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Chapter Text

Melida/ Daan. I will never get the blood off of my hands. It clings to me, it follows me into my meditations, into the clean halls of the Temple. I will never be like the other Jedi. Pure. Good. It had been a month since Obi- Wan had returned to the Temple. People stared, treated him different. Qui- Gon was distant. What if I’ll never be a Jedi Knight? It’s not fair. First the Republic sends us to fight and then tells us to leave for reasons that only make sense to politicians. I should’ve just left. I know my defiance put the Order in danger. Obi- Wan had never felt more like a slave than he did when he realized that he couldn’t help the Young even though the Force told him too. He did stay but ultimately he went back. I can’t slip my leash. The Republic will always own me, own us. I felt more free with a collar around my neck on Bandomeer. At least it was more honest about what we were. He remembered when he returned and Bant hugged him, her salty tears wet on his neck. “They can’t let the Jedi get ideas,” she’d said. “They cut rations here, said they might execute you. But Master Yoda convinced them not to.” 

He was supposed to be meditating with a group of senior Padawans but he was failing miserably. Finally giving up, he opened his eyes and met the eyes of a Kiffar Padawan, who it seemed was also struggling to meditate. Suddenly, he felt a surge of pain in the Force. The other Padawan’s suffering swamped him. Weirdly, it made him feel less alone. I’m not the only damaged one. 

“I’m Quinlan,” the other boy said. 

“Hush,” the Jedi Master leading the meditation, an ancient Duros who Obi- Wan was pretty sure hadn’t left the Temple since before he was born, said. She fixed them with a disapproving red gaze. 

“Want to get out of here?” Quinlan whispered. His brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

All of the sudden, Obi- Wan did want to break the rules. He nodded.

Quinlan vaulted onto a tree limb above them and vanished into the canopy. Obi- Wan followed him, the ancient Master yelling indignantly after them. 

The Kiffar boy stopped, crouched on a tree limb across from Obi- Wan. “You’re Obi- Wan, right?” His yellow tattoo, a bright slash across his brown face, glowed in the shade.

“Yes.” Suddenly, Obi- Wan didn’t know what he was doing. He should’ve been meditating, following the rules, being- playing - the dutiful apprentice. 

“I can’t meditate anymore,” Quinlan blurted out. “I thought maybe you were like me.”

Obi- Wan opened his mouth and then closed it. How could he describe how he felt? How the serenity slipped from his grasp, like trying to hold a stream of water and feeling it run away in his hands? “I can’t meditate either,” he said, finally. I’m a failure. 

“We can both not- meditate together.” Quinlan grinned, crookedly.

A laugh bubbled up in Obi- Wan and escaped his lips. I haven’t laughed since- since Cerasi died. 

Somehow they wound up talking for hours, hiding from their Masters. Obi- Wan learned that Quinlan hadn’t been raised in the Temple. Master Tholme had found him in the Kiffar sector and had been training him, but when his parents had been murdered he brought him to the Temple. Obi- Wan confessed more about Melida/Daan than he had told anyone, including Master Qui- Gon. 

That meeting turned into many more. They made each feel less alone. One night, Obi- Wan awoke to find Quinlan sneaking into his bedroom. “Quin,” he’d hissed. “Master Qui- Gon is in the other room.”

“They’re with Master Tahl,” Quin told him, his voice strangely flat. “I- I can’t stop feeling their deaths.” He didn’t have to say who he meant, Obi- Wan knew. “Master Tholme and I just came back from a mission and a couple was murdered in front of their child, it brought all the memories back.” Quinlan had told Obi- Wan how he’d felt his parents’ murders on a level beyond that of other Jedi. He literally relieved their deaths when he touched their bodies. He knew exactly what they felt and thought during their last moments alive. 

Obi- Wan made a split second decision. “Come here.” He beckoned the other boy into his bed. Quinlan threw himself at Obi- Wan and buried his face in Obi- Wan’s chest. Hesitantly Obi- Wan had wrapped his arms around Quin. After that, they’d always come to each other when the other had a nightmare. 

Quinlan was always so confident that they’d be together forever. He’d come back from a mission with a tiny Twi’lek child on his hip. “Obi, this is Aayla. She’s going to be our daughter Padawan,” he’d announced. Obi- Wan had blushed. He didn’t have Quin’s surety that they would Bond and raise Padawans together. He was still haunted by Cerasi dying in his arms. Maybe I’m destined for infinite sadness. Qui- Gon lost Tahl. How does Quinlan know we will always be together? 

“Master T’ra says that we can love without attachment for however long we have each other. She knows every time Tholme goes on a mission, they might not ever see each other again.” Tholme was a Jedi Shadow, a spy whose deep cover missions could span years. One day, Quinlan would be a Shadow, too. He shifted Aayla in his arms. “I love you, Obi. Nothing will ever change that.”

“I love you too,” Obi- Wan confessed. 

“Yay!” Aayla grinned, revealing sharp, pointed teeth.  Obi- Wan looked at her more closely, noting the lack of ear cones. 

