She took his hand for the first time in, well, he really didn't know how long, and her hands felt every bit as warm and fitting as they always had. "Come, sit with me." She led him to the starboard dormitories, which they'd claimed as theirs not long after she finally admitted she loved him. She sat beside him on their bunk and laid her head on his shoulder for just a moment.

"What did you want to show me?"

"You just had to spoil the moment, didn't you?"

"So, you're planning on showing me your underwear, then?"

"Only if you learn your lessons well, flyboy."

"Only your underwear?"

"Well, you might see what's underneath if you're very good." There was that grin again, and not the slightest bit of hesitation this time. He wondered what she saw now when she looked at him.

He didn't have much time to think before her hands were in his hair again, and her lips brushed his; before something much stronger than the old wanting took over and he slammed her onto the mattress. She stared at him, those eyes suddenly frightened as he shredded her robes at the seams and turned her tanksuit into ragged ribbons. He wanted… It was more than desire—it was need, and he threw off his own jacket and unbuckled his pants in a single fast motion. Force, she was beautiful. And she was his. She'd always be his. It was time to show her just how much his she was. She drew in a ragged breath before he pounced on one dusky rose nipple and chewed away on it, remembering just how it had felt in his mouth the first time he'd ever seen her completely nude on Citadel. She cried out, and once, he might have known whether it was in pleasure or pain. But now, her cries energized him and he stabbed his way into her without stopping to feel whether she was ready. Next, he found her lobe as he pistoned in and out of her and he didn't hear her groan. Instead, he felt her heat on him and he had her just as he'd wanted to for so long… He devoured her as he'd wanted to for months and as he invaded her, he felt like he was a conquering hero. He thought of nothing other than the suddenly still woman beneath him, and that brought him to a stop just as he was about to let go of all the desire he'd kept pent up. Still? Motionless. That wasn't like her at all.

He looked down and she looked away from him just as the other, his last Jedi, had. She'd broken out in red spots all over her body. No, not red spots—they bore the marks of teeth and her lips had split at the corners, leaking a small rill of blood into her open mouth. She said nothing as he gasped, and every bit of desire fell away from him as the horror took over. She didn't just bleed from her mouth, and her wrists bore deep red finger-shaped indentations that he knew she'd be wearing as black and blue bracelets in a day if she didn't heal herself. And suddenly, he felt the caffa he'd slammed down that morning before Revan forced him to spar return like acid to his throat. Not just the caffa, but breakfast. And not just breakfast, but dinner from the night before, and a sudden rush of tears. He shut himself in the fresher while she bled and lay silent and when he was through heaving, he stared at himself long and hard in the mirror.

Power. Was it all he craved? Was it worth what he saw? Or what he left behind on the bunk? He looked worse than he had that morning when he'd dared look at himself for the first time in days. Older. Grey. And the veins…

"Atton." She wasn't weeping as his last Jedi had. "Open up—come on!"

He couldn't face her. He couldn't look either. He stood slack jawed as she banged on the door.

"Please, Atton." Her voice broke. He reached out for her thoughts and felt nothing but compassion. She knew his reaction, then. And he didn't deserve it, any more than he deserved power or than he deserved life.

"I'm going to sit here until you open the damned door, even if it takes months. So you can either make it fast or slow, but I'll be here either way." No anger in that voice, even if he wanted her to rage at him, to blame him for wounding her. It was that same inhuman calm air she'd had as she'd listened to his first confession on Nar Shaddaa.

He stood there panting, the breath hissing in and out of him like knives. And then he mustered what little courage he had left and cracked the door open. She stood, still nude, still marked, and almost unbearably beautiful as she turned to face him. She said nothing, but held out a single unflinching hand.

"Why are you still here?" he managed, though he didn't have the courage just yet to take her offering.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Why, Jay? Why, when I can't do anything but hurt you?"

"I don't take vows lightly. Now, are you coming with me, or are you going to spend the rest of the day in the fresher acting like an idiot until that damned schutta returns?"

"…in the fresher."

