you need a change of scenery then consider this available. And I gotta tell you, spiciest thing I ever did eat,” Dex dipped his head towards the remains of the eels, long gone cold. “But you didn’t poison me,” Dex smiled, and Maul found himself smiling back, broken, and shifted, but it was there. “I…I’m still so glad you’re alive,” Dex said softly. “We mourned you…it’s good to know that you’re still here. Hermione will be happy when I tell her, and so will FLO.”

Maul stared at him for a long moment, finding that even this… “You mourned?” Maul breathed.

“Of course, we did,” Dex answered, his voice a low rumble. “We grieved. I was certain…I was certain I was never goin’ to see a hooded figure grace my diner again. I’m grateful that I was wrong.”

Maul…stared at Dex for a moment, taking in the way he was looking at him, the gentle kindness on his face, and… “I did not think…that anyone would mourn me,” Maul said softly. “Not before…”

“Well…” Dex smiled, “you were wrong. And the next time you come here I’ll make those eels the way you were taught. And the way you taught me.” Dex smiled. “If people like it extra hot…maybe I can even put it on the menu. It’ll…be like a legacy. Something shared. Something good.”

Maul stared at him, feeling his hearts twist in his chest and softly, brokenly, “I think…I think that would be good,” he breathed. “You do not have to bite off their heads.”

Dex rumbled a laugh and reached a hand out that easily eclipsed half of Maul’s head, his fingers spread to not just let his ear free, but slot between his horns. “Thank you,” Dex said, “I appreciate it.”

Maul smiled, and for a moment let himself rest there.

When he finally pulled away they took a breath and Maul found himself slowly rising to his feet, stretching, watching as Tiq and Dex both carefully pushed themselves to their own feet, stretching and grumbling.

“I’m glad that I paid for nicer seating,” Dex grumbled, “oof…”

“It was a glorious business expense,” Tiq said, stretching his back out with a series of cracks. “Oh, that felt good…”

Maul laughed, a free sound, and wiped his face briefly.

“Well,” Tiq rumbled. “I think we ought to be heading back to the Temple.”

“You both sure you don’t want to stay with me for breakfast?” Dex asked. “I make a mean omelet…”

There was a pause, “Well…” Tiq hummed… Maul looked to him, his brows rising slowly. “Twist my arm why don’t you,” Tiq grinned. “I’ll stay for that.”

“And some other goodies while I’m at it,” Dex grinned, “holdin’ off the citrus for the Zabrak.”

“Thank you,” Maul said.

“Of course!” Dex called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the kitchen. “I wouldn’t own the diner if I didn’t put the effort into keepin’ from poisonin’ my regulars.” Dex graced them with a brief grin through the window. “And besides, I’ve seen enough Zabraki gag when citrus is near ‘em to know that ain’t it.”

The laugh that came was easy, and Maul settled down next to Tiq, content to wait. The breakfast that eventually was brought out was large and warm, and Maul…was content in a way he had not been in a very long time.

When they finally left for the Temple, Dex opening the restaurant after calling Hermione and starting FLO back up after spending the night charging, Maul was…Maul was warm.

As they approached the Temple… Maul became aware of something.

When they were finally close enough he knew.

Maul had remained shielded the entire way to the Temple, but as they finally entered the parking bay, Maul allowed himself to reach out, leaping out of the Speeder before it had fully touched down and hearing Tiq’s call of surprise from a long way off.

That Darkness was back within the Temple…

That Darkness was even bigger.

Maul called Cin.

Something was wrong.

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