Quinlan must’ve noticed him looking because he said, “Aayla’s a girl. She knows and the Force knows.”

“Of course,” Obi- Wan agreed. “It’s a good thing she’s here. She might have a harder time in the wider galaxy.”

“We rescued her from a slave auction. But she’s Jedi now. We will keep her safe.”

I hope that’s a promise you can keep. 

“We will teach her how to keep herself safe and trust the will of the Force,” a deep voice said behind them. 

Obi- Wan started. It’s Master Mace. But Quinlan just grinned. “This is Aayla. Aayla meet my brother, Mace.”

“Don’t forget to introduce me.” A Chalactan woman came up, Depa, Mace’s former apprentice. 

“Never,” Quinlan said. “I’d be much too frightened to forget you.” 

Aayla ate up being the center of attention and Obi- Wan found himself watching Quin instead of her. He imagined their future, imagined raising Padawans with him. 

Master Qui- Gon is dead. Master Qui- Gon is dead and I have a Padawan. Obi- Wan glanced at the little tow- headed boy beside him. How am I going to do this? He felt like that lost apprentice returning from Melida/ Daan all over again, despite the fact that he was about to be a knight. Quinlan met them in the Temple hangar bay as soon as they arrived. Aayla was beside him. She had, as Quinlan predicted, become his Padawan, and as soon as Obi- Wan was knighted and Bonded to Quinlan, she would be his daughter, too. Quinlan pulled Obi- Wan into a bear hug. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears pricked Obi- Wan’s eyes, but he refused to break, not in front of Anakin. “This is Anakin Skywalker, my Padawan.”

“You mean our Padawan,” Quin said, automatically. Not for the first time, Obi- Wan was amazed by his betrothed’s heart. He accepted Anakin without question. 

Aayla’s brown eyes lit up and she immediately pulled Anakin to the side and started talking to him. Which was good for a number of reasons. Obi- Wan wanted to break down in Quin’s arms and he didn’t want Anakin anywhere near Darth Maul when the Temple Guards removed him from their ship and took him to his cell. Somehow the Sith apprentice had survived being chopped in half. It had taken every ounce of Obi- Wan’s Jedi training to save the Zabrak’s life and bring him to the Temple to face justice. He wanted him to pay for killing his beloved Master. 

Quinlan ran soothing hands down Obi- Wan’s back. “You’re safe now, love. Qui- Gon will always be with us. He’s so proud of you. I’m sure he and Tahl are watching you right now.”

Chapter Text

Obi- Wan was tense, brittle, beneath Quinlan’s hand, as if at any moment he would shatter. The Dark Side swelled around them and Quinlan realized they’re moving the prisoner. He felt a wave of admiration for his betrothed that he flew on that ship with the Sith apprentice on board. 

And yet beneath the darkness there was an undercurrent of pain that almost bowled Quinlan over. It felt familiar and Quinlan shuddered. 

Four masked Temple Guards wheeled the prisoner out. He was strapped to a gurney. Dark robes swathed his upper half, concealing him mostly from view, but then he turned and his gaze met Quinlan’s. Searing golden eyes found Quinlan’s and he finds he has to look away. His hands tightened on Obi- Wan’s robes. Release your fear into the Force, he could hear his Master’s voice in his head. 

Suddenly, the Force screamed a warning and then something slammed into Quinlan and Obi- Wan. Quinlan caught a glimpse of a Temple Guard mask and then- “It’s the Sith!” The guard hollered and Quinlan saw. Somehow despite the Force inhibiting collar that Darth Maul was wearing he had Force pushed the guards away from his gurney and exploded his restraints outward away from him. Obi- Wan surged towards him and Quinlan could feel his anger in the Force. He moved to intercept, not wanting Obi- Wan to do something he will regret. Darth Maul dragged himself across the hangar floor towards him, face twisted in a rictus of hate. How is he even conscious? Let alone moving?

“I stopped you before. I will do it again,” Obi- Wan’s voice was full of rage and pain and it makes Quinlan’s gut roil to hear it.

The Zabrak snarled and Force pushed Obi- Wan backwards into Quinlan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Temple Guards moving in. Then, he felt it again: the suffocating agony, a pain he didn’t expect to feel from a Sith. As the guards moved to restrain the prisoner, Quinlan reached to assist.

“Quin, your hand!” Obi- Wan called out a warning too late. My glove must’ve slipped. Quinlan’s bare hand touched the apprentice’s arm and the agony swallowed him whole.

“Quinlan!”

He is a tiny child. Someone is striking him with a training saber on the highest setting, just enough to burn, not enough to permanently injure. “Get up,” a voice says. 

And he knows it is Master.

The training continues. A torrent of broken bones, burns, whippings, chokings, cage fights.

He is burning with a fever. He knows if he doesn’t get out of bed and get to the medicine, he will die. Master is testing him. I cannot be weak. I cannot. 

He stands perfectly still as his body is tattooed. The process is painful, but he must show Master how strong he is. I am his instrument to defeat the Jedi. I am vengeance. 

A jungle planet. A white face. A woman weeping. A baby wailing. Was I something- someone- before Master?

