Take Me To Church

[Anara Valnor]

Freedom is a funny thing and can come in many forms, but generally speaking it is viewed as a good thing. Unfortunately, that is not always the case.

Bloody, malnourished, and strung out on a dangerous cocktail of drugs a once vibrant woman clung to life and her newfound freedom. Her name? She couldn't recall; hadn't been able to for what felt like ages. The voices had told her once, though their names for her had been cruel, but now they were gone, stripped from her. How or why seemed immaterial, but the void they left was one that seemed to grow steadily larger by the day.

The ones that had taken the voices from her had dumped her on a world she'd once known, blocks from a building belonging to a man she'd once loved. They didn't particularly care if she lived or died, but they gave her a chance to reclaim some of what they'd stolen from her. The withered woman no longer recognized any of it or the chance afforded her; she didn't even recognize her own reflection. Drugs were the only constant now, the only way to chase the silence away. They'd been used to keep her manageable upon her capture and subsequent torture, but that was all years ago. Wasn't it?

Shambling along she struggled to recall why she'd left the dank alley she'd woken in. What was she searching for? There was a whisper, a Song she couldn't quite hear, that told her, but she couldn't keep hold of it long enough to sort it out. Muttering to herself, the redhead kept moving, amber eyes wild and dull as she looked at the faces that passed her.

 

[James Justice]

The blows kept raining through the air, the sound of cracking bones and flying blood filled the air. His begging pleas for mercy, desperate and raving between gasping breaths were interspersed. James watched as his three thugs battered the man suspended from the ceiling. A holorecord stood by the spacer capturing it all to broadcast later as a warning to those who would try to harm James' beloved.

What were his crimes? Murder and human trafficking. The crime lord had learned early on that ruling required an iron fist, one with which to grind those who murdered to powder.

The spacer rose, gripping the man's broken jaw and forcing him to look up at James. The beaters stopped, waiting as James glared down at the bloody pulp that had once been a man. "Ye kill my people, ye get no mercy. Ye hurt me people, ye get no mercy. Ye enslave me people, ye get no mercy. I will protect--" then he felt it. A presence familiar, but impossible. She had vanished, a long time ago. He lowered his head, feeling outward, through is city, searching to confirm it.

Yes. It was her.

With a flick of his wrist, the spacer snapped the man's neck, he turned and walked away briskly, his leather trench coat catching the wind, "Commander, I am stepping out, no one follow me."

"Yes sir, of course."


[member="Anara Valnor"]

 

[Anara Valnor]

Stumbling along on weakened bone and muscle the petite ghost suddenly found herself in a forest? When had that occurred? The city was mere steroids behind her, but as high as she was it was a wonder she could even walk.

The concern of how she'd come to such a lush and vibrant area was fleeting. Once more she was just wandering with no direction, chasing that whisper she thought she heard. It was trying to tell her something, but what? The voices would have known.

Suddenly tired the woman collapsed, the dignity she'd once carried herself with a distant memory. Or perhaps not a memory at all, but something that she'd simply imagined. On gnarled roots that bit into her pallid and scarred flesh she rested, waiting for the whisper to either make more sense or for death.

Eyes that are now almost a sickly yellow slid closed, features serene despite the way her skin clung to her bones.

[member="James Justice"]

 

[James Justice]

James moved out of the Angel's Den into the rest of Dal'Bor, the city that lived for the 24 hours of nightlife vice. His civilians heralded him with raised glasses, lit snubs of various substances and cheers as he strode through the streets. But he was busy, the leather clad spacer was onto a trail, one he had long left dormant. As he drew closer, the spacer felt her presence grow stronger.

At last he came to the end of the city where the surrounded forest was. the street carried on into the foliage. Here part of the city had once stood, before Rose Blade bombed it with her turn-coat ways. He shook his head, It seems to be a day of me coming to terms with bad memories then.

It didn't take him long to find her. Her face, her hair, was unforgettable. He had dated many redheads and several sith in his day, but still, this one was unforgettable. He gave her a nudge in the Force, testing her body's condition.

"Priority 1, Emergency evac, drug spec, full kit on my location," James barked into his wrist comm, "Ye got three minutes before heads start rollin."

Waves of conflicting emotions exploded over James. He didn't know what to think, or what to feel anymore. Anger, doubt, fear, confusion, and everything in between. There were more questions than he could ask, and more answers he needed than he had. With a rageful shout he slammed his fist through one of the trees, crippling it and making it fold in two. A few moments later the paramedics arrived and carried Anara to Justice First Hopsital's ICU.

[member="Anara Valnor"]

 

[Anara Valnor]

Barely aware of the presence so near her the woman slipped into unconsciousness, her soul, sick though it was, reaching for the one so close to it. One it knew well.

~ ~ ~

Weeks later vibrant amber eyes fluttered open to glaringly harsh lights, a frown immediately settling on her once serene features. Anara struggled to recall anything, but came up with only disjointed memories made even more hazy by the lethal cocktail of drugs she'd been on. Who had even given her those drugs? Their faces were featureless and their voices garbled, but that was probably the point right?
They'd stolen the should of Byss from her, leaving her cold and alone, trapped in her own mind. She'd likely never find the culprits.

Shifting in the less than comfortable hospital bed Anara was acutely aware of everything she hadn't been before. She was herself once more, to a point at last. She was still too thin and needed to recover from years of being drugged, but she'd survived far worse. She had no strength to speak of, but the Force was not lost to her. Moving with far less grace than normal she slipped from the bed, reaching for her chart attached at its foot. She needed to know where she was before doing anything further.

