Darkness Chapter 1: Part 1, a star wars fanfic

This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade. If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

General Disclaimer: Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors. Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse. I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

Details:

Name: Darkness

Time Frame: Post-NJO

Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

Summary: An accident changes Kyp Durron. Better than the summary, I promise, but I can't give too much away.

Rating: PG to PG-13

Post: Post 1 of 4

Story Status: Complete

As always, reviews are appreciated.

Part I

*~~~*

He sometimes wondered if his entire life had been spent in the embrace of darkness.

When he had been a child, back when his childhood was still unspoiled by death and grief and memories a child shouldn't know, darkness had been soft and gentle. Nightfall meant security. He had been able to look out into the dark night sky, safe in the knowledge that his parents were watching over him, that his older brother was only a whisper away. Darkness merely hid his family; he was confident that when the skies lightened and banished the darkness, his family would still be there.

Then came the darkness of Kessel, where he had no family. The perpetual night of the mines, the years of life without a glimpse of natural light, where the dark was harsh and enveloping. He had never feared the blackness. It had been a constant, something that crept into his mind with every blink of his eyes. He grew comfortable with the darkness, learned to live with it, let himself adapt to life in the dark. He went days- weeks- months- at a time without light when the generators failed, and he found that he didn't mind. Natural darkness was better than artificial light. That's what he had told himself when he found himself lurking in the shadows, turning his face away from the bright and painful glare of searchlights and guidelines. He had welcomed the smothering darkness even as he sought to escape it.

He had somehow survived Kessel, somehow escaped the darkness. Light had been painfully bright and glaring, the sun blinding and harsh to his little-used eyes. Sight had never been so important before. He found himself most at home flying, himself a speck of light surrounded by the darkness of space. Black space was strangely comforting- the darkness he was comfortable with and light enough from the stars to see by.

He sometimes thought that it was because he had grown so used to darkness, because he was so comfortable with it, because he wasn't afraid of it, that he had fallen so completely into its grasp.

It was ironic, really. He had spent most of his life trying to escape the two forms of darkness that he had learned to become comfortable with.

He had hated Kessel not for the darkness but for the lack of freedom, the lack of family, the lack of anything important.

He had hated falling to evil not because it was the Dark Side but because what he had done had taken away family, taken away friends, and destroyed what was important.

They were nearly identical now, those two different parts of his life: the darkness merely covered acts that he was ashamed he had completed. The darkness smothered out his family, lost him the trust of his friends, made him destroy any chance he had of ever being fully accepted. And yet the darkness itself, the darkness that had led him to deeds he always sought to escape from- the darkness always felt welcoming. Inviting.

The call of the Dark Side was still seductive, even after all the years since his fall and return. Somehow he ignored it.

The whispers of physical darkness were even harder to resist, and so he did not. In the black night he could stand and feel the dark around him and recognize both his comfort within it and his longing to escape it. Darkness was where he thought the best. It was a safe haven, a way to remind himself that he was alone. A way to tell himself that he had fallen, and needed to never fall again.

Each time he left the darkness to return to lit corridors and glowing guidelights and blinking keypads, it was an affirmation of sorts, his own private triumph over the darkness. He had fallen, and he was living with that. But the darkness, comfortable as it was, had no claim on him. He had escaped back to the light. He continued to escape every time he reentered brightly-lit hangers or turned his X-wing out of inky space into the light of a star. Each pinpoint of light celebrated his escape and proved to himself that the darkness would never again claim him.

Light banished darkness.

He had said as much to her, years ago, back when she too had fallen and redeemed herself. And she had been the first to truly understand what he meant. Maybe that was why she had come.

*~~~*

He sometimes wondered if it was some form of cosmic retribution.

"I don't want your pity," Kyp growled out, not bothering to turn and face her.

She snorted. "Good, 'cause you're not going to get it." She came to stand beside him. "I'm here to help."

"Go away."

She laughed. "Nope. And I'm just as stubborn as you, so if you're going to wait for me to leave, we're going to be standing at this viewport for a while."

He did turn toward her then. "Jaina-"

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him; after an uncertain heartbeat, he pulled her close and allowed himself to hold her.

"I'm not leaving," she said fiercely, her head tucked against his chest. "You won't be able to get rid of me."

He inhaled, breathing in the conflicting scents of X-wing grease and some perfume he couldn't recognize, and let out his breath on a sigh. "I don't want you here."

Jaina's lips curved against his chest. "Yes, you do. You're just trying to pretend you don't."

She was right, but he didn't want to admit it. He lifted and hand and ran it down the smooth expanse of her hair, felt it catch in the tangles toward the bottom. He gave in. "How long do you want to stay?"

"Until you don't want me anymore."

Part of him rejoiced at her words- she wouldn't be leaving ever again- even as he grinned down at her and teased, "Well then, I'll help you to the spaceport."

She slipped away from him and lightly punched his shoulder. "Oh, shut up. You know what I meant."

And since he did, he softened his tone. "I did." He paused for a moment. "Thank you."

If the admission surprised her, it didn't show in her voice. "You're welcome. I've been through this before myself- well, sort of, for a few weeks- and I just figured you'd want someone around." Her voice lightened. "And since I'm one of the few people you can tolerate-"

"Hey," he growled, and swatted out at her with his hand to bat her away. He missed, and she stepped forward and took his hand in hers.

"Let's get going," she said. "You're probably sick of the medical bay by now."

"Yeah," he agreed, and allowed her to pull him away from the viewport. "Are they going to let you take me out?"

She laughed. "Oh, I think they'll release you to me," she replied drily. "I mean, I am only your former apprentice, only a Jedi Knight, only a Rogue veteran..."

"And they're probably all too glad to get rid of me, is that it?"

"Close enough, Durron. Let's go."

He was blind.

Days later, when the awkwardness was beginning to fade and the fear and frustration were beginning to set in, he had asked her why- truly- she had come. "Because I remember being blind," was her response. And then, "And I know what it is to fear being claimed by darkness." She understood. And so she stayed.