It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is Master’s plan. 

“Quin.” Someone was shaking him. Quinlan realized he had collapsed in Obi- Wan’s arms in the hangar bay.

“The medics are on their way,” Obi- Wan said, but Quinlan wasn't entirely listening. His face was wet with tears and his heart was pounding in his chest. He could still feel the fear the Sith apprentice- Maul- had for his “Master.” His gut heaved and for a moment, Quinlan thought he was going to be sick, but then he mastered himself. Those were not my memories. He focused on the sensations around him. The feel of his robes, of the hangar floor, the smell of engine oil, the calluses of Obi’s hands as they caressed his hair. And yet he knew that he’d never forget what he’d seen in Maul’s mind for as long as he lived. 

He smelled a salty, ocean scent that he has always associated with Bant Eerin, just as the Mon Calamari healer apprentice bustled in. She squatted down by Quinlan. “Obi- Wan is always getting you into trouble isn’t he?” She joked, but her silvery eyes are sad and Quinlan knew she can sense his suffering, so he made an attempt to conceal it.

“Always,” he joked back, but it was hollow. “What’s going to happen to the prisoner?” he blurted out. Behind him, Obi- Wan stiffened.

“They have him under guard in a cell, deep in the Temple,” Bant answered. “The Council will interrogate him later. That’s what Master Fisto said anyway.” Kit Fisto had taken over Bant’s training after Master Tahl’s death and he sat on the Council so this was likely true, but suddenly Quinlan couldn't let the Council interrogate Maul without telling them what he saw.

“I- I saw in his head.” Quinlan tried to find the words. “We can’t just lock him up and throw away the key. His Master, I’ve seen him, kind of, he’s,” Quinlan can’t find the words. 

“The Council isn’t without compassion,” Bant said. “But maybe you need to tell someone, like Maste Saa or Master Windu.”

Quinlan shot up and then swayed, off balance for a second, Maul’s ghosts still swirling in his head. Bant steadied him. 

“Why should it matter what the Council does to the prisoner?” Obi- Wan asked, coldly.

Quinlan turned to meet his betrothed's gaze. His blue eyes were full of pain and unJedi- like anger and Quinlan floundered to find the words to explain himself in a way that wouldn't hurt Obi- Wan further. “Obi, the Sith Master took him as a child and molded him to be a weapon. I’ve seen his memories. It was sick.” He didn’t have any choice. Quinlan didn't say that aloud, though. It felt too cruel. Quinlan knew Obi- Wan was still deeply mourning Master Qui- Gon because of what Maul did. Master Qui- Gon won’t be there to cut Obi’s braid. They’ll never see Anakin’s knighting or Aayla’s. And yet, Quinlan knew on some level that the terrible Master from Maul’s memories was the one who is the most at fault for Qui- Gon’s death. 

“I need to get some air.” Obi- Wan pushed past Quinlan and walked out of the hangar, leaving Quinlan staring after him. 

“Obi- Wan is hurting and he has Anakin to consider, too. He’s about to be a Knight. His life has changed overnight,” Bant said, compassionately.

“I know,” Quinlan said. “I have to support Obi. But, I’m a Jedi and I can’t turn my back on Maul’s suffering, either.”

“That’s very brave of you,” she replied. 

Is it? I can still feel the phantom hands of Master on me. I don’t feel brave. I feel weak, sick and worthless. 

The scream tore through the cell block and Quinlan flinched. He hurried down the corridor. “What’s happening?” He asked Bant.

“I think the Council has started their interrogation,” she responded, grimly.

“Bant, Quinlan,” Master Fisto turned an unusually somber face towards them. “You should go. This is not something you want to feel.”

“You need to stop,” Quinlan blurted out. The Force crackled around him, like a lightning storm. 

Kit’s black eyes widened. “We need to find the Sith Master.”

“I’ve been in Maul’s head. Please slow down,” Quinlan begged. “I can tell you things I saw. He was a prisoner, like us.”

Bant sucked in a breath. Kit stared at Quinlan, hard. But he met the Nautolan Master’s gaze without flinching. Finally, he said, “I will speak to the others.” Kit swept away.

“The Republic takes us as babies and trains us to be Jedi and the Sith Master did the same thing to him,” Quinlan confessed. Bant looked impossibly sad in that moment, as the depth of what her friend was saying hit her. Quinlan continued. “I remember my home.” I remember my parents’ murder. “But most Jedi don’t. But we have kindness and goodness here. We have lineages looking out for us. He had a monster that beat him and hurt him.” Bant wrapped her arms around Quinlan and he shuddered. 

Pain. There was only pain. Maul had never felt agony like this. He knew his legs were gone. He wasn't quite sure how he was still alive. It must be the Dark Side. It’s not done with me yet. The light of the Jedi Temple burned at his defenses, lighting his nerves on fire. Will Master come for me? Does he expect me to free myself in the heart of our enemies? Maybe I will just die here. The thought had appeal. Just let go and stop hurting.