"You still have a little Force trick to learn, and you're making it awfully hard for me to teach you. I mean, I could try to teach you through the door, but I'm no Jedi Master, so I'll probably fail miserably. Imagine Kreia laughing at me. Or Vrook. Or Kavar. I don't think I could stand the humiliation if Revan joined in the mocking fun."

He let the Force flow through him to heal her, but ended up gasping when he felt himself drained with that pathetic effort. If he was going to see her, he couldn't bear to face the marks he'd left on her. And then, almost despite himself, he burst out laughing. He'd fallen far, too far, to deserve her little joke. He opened the door and reached for that hand that still waited for his. Strange to feel that lift when she grabbed first his hand and then him about the waist. He'd forgotten that quiet strength she'd leant him since he'd first met her.

"Sit," she said, and he knew that, somehow, she'd even forgiven him his attack. "I'm going to show you what I should have showed you a long time ago. Remember when I showed you that vision I had in the tomb, and that power Visas taught me?"

He nodded. He knew what he'd see when he'd look at her through the Force—the bright blue he'd once shared with her.

"You need it now, more than ever. Close your eyes and listen to the rhythm of my heart." Slow, steady, just as she was. "Now, listen to the breath as it moves in and out of me."

He felt it, as he felt her, warm, and almost aggressively bristling with light. "Do you feel the texture behind their union? Hold it, for a moment, and then take a step back. What do you feel? What do you see?"

Yes, it was the blue. Blue contained in those heavenly curves he'd just about destroyed with his need. He let it drift over him as the water and the air of Telos had. He felt it in him, and he remembered, if only for a moment, how it was to be that himself. And then it faded, and he was sitting on hard, cold metal with a shivering, naked beauty next to him.

"Good. Try once more." This time, it came more easily, and he held the image just a bit longer.

"Again, and this time, look at your hand."

Why? He knew what he was going to see. But he still summoned this new power once more, and stared at the redness before him. He wasn't quite what she or Revan had been in that vision, but he wasn't just pale pink either. He was further gone than he'd thought, and his heart froze as he realized just how wrong he'd been in keeping the truth from himself.

"I… Jay…"

"I know. But now that you see the truth of what you've become, we can change it. It's never too late to change your ways."

"I hurt you…"

"Nothing permanent. You needed to see what you've become. And now that you see it, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know how to give up the power I've gained. And Revan…"

"We can handle Revan, but we have to stay together. It won't be easy, but you've turned yourself back from the dark side once before. You can do it again."

"I'm not strong enough to keep the power contained. Why? Why do you still care?"

She stood and then sat right by him, her heat almost torment as he felt it against his arm. And then her arms were around him, and her lips pressed against his bared chest. "Maybe because I love you. Maybe because the man you've locked deep inside you is one of the sweetest, most caring men I've ever met. Maybe I just want the company. Maybe I want someone I can joke around with. Maybe I want you to figure out the reason."

"I wanted to be strong enough to protect you."

"From what?"

"From Revan. From these Sith."

"And so you turned to Revan… You are a fool! I think we should take the Hawk back to Coruscant right now—and damn the galaxy, damn the Republic, damn everything except ourselves. That schutta can find his own ship and do his own dirty work with that damned droid at his side."

And I know you'd never do that… "I'm an idiot, all right. Just when I thought good 'ole Jaq Attarand was gone forever…"

She looked at him and then she gave him that grin once more. "So, after a good three years of knowing you, I finally find out the name you left behind."

"I left 'Atton' behind."

"I think 'Atton' is sitting with me right now, for the first time in at least a month."

"Maybe… if he isn't gone forever."

"Just remember, I'm Jainia Rand, not Jainia Attarand, and I never will be. You are who you want to be. Do you want to be this 'Jaq?'"

No, he didn't, not really, not when sitting and talking as they once had felt so right. "What do I do to bring 'Atton' back?"

"Well, first, you're going to finish taking off those clothes. I mean, you hanging out of your pants like that is kind of a unique look, but…"