Title: Need To Remember
Characters: Jag, Jaina, and Mara
Genre: Drama
Disclaimer: I borrowed.
Notes: This was written in response to a fic gift request for the 2011 Fic Gift Exchange... and I got the title from a song lyric. Not sure what the song is, exactly. Request involved Jag having amnesia and there needing to be a kiss and a stabbing. Really.
They watched the dirty and disheveled man mumble incoherently to himself for long minutes before the woman sighed and turned tired eyes on her aunt and Jedi Master. "They can't be serious."
Her aunt handed her a piece of flimsy with a sigh. "I had them check the results three times, Jaina. That really is Jag. Your guess is as good as mine for how he ended up like this."
Jaina's frown deepened as she watched him, only just beginning to feel the familiarness of the man on the other side of the transparisteel. "He'd never allow himself to get that filthy and unkempt, Aunt Mara."
"DNA doesn't lie," Mara reminded her. Jaina nodded, turned on her heel, and started for the door. "Where are you going?"
"To talk to him."
"Need to remember," the man muttered over and over again. "Need to. Need to remember. Remember..."
"Remember what?" a female voice asked, causing him to blink and look to find a dark-haired woman watching him with brown, concerned eyes.
There was something about the expression on her face that drew him in, made him want to stand up, but... all he could do was sit at the table in the little room with the one-way window (he wasn't sure how he knew that the mirror wasn't actually a mirror, but he did) and stared at her. "I... don't know. But need to. It's important."
She sat down opposite him, put a flimsy on the table between them. "Here's something to remember, then. This is you: Jagged Fel."
He glanced down at the flimsy, noting the holo of the clean-cut man in the uniform. Intrigued, he reached out and traced the holo with a finger. "Jagged."
"Jag."
The shortened version of his name made him flinch and a memory of a woman with blue skin, laughing in a way that gave him chills and sitting on top of him surfaced. He shook his head and began to rock back and forth. "Need to remember. Need..."
Her hand on his arm drew him back to the present. "That's what we'll do. Help you. But you have to let us. Understood?"
He nodded slowly. "Blue. Laughing. On top."
She frowned. "Blue?"
"Head tails." And then he grabbed her, pulled her closer across the small table, and kissed her. When they parted, she was looking at him in surprise. And pain. "Message."
They both stared at the dagger sticking out of her hand and into the surface of the table. "Jag?"
"Message," he repeated and looked away.
Suddenly, another woman, this one with red hair, rushed into the room and pulled them apart, gently prying the knife out of the table, but not pulling it out of the younger one's hand as she did so. "Jaina, go get that taken care of. Now." Jaina nodded and, wincing, left the room.
Jag looked up at the red haired woman, confused. "I..."
"I know," the woman told him without malice. "You don't know. You don't even know what you just did or why you did it. Have any more weapons?"
Her question was met with silence as he continued to look up at her blankly.
An hour or two later, hand now heavily bandaged, Jaina rejoined her aunt at the observation window. "He didn't mean to do that."
"No," Mara said after a long moment of contemplation. "He didn't. Had two more knives on his person, too. How's the hand?"
"I'll live."
Mara glanced at her. "Someone wanted you to get a message. I think we both can figure out what the message was, don't you?"
Jaina nodded slowly. "Yes." She stared for long minutes at the man on the other side of the one-way window, now rocking again and muttering incoherently once more. "I want my husband back, Aunt Mara."
Mara pulled her into an uncharacteristic hug. "I know you do, Jaina. I know."
On the other side of the one-way window, Jagged Fel continued to mumble to himself. "Need to remember... need..."