The Jedi Masters’ attempts to get inside his head increased in power. Maul’s head felt like it's going to explode. He tasted iron. Vaguely, he was aware of retching, then dry heaving. He knew he was drifting, like he would when Master would hurt him. Maul had little desire to return to his body. There’s nothing for me now. I failed Master. It would be better if I had died fighting the Jedi Padawan. 

Abruptly, the pressure in his head eased. He heard voices, felt a vague concern. No, stay away. Just let me die. I am filth. I am nothing. 

There was a steady beeping and sterile, bacta smell. A medical area? Of all the places Maul expected to awaken, this was not on his list. I should be dead or rotting in a cell. He halfheartedly took stock of his body. He was restrained to the bed. There was a tube in his arm and an oxygen mask on his face and probably other things, too. 

He had no legs. Maul went away for a while, unable to die, unwilling to be present in his body. 

“The Sith Master has made no attempts to contact him or search for him, as far as we have been able to ascertain. He’s been abandoned,” Mace told Quinlan, as they stood in the Halls of Healing, outside of Maul’s room/ cell. “It’s possible the Sith Master has another apprentice. It’s very concerning. There are many shatterpoints surrounding all of this.”

Quinlan regarded his lineage brother, somberly. “What will happen to Maul?”

“The Chancellor wants us to keep him prisoner. We’re the only ones who can hold him.”

“I see.” Quinlan didn't know how he felt about that. On the one hand, Maul would never be free, never learn if he could be more than what his Master made him. On the other hand, he couldn't kill anyone else if he stayed in the Temple. But it also meant Obi- Wan would always know he was here. 

A Twi’lek Jedi healer bustled over. “Master Che,” Mace said, respectfully. 

“Master Windu, I’m here to check on Maul.” She fixed Quinlan with a gaze that made him feel like she knew the connection he had to Maul. Quinlan looked down at a random spot on the spotless floor. “He’s not doing well,” she admited. “He disassociates and has no interest in recovery.”

“Perhaps it is for the best. We don’t want him escaping,” Mace said, reluctantly.

“Master Windu,” Che chastised. “Jedi are called to be compassionate. We shouldn’t want anyone to be a suicidal husk for the rest of their lifespan. He’s younger than Quinlan.” She threw the last bombshell out, before going into Maul’s room. Mace looked discomfited. He looked at his brother, as if imagining his barely knighted lineage brother going through the things he knew Maul had gone through. Quinlan had read the medical reports. They had matched everything he’d seen. Maul’s whole body was scarred and his bones had evidence of fractures, dating back to early childhood. 

Suddenly, an alarm went off inside the cell. Quinlan and Mace rushed inside. Maul had torn his own wrists open with his fingernails. Dark blood was splattered all over the bedsheets. Master Che was trying to pin him down and staunch the bleeding at the same time. “Don’t just stand there!” She yelled. “Help me!”

Quinlan checked that his gloves were secure and then grabbed one of Maul’s arms and put pressure on the rough gash on his wrist. Maul bucked weakly, trying to get away. He wants to bleed out, Quinlan realized, but the blood loss was clearly getting to him. His struggles were weak and his eyes were hazy and unfocused. Mace got more medics in and they sedated Maul. At some point, Quinlan started muttering a stream of soothing Jedi mantras, things Master Tholme had said to him, things he said to Aayla when she woke up from a nightmare. Maul relaxed on the bed. Quinlan regarded his face, suddenly realizing how young the Zabrak looked, beneath the harsh tattoos. 

Master Che arranged for more medical droids to guard Maul and then turned to Quinlan. “Your compassion does you credit,” she said. “Perhaps you should visit him more often.”

“Thank you, Master Che.”

“You can call me Vokara. I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing a lot more of you.”

She was very right. Quinlan returned whenever he has a chance. He knew that other than Bant and Vokara, no one cared if Maul lives or dies. Even Obi- Wan didn't understand why Quinlan cared about Maul. 

“How can you feel sorry for him?” Obi- Wan finally yelled. 

“Because I can grieve with you and feel compassion for him at the same time,” Quinlan said. But he knew it was not that simple. He tried to imagine how he would feel if Obi- Wan were visiting his parents’ killer. He could feel a white- hot anger rise up inside him and forced himself to let it go. 

“How can you be so compassionate?” Obi- Wan’s voice was wrecked.

“You’re compassionate, too. You don’t have to forgive him to be a good Jedi. We’re all imperfect,” he tried to soothe his betrothed. 

“I want him to hurt,” Obi- Wan confessed. Quinlan carefully controlled his breathing. He pictured Maul staring blankly at the wall for hours on end, lost in a feedback loop of his own suffering. Obi- Wan continued, “And then I hate myself for being cruel.” 

Quinlan wrapped his arms around Obi- Wan and the other man let out a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry I’m not being a good enough Jedi or a good enough betrothed.”

“Obi, no. You’re grieving. It’s only been a few months. It will get better. We’ll Bond and you’ll train Ani to be a great Knight. But not as good as Aay,” he couldn't resist joking. 

Obi- Wan chuckled, wetly. “Our Padawans are quite competitive, aren’t they?”

