Savin' Me Part 1

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: The lyrics I use in this fic, as well as the next part, are from the song "Savin' Me" by Nickelback. I was listening to the song, and I felt the lyrics could be linked to both Atton and a Female Exile, if just symbolically. Enjoy!)

Prison gates won't open up for me

Atton swore to himself as he opened his eyes for the tenth time that night. Around him, the other male crewmembers lay sleeping peacefully, which only emphasized his lacking the same luxury. Outside the walls of the ship, he almost swore he could hear the humming of the life that encompassed Nar Shadaa. It was a familiar sound, a sound that seemed intent on pulling him back into its midst, allowing himself to be lost among those who were lost.

Switching positions so he lay on his back, he stared up at the stark ceiling of the Ebon Hawk. He folded his arms placidly behind his head as he tried counting Pazaak cards in his head to force himself to fall asleep, his eyes starting to grow heavy with the effort at such a late hour.

Switch the +1/-1 card, you get 14, switch the +2/-2 card, you get...Atton, listen to me...

FRACK IT ALL! He sat bolt upright, a sheen of sweat forming on his brow. He slowly wiped the moisture away with a trembling hand before lying down to attempt sleep again. This time, the memories were visual; behind his closed eyes, he could see her green ones, pleading with him to listen to her, to let her save him...

Gritting his teeth in frustration, one clenched fist beat the mattress beneath him, as though blaming it for his sleeplessness. He shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, his mind filled to capacity with memories that threatened to strip away his sanity.

For all his other faults, he wasn't stupid. He knew the real reason behind his sudden insomnia, knew why sleep was as difficult for him to obtain as a krayt dragon pearl.

It was her. The ghost of the Jedi he had killed so many years ago. She was haunting his mind, his memories, and had been doing so ever since he had confessed his painful past to Kabrina after their travel through the Refugee Sector. Every corner he turned he could almost see her hiding behind. Every brown-haired human female he passed caused him to do a double take, for they all resembled her in some manner.

He knew she was dead, had seen her die with his own eyes, had felt her die in his hands. Yet, a part of him wondered if she had truly died. For all he knew, she might have found a way to preserve her life even as he stole it from her -hell she might even be searching for him at that very moment. His mind knew such a thing was impossible, yet his heart wanted to believe it might be true, perhaps as a way of salving his wounded conscience.

He ground his fists into his eyes, trying in vain to banish his memories of her to their place in the darkest corner of his mind. Yet they continued to resurface, forcing him to confront them even as every fiber in his being longed to turn and run, to forget them permanently. The memories swirled in his mind like shapeless ghosts, and no amount of pleading or begging from him would make them cease their relentless tormenting.

On these hands and knees I'm crawling

Oh, I reach for you

Silently, his remaining rational thoughts screamed for Kabrina, pleaded with her to somehow hear him and come to him. Yet he kept himself from vocalizing those words, even as the relentless assault on his mind continued unabated. He still resisted seeking the aid of the Exile even as he dropped to his hands and knees, tears streaming down his cheeks as he struggled against specters he had no defense for. A part of it was concern for her; after all, why should she be made to carry the burden of one as wicked as he? Another small part was his own pride, which kept him from seeking help for what he swore he could handle on his own.

The biggest reason, however, was fear, plain and simple. He had never told her the true depth of his past actions, and with good reason. He was afraid of Kabrina discovering the truth about his past depravities, feared her judgment on the atrocities he had committed. While he had hurled insults at her for her actions during the Mandalorian Wars, she at least had ceased fighting after the war ended, even if it was through no reason of her choosing. He, on the other hand, had continued fighting under Revan, had embraced destruction and war as easily and gleefully as one embraced a winning Pazaak hand. He had seen no reason to turn from it --and indeed did not wish to- until that Jedi came for him.

Well I'm terrified of these four walls

These iron bars can't hold my soul in

Yes, it was a prison of sorts. One he had created for himself from the moment he boarded the refugee transport to Nar Shadaa. With each round of Juma juice, each nameless woman, each Pazaak match, he built the walls of that prison that much higher, fortified its walls to make it that much stronger. It was both a prison and a sanctuary, a place to hide from the galaxy around him, while at the same time taking refuge from the memories of a life all but destroyed by evil. A life that had snuffed out another because of that evil, even as that other tried to warn him of what he served.

And then, instead of listening to her words, instead of turning from his destructive path, he only walked further along it. He was too blind to see how he was destroying himself from the inside out with every life he took, with every enemy he cut down, with every Jedi he slaughtered. Too late did he realize, even as he held her broken body in his arms, the price of his own destruction. He was the one who was supposed to die for his evil acts, not an innocent woman who only sought his salvation from the eternal darkness his soul was careening toward. Yet a sacrifice had been demanded for his redemption, and that debt was paid in full, though his heart was heavy with the question of why he couldn't have paid with his own blood instead of hers.