Quinlan smiled. “They are. In all honesty, they will both be amazing Jedi, better than us.”

“Of course.”

“You might not ever feel comfortable with Maul being in the Temple, but as long as the Force wills it, I will visit him. I can’t just forget what I saw,” Quinlan tried to explain.

“I know. Your compassion is part of why I love you,” Obi- Wan said. 

Obi- Wan remembered how long it took him to care about Maul’s suffering. Maul remembered when he started coming to his cell. He remembered the mistakes Obi- Wan made, of course. 

( “How could you kill them?” Obi- Wan screams. 

Maul scrambles backward from the raised voice. It’s Master, it’s Master, his subconscious whispers. He wedges himself in the corner of the room. He can’t get enough air in. Something’s crushing his chest. Is Master back to kill him? Maul swears he can feel his Force choke. 

“Vokara! Quin!” Obi- Wan calls them in. Maul vaguely feels their touch grounding him. Quinlan is whispering some Jedi mantra and then Vokara injects him with something and suddenly he can breathe again. He sags against Quinlan. I wasn’t being Force choked, he realizes. I was having a panic attack. Vokara had been teaching him the names for the feelings and things that happened to him.)

But he also remembered all the times Obi- Wan was kind, bringing him tea and sitting with him, making him train and learn to use his new cybernetic legs. 

(“Why do you come here?” Maul asks.

“Quinlan is on a mission and he asked me to come check on you,” Obi- Wan says.

“And you always do what he says?” Maul prods. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” Obi- Wan says, smoothly, but Maul can tell the other man is uncomfortable.

“I don’t need your pity,” Maul snaps. No one cares about me, except maybe Quinlan. That isn’t true and Maul knows it. Vokara and Bant care, too, but they’re different. They are healers and feel compassion for everyone. Maul has felt it, the endless pools of compassion inside them. It scares him so he tries not to think about it. Quinlan is different. Quinlan understands. But why was Obi- Wan here? Obi- Wan should hate him. 

“It’s not pity. It’s,” Obi- Wan’s mouth twists. “I made the choice to come here.”

“Did you?”

“Do you disagree with everything I say?” Obi- Wan shoots back.

“Perhaps.”

By the time Obi- Wan’s allotted visiting time is up, Maul realizes that the numbness that’s always wearing at the back of his mind, wanting to pull him down and drown him, has receded. He feels invigorated. 

It is the first of many verbal sparring sessions with Obi- Wan.)

Obi- Wan and Quinlan were Bonded. Maul could feel the bond between them in the Force, like a strong braid of light, tethering them to each other. It must be incredible to be that connected to another being, Maul sometimes thought in moments of weakness. I don’t need anyone. No one would want me anyway. The best I can hope for is to be trapped in this Temple forever and maybe Quinlan and Obi- Wan will continue to visit me. It was a pathetic existence and yet the thought of leaving the Temple and being found by his Master was worse. As terrible as it is, being a caged animal forever was the best life he would ever have. It's more than I deserve. Most days, Maul had accepted this. But there are nights when in the darkness, the loneliness, the hunger, swamped him. He stored away memories in his mind of Quinlan’s gentle touches, strokes on his hands, his arms, training sessions with Obi- Wan. But it was a poor substitute for what they have and he knew it.

Chapter Text

The Clone Wars have enveloped the galaxy. Master’s grand plan started without him. Maul couldn’t bring himself to be too disappointed. It wasn’t as if he had ever been particularly invested in Master’s plan. Still, he felt useless, trapped like an animal in the Temple, while the tiny group of beings he cared about- Quinlan, Obi- Wan, Bant, even Aayla and Anakin, if he’s honest- are risking their lives. Sometimes he was entirely reliant on Vokara to tell him if they lived or died. Would life even matter if Quin and Obi- Wan were gone? Could I even go on? Vokara would say yes, but she doesn’t know me, not truly. They are all I have. 

And I don’t even have them. Not truly. 

Obi- Wan was sickened when he learned that Master Sifo- Dyas had commissioned an army of clones for the Republic. 

Master Dooku’s face went white. It’s the only outward sign of how upset he was. He’d loved Master Sifo- Dyas once, before his visions had consumed him. And this is the end result. An army of child slaves to fight the Republic’s war for them. To make things even worse, they’re clones of Jango Fett, the sole survivor of the massacre at Galidraan, Dooku’s biggest regret. Dooku disappears into the Outer Rim after that, taking missions away from the army for the first year of the war. It takes his former apprentice, Asajj, to convince him to come back. 

The clones were made to work with the Jedi. They weren’t Force sensitive, but they fit with the Jedi. Master Sifo- Dyas and the Kaminoans had manipulated Fett’s midi-chlorians so that the clones would form dyads in the Force with the Jedi they bonded with. It was beyond wrong, to take their choice away like that, Obi- Wan knew, and yet, the moment he met CC-2224, Cody, he knew. They were dyads. 

Quinlan wasn’t jealous. It wasn’t the Jedi way. “Hearts have infinite room. Besides,” he winks. “It’s more fun.”

“Only if he wants,” Obi- Wan said, sternly. 

Cody is almost painfully serious. Quinlan’s lack of propriety horrifies him, but not as much as Obi- Wan’s flagrant disregard for his own safety. Quinlan thinks he falls in love with Cody because of how protective Cody is of Obi- Wan. He knows that he was made that way, but he insists on owning it. “This is my life,” Cody says, in a rare moment of emotional vulnerability. “I can’t choose most things. I can’t choose the clothes I wear, the food I eat, the planet I live on, but I can choose this. I choose you two.”

Maul hates Cody. He hates that Cody is beside Obi- Wan during every mission, that he sees him everyday, that he shares his bed. He knows that Cody is a slave just like him. He knows if he were a good person, he wouldn’t hate Cody for something he can’t control. But he’s never been a good person. Vokara says that’s negative self- talk, but Maul can’t seem to shake it. He’s Sith. Master made sure of it. 

Obi- Wan and Quinlan love him. He knows this. But it’s not enough. He hungers for more. He’s greedy, selfish. (“It’s okay to want things,” Vokara tells him). 

“If the Council would allow it, we’d Bond,” Obi- Wan says, and Maul can’t breathe. Even though he’s laying in between Quinlan and Obi- Wan, their bodies twisted together, he still can’t believe what Obi- Wan’s saying.

“The other Jedi would be able to sense the Bond,” Quinlan continues the explanation. “We don’t want to get punished.” The only reason they’re able to have this night together is because Bant and Vokara pulled some strings for them. 

“Why would you want-” he can’t even bring himself to finish the question.

Obi- Wan rolls onto his side so that he’s facing Maul. “We love you,” he says, simply. “I know that I was unjustifiably cruel to you at first, but I love you. You’re a part of my soul, just like Quin.”

“I killed your Master. You should hate me,” Maul responds, bluntly. His stomach churns. 

“You didn’t have a choice,” Quin points out, gently.

Maul knows it’s true and hates it all the same. 

Chapter Text

They were cut off from the other troops. It’s all my fault, Obi- Wan thought. He had Force- jumped over a line of droids to disarm a bomb and Cody- brave, loyal Cody- had followed. I should’ve known he would follow me. 

Cody’s face was pale and set. “I’m fine,” he said, but they both knew that he wasn't. Someone had thrown a fragmentation grenade. It had blown through his armor. Bits of metal were embedded on his chest and legs. A major vein in his thigh had been hit and he’d been steadily losing blood. Cody leaned more and more heavily on Obi- Wan as they walked. Obi- Wan could feel the warm blood running down Cody’s legs. It made him sick with guilt. “The rendezvous point is just two clicks away.” 

“Of course, cyare. I’m sure we’ll arrive before Anakin blows it up,” Obi- Wan attempted his usual banter, but he felt it fell flat. Anakin would come in a heartbeat Obi- Wan knew, but he couldn’t not without jeopardizing the safety of the civilian settlement they were protecting from the Separatists. He longed to reach out to Quin, but his Bonded was in the Outer Rim on a secret mission and couldn't be contacted. Suddenly, he sensed danger. Obi- Wan stretched out his senses. Droids were on the ridge ahead! 

He opened his mouth to tell Cody when an IG- series assassin droid popped its cylindrical head above the rocky ridge and fired on them. Obi- Wan shoved Cody down, wincing at Cody’s involuntary whimper of pain. The blast hit Obi- Wan’s shoulder and he bit his tongue hard enough that he tasted blood to keep from crying out. I must release my pain into the Force. He stood up, igniting his lightsaber. Worryingly, Cody stayed unmoving on the dirt. The droid fired again and all of Obi- Wan’s attention turned to blocking the blaster bolts. I acknowledge my pain and let it go. More battle droids appeared. Obi- Wan continued to fight them off. How many of them can there be? It soon became clear that there were too many. Obi- Wan’s legs shook and sweat burned his eyes. A blaster bolt hit his knee and he went down on one leg. 

The assassin droid loomed over him. “Grievous will pay a good price for your head,” it said. 

Suddenly, Cody slammed into the droid knocking it over. He stabbed it through a gap between metal plates on its neck with a vibro- knife. When it stopped sparking, he stood up, looked at Obi- Wan and then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed faster than Obi- Wan could catch him. Obi- Wan stood over him, facing the remaining battle droids. Force give me strength. Cody was dying. Obi- Wan could feel it. If he didn’t get him to the rendezvous point, he was going to lose him. 

Maul was meditating in his cell on the Temple, or attempting to. He was restless. He hadn’t seen Obi- Wan or Quinlan in months. He knew they were alive, but that was all. At this point, he would give anything to be out there with them. Even become a Jedi. He wasn’t sure he believed everything they did, but he knew that he was suffocating in his prison. Maybe it's what I deserve. I was abused by Master, I know that now, but when he made me do things, kill people, hurt people, I did it. I enjoyed it, even sometimes.