He had tried to lock those memories in that prison he created in his mind. Tried to forget they had ever happened, that he had been responsible for the deaths of countless enemies, both real and supposed. He tried to lock away that part of himself, the darkness that twisted around his heart like a poisonous vine, whispering venomously that he could never atone for his past, that he would always be branded a murderer. He tried to become an entirely new person, a person whose past was like a blank slate, ready to be written on, even as those old memories struggled to be freed from their prison.

In the end, they succeeded. The moment they had entered the Jedi Academy on Telos, when they were confronted by the women in white, those reinforced prison walls cracked, allowing their contents to begin peeking through. The probing of the Jedi witch Kreia, who recognized his past for what it truly was, further eroded them. Now that he had confessed his past sins to Kabrina, those walls were completely broken down; leaving him no defenses against the memories that threatened to destroy not only his sanity, but his life as well.

All I need is you

Hurry I'm fallin'

He pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to dispel the memories even as they congregated in every corner of his mind. Gritting his teeth even more tightly, he focused every ounce of his will toward regaining control of his thoughts.

'K...Kabrina.' He uttered harshly through his clenched teeth. He no longer cared what she found out, or how she judged him. He only wanted peace from the memories that dogged him, wanted to feel her comforting presence at his side, making him feel as though he could stand against any threat.

As her name left his lips, he felt a small sensation of peace entering the back of his mind. It chased away the ghosts, if only for a few moments, allowing him some time in which he could catch his breath. Feeling as though the weight of the galaxy had been lifted from his shoulders, he relaxed slightly, a wave of weariness passing through his tightly clenched muscles as he released them somewhat. He remained on his hands and knees, his mind abuzz with questions about the source of that peaceful warmth.

A smile quirked at the corners of his mouth as the answer came to him as plainly as though it was written on the wall in front of him. Kabrina. He wasn't sure how she had done it, but she had helped him, even from her place on the other side of the ship.

It was at that moment that he realized he had always known there was something special about her. From the first time he had laid eyes on her scantily clad figure in the doorway of the prison on Peragus, he had known that about her. She had a way of speaking; a way of holding herself, that was both inspiring and persuasive. He had told her many times before that he found her presence calming, and he still did.

Show me what it's like

And I'll show you what I can be

Even with his mind more at ease, he knew sleep would still evade him that night. Reaching into a pocket of his jacket, he pulled out his Pazaak deck before leaving the dormitory, making his way to the cockpit. Sitting in the captain's chair, he idly shuffled the cards through his hands, an automatic action that helped him think.

He wondered what it might be like to stand on the side of good as evil was defeated. The thought had crossed his mind before, but it was an errant one that he chased away easily as being 'frivolous'. Of course, he thought that of anything that did not aid in either his Pazaak game or his Juma downing.

Now, however, he felt that thought take on an importance of its own. Whatever was going to happen, it would put Kabrina in danger. He knew it. He had always wanted to be seen as the hero rather than the fool; yet he had never been presented with the opportunity to make such a thing happen. Now he was certain he was along for a reason besides flying the ship. He had always had an inkling there was no such thing as coincidence, now he was almost sure there wasn't. He had told Kabrina that he felt the Jedi who died for him sacrificed herself so he might be able to meet and aid her on Peragus. Although he hadn't been sure of his role in the situation at first, that quickly changed when she had announced she was going down into the mining tunnels to try and figure out how to escape the Administration level.

Say it for me

Say it if it's worth saving me

Was it worth saving me, Kabrina? Is it worth having me along? Can I save you from whatever's to come?

His hands stopped shuffling the cards as his thoughts turned more fully in Kabrina's direction. She had never told him she needed him, yet here he was. Surely with the Zabrak and the Miraluka at her side, she would be more than well protected against any threat. Yet she had not asked him to leave, she had insisted he stay to aid them, even going so far as to argue with Kreia over the latter's designating him a fool.

He smiled. If it hadn't been worth it to her, she could have left him on the Republic ship, or even in the force cage on Peragus. He theorized that if she had felt he was only useful to her for help to escape the mining facility, she would have left him behind on Citadel Station as she flew to Telos' surface to search for the ship. Either she enjoyed his company, or she felt he was anything but useless on this mission. He used to think she had to tell him she appreciated having him along. He no longer felt that way; knowing in his heart that she was grateful for his aid, whatever it might be.

Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to see the sleep-weary eyes of Kabrina Gamon staring into his. They stared at each other for several silent moments before he cleared his throat.

'Good to see you.' He said, holding up the Pazaak deck in his left hand. 'How about a game, Republic Senate rules? I'll even let you deal first.'

Seeing her features shift from a weary stare to a gentle smile warmed his soul. He knew now that she felt his life was worth saving. One day, he swore he would tell her the entire truth about his past. He swore he would never withhold anything of that nature from her again if he could help it.

But that could wait. All he wanted to do right now was play Pazaak with her.