Maul’s self- recriminations were interrupted by a flood of emotion hitting him like a tidal wave. Obi- Wan! They weren’t Bonded, but they were closer than they had any right to be and now Maul could sense Obi- Wan’s fear, sharp and bitter on his tongue. Maul pushed a question into the bond: are you hurt? What’s happening? He sensed Obi- Wan’s exhaustion and deeper still pain, but he was trying to hide it, so Maul couldn’t tell how hurt Obi- Wan was. Maul got up and started pacing. More information came through the bond. Cody was dying. Maul felt a rush of conflicting emotions. Jealousy that Obi- Wan was this devastated over Cody and sorrow because Cody shouldn’t be dying in Master’s war. 

Help me save him, please, Obi- Wan begged. Maul sank deeper into the Force trying to reach Obi- Wan across the lightyears separating them. He could feel Obi- Wan using his own weakening life force to keep Cody alive. Suddenly, the fear that Obi- Wan might die hit Maul harder than it ever had before. It took his breath away. I can’t lose him. He wished Quin were here. Quin could fix this. Obi- Wan shouldn’t die for Cody. The poisonous thought came unbidden.

Obi- Wan splayed his hands across Cody’s chest. He could barely feel Cody breathing. He was halfway gone already. Obi- Wan wasn’t the best at Force healing but he was trying to pour some of his own life force into Cody, his dyad. He could feel Maul’s fear at the back of his mind. Help me save him, please, Obi- Wan begged.

Obi- Wan shouldn’t die for Cody. Maul’s thought pulsed through the bond. Obi- Wan felt Cody’s heart stutter.

Hot shame filled Maul. My jealousy could literally kill him. The thought made Maul sick. I’m sorry. The words didn't come easy. Master had always said they were weakness, but Maul was trying to reject everything that monster had ever taught him. He poured his strength, his intent, across the bond. Let Cody live. Let them both live. 

Cody’s heartbeat got a little stronger. Obi- Wan could feel his life force growing slightly stronger. He stood, lifting the other man onto his back in a firefighter’s carry. Thank you, Maul. 

You shouldn’t thank me. Maul stayed connected to Obi- Wan until he made it to the camp. Cody was rushed into surgery and Obi- Wan collapsed. Maul could sense him sleeping. He came back to himself in a rush. Maul stood, breathing through the dizziness. I need to get out there. I need to be with them. 

Obi- Wan came back to the Temple shortly after but the circumstances weren’t what Maul wanted. He’d been poisoned and could only be treated at the Temple. Bant had told Maul. She was personally treating Obi- Wan. The gentle Mon Calamari had grown into one of the best healers in the Order. 

“I can let you see him tonight,” she told Maul. “It's my shift and I can sneak you in. It would be good for Obi- Wan and,” she looked at him, critically, “you too. When was the last time you slept?”

“You know I never sleep,” he said, lightly. “But thank you for sneaking me in, Master Bant.”

“You know it’s just Bant among friends.”

Is that what we are? He wanted to ask but also didn’t. He knew she had real friends, Jedi friends. She just pitied him.

“Stop brooding. You look like Cody,” Bant teased. “Obi- Wan will be fine, I promise. He’s strong and he has too much to live for.”

That night, Bant came and took him to Obi- Wan’s room. When they entered the room, Maul froze. Cody was sitting in a plastoid chair beside the bed, staring at Obi- Wan’s placid face like it held the answers of the universe.

“I didn’t know he was still here,” Bant said, softly.

Cody looked at them. “I know I should be in the barracks, Master Eerin, I just couldn’t leave him.”

Maul felt an uncomfortable kinship with Cody. He too felt he had no right to be at Obi- Wan’s bedside. 

“You’re fine,” Bant soothed, in her gentle voice.

“You must be Maul?” Cody asked, dragging another chair over. 

Slowly, like a wild animal Maul approached the other chair and sat in it. “Yes, I’m Maul.” 

They spent the night in silence, watching Obi- Wan sleep. 

Chapter Text

The war had been going on for nearly a year. It felt like longer. So many Jedi dead. Even down in his cell, Maul could sense the pain, the raw sorrow. The Jedi were not used to loss on this scale. And Sidious had enlisted new allies who posed major threats to the Jedi, like Durge and General Grievous. The Jedi were desperate enough to let Maul out of his cage, albeit leashed. 

Obi- Wan brought it up when he was recuperating from being poisoned. It was his last day of medical leave before he was due to ship out again and he had snuck down to Maul’s cell. “The Council has discussed sending you on missions.”

Maul’s breath caught in his throat. Hope bloomed in his chest, wild and treasonous. Don’t hope. You’ll only be disappointed. 

“In principle, I think it's unethical. You’re technically our prisoner. We shouldn’t ask you to go on dangerous missions, but I know how much you want to get out and we miss you. Even Cody asks about you.”

Maul carefully kept his face neutral as he digested this information. He had seen Cody several times when visiting Obi- Wan in the Halls of Healing. The commander had been unfailingly polite, even shy. Maul never knew what to say to him. It was clear he loved Obi- Wan and for that reason alone Maul found he couldn’t hate him, not anymore. 

“Do you want to go on missions? I can’t guarantee you’ll always get to work with me,” Obi- Wan continued.

“I want to go,” Maul blurted out, before he changed his mind. 

“They won’t let you have a lightsaber. I’m sorry,” Obi- Wan said, gently.

Maul pictured the double- bladed saber he had constructed and the face of the gentle old Twi’lek Jedi who had been his first kill and Qui- Gon Jinn who still haunted his dreams and decided he did not need to have a lightsaber. “I am still dangerous without a lightsaber,” he pointed out.

“I would feel better if you had a weapon,” Obi- Wan said.

Cody watched Maul out of the corner of his eye as he meticulously cleaned his deecee. The Zabrak crouched on an overturned supply container reading a datapad about the upcoming mission. Technically, neither of them were supposed to be in their commanding officer’s room during their sleep shift but Obi- Wan was leaving on a mission in the morning so both of them had snuck in to spend the night with Obi- Wan. Cody wished Quin were here, too. It would’ve been the first time the four of them had been together. The rightness of it touched something deep inside him. It made him feel complete. Even quiet, angry Maul was a part of them. 

But Quinlan was the reason for Obi- Wan’s mission. He had gone missing on Korriban while investigating something that Cody didn’t have a high enough clearance to know about. Obi- Wan was going to look for Quin, with Maul as his backup. Cody and a contingent of clones would stand by on a dropship with orders to destroy the facility Quinlan was investigating via orbital bombardment if Obi- Wan and Maul did not return after three days. 

Obi- Wan was meditating on the room’s narrow bunk. Cody felt it, like a tingle in the back of his mind, when Obi- Wan emerged from meditation. “I’m going to try to get some sleep before the mission,” he announced. 

Cody glanced at Maul, hoping the Zabrak would be comfortable squeezing onto the narrow bunk with them. It wasn’t even necessarily sexual. He’d slept in narrow bunks with his brothers when they were young back on Kamino. It made him feel safe, grounded. 

“Blast, would you two just get on the bunk,” Obi- Wan snapped. “I just want to hold you two. I’m worried about Quin.”

“Me, too,” Maul admitted softly. That seemed to thaw the atmosphere a little. Obi- Wan moved over so that Maul could lay on the side of the bed against the wall. It seemed like an unspoken agreement between them. It was the tactically sound spot, obviously, but Cody knew from Obi and Quin that it probably had to do with Maul’s “master,” who reminded him of the kaminise trainers that haunted his dreams. He climbed in on Obi- Wan’s other side. He didn’t mind. He liked shielding them from any harm that might enter.

It had been two days since Maul had gone in after Obi- Wan. Cody hadn’t slept since Maul had left, had ate mechanically. He feared the worst; that he was going to lose all three of his riduurike at once. 

The 212th’s clone captain Gregor knew about Cody’s relationship. He was the only clone who did and one of few beings in general who knew. Cody hated asking him to lie for him, but he knew Gregor would help him. The captain would cover for him while he tried to rescue his riduurike. The facility they had gone into appeared to be a bioweapons facility. Cody’s concern ratcheted up. Jango Fett himself trained you. The clone army are the best soldiers in the galaxy. You can get in here, he reminded himself. 

Quinlan was dying. His nerves were alight with a thousand sensations. Jenna Zan Arbor was developing bioweapons for the Separatists, but this lead had been a trap to catch him. She wanted to understand his psychometry. Her machine had induced his powers to a degree he had never felt. Only his connection to the Force had kept him from losing his mind. He could even sense Obi and Maul nearby. He prayed that it was a fevered byproduct of his dying mind. Force, don’t let them be here. Let them be anywhere but here. His mind cycled through a never ending parade of everything he’d ever felt. His brain returned to his parents’ death frequently, although the memories he’d felt the first time he’d touched Maul appeared frequently, too. Quinlan was fairly certain he had vomited several times. He had lost all sense of time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten or drank. 

Cody entered the cell through a ventilation shaft. He shot the security camera. The facility was manned by droids. He hadn’t seen a single person yet.

Quin was strapped to a medical bed. He was naked from the waist up. There were sensors attached to his arms and chest. He was pale and gaunt and sweaty. Cody pressed his finger to his carotid artery and felt the pulse strum unevenly beneath his fingers. He pulled his hand away and started taking the sensors off of Quinlan. Almost immediately the Jedi began to stir. He scrambled away from Cody, pressing himself against the wall, whimpering, eyes screwed shut. Cody stared at him, trying to think of how he was going to get Quin to calm down so they could escape. Tentatively, he pulled off one of his gloves and reached for Quin. He tried to think only of his love for Quinlan. He put his hand on Quin’s chest, right over his heart. Cody could feel his heaving breaths calm and his heart rate slow.  “C- Cody?” The Jedi Shadow opened his dark eyes and focused on Cody.

Zan Arbor got away, but Cody and Quinlan rescued Obi- Wan and Maul. Bar, the 212th’s medic, whose name was short for baar'ur, made all four of them get checked out in the medbay. Cody didn’t mind. They pushed their beds together and slept curled up together like a pack of akks.