Instinct told her that she was currently safe, but for how long?

[member="James Justice"]

 

[James Justice]

The Graveyard fiasco was over. His body was broken, but still mending. His heart was battered but still in tact. Within the past few weeks, James had been brought to the brink of death, seen his dead wife's ghost, confronted his mortal nemesis, and almost lost his brother yet again. He was weak. His body was haggard as he leaned on the railing of the perch. The small town of Second Chances stretched around him like a idyllic land of dreams. Children played in the yards of their suburban homes. shops stood on corners, mothers had talks in the sun of Soceras and it was just so normal. James wondered what it would be like to settle down at last. To stop running, to stop fighting, to quit battering down doors and finding the answers. He supposed that was in part what he was trying to find out with Patricia--or as she was more commonly known [member="Miss Blonde"].

"My lord," a voice said from behind.

James didn't stir, he kept his ahead, on the window before him, "What is it, Katsumoto?"

"The red haired one. She wakes."

"Hmmm?"

"The one who came here before Avokin. The one you found drugged?"

"Mmm," James grunted with a nod, "Take me too her."

He was haggard, drawn and different as James made his way into the hospital room. She was looking at the clip board at her bedposts but even now, more blind than not, James could recognize her. She hadn't changed much, even in this small town hospital that James had her moved to. It was still very hush hush, as she was checked in under Janet Doe.

"Been a long time, Anara," James said at last, he nodded to Katsumoto to give them privacy and the bodyguard left with a bow. He tilted looking back at the redhead, "I honestly never thought I'd see you again." he shook his head, "Seems the galaxy is bent on me finishing up old bets this year. Sit down, ye must be uncomfortable."

James pushed himself forward through the door and glided to a stop near the bedside. He gave a tired smile as he folded his hands on his lap.

For you see, James Justice, was in a wheelchair.

[member="Anara Valnor"]

 

[Anara Valnor]

The mixture of drugs that had been flushed from her system had been lethal. Or they would have been for a weaker woman. She found it curious how her former captors had thought to drug her so; had they intended to kill her or leave her as an addict once more? It hardly mattered and just as she was perusing her chart for the information concerning her whereabouts a familiar voice reached her ears.

Amber flashed as she looked up sharply, the sharp movement sending a wave of dizziness to nearly buckle her knees. Damn. She had forgotten what it was to be alone in her own body, what it was like being so weak. For a moment her eyes couldn't focus, but when they did it felt like she'd been stabbed through the gut. The years had not been kind to James and rage bubbled up in her gut; a rage aimed at those that had taken her and at her own inability to escape them. Her pirate had fallen so far and she hadn't been there to catch him.

Years might have slipped by them, but she still recalled what they'd had as if it'd been only a few weeks ago. The pain was fresh and she latched onto it along with her anger, using it to strengthen her withered form. She didn't say anything or even move, her eyes glued to his. Was failure forever meant to be her legacy?

When Anara did finally move it was to approach James, a thin hand reaching out to cup one cheek. Her expression showed none of the anger she felt, only sorrow and regret. "I never meant to leave you," she murmured finally, her thumb running along his cheek in a tender gesture from another time. "I was taken..."

[member="James Justice"]

 

[James Justice]

He didn't blame her for her surprised look. In fact, it was almost to be expected. He was in a wheelchair now, and besides that--he knew he looked older. A lot older. He had gone deeper into the darkside, he had all but given himself over to it and the corruption had hurt him badly. Beyond that, coming to see his dead wife's ghost, the Prosecutor, and fighting against the demons that had stirred up--had aged him more in the past months than he had been in the past decade.

When she touched him, a part of him flinched in side. Maybe it was the pain he had been through recently, maybe it was a fear of letting down or hurting Patricia, or maybe, just maybe he was afraid of being hurt a second time. He smiled a weathered, tired smile at her words and gently grasped her hand, patting it softly. "I understand, I know how it--works."

He leaned back in his chair, licking his lips. How did he say what there was---to say? How do you tell someone that you thought they had left you for all your faults and flaws? How do you tell someone you had spent your nights drinking and sleeping with a different woman to try and drown out the tear in your heart? And how do you say that you had finally gotten over them and engaged in a relationship with someone else? That there wouldn't be another us, that you had closed that side to you at last?

"I thought you died," he said softly, "I thought--ye were gone forever." he smiled slightly, eyes heavy "I suppose in a way, I be a lot different than I were. Not just here," he said waving towards his wheel chair, "But that'll be done after a few surgeries," few was an understatement when you were looking at over a dozen, "but I am different too. Things have happened," he waved towards the door, "can ye walk or are ye too weak? We can--talk--about what's happened over the past few years."

[member="Anara Valnor"]

 

[Anara Valnor]

The way he held her hand and patted it said more than James likely realized. The reaction wasn't callous, but it was a far cry from being even remotely similar to the man when they'd first met. The years had changed him and clearly his heart had as well. It hurt in a way she hadn't expected and with a slight nod she pulled her hand from his grasp, a cold settling in her chest.

"There were times I wished for it..."

She recalled little of her captivity, but there had always been a hope and longing beneath all the pain and madness that she could return to James' side. Clearly that was the dream of a fool; after all she'd suffered Anara was surprised by her own naivety. Fool.

Swallowing she pushed the hurt aside and refused to acknowledge it along with the beginning fires of jealousy she felt in her gut. There was no way James, even in a wheelchair, did not have some pretty thing hanging on his every word. Being angry at her own loss was easier than accepting it, but she didn't dare turn her growing discontent toward James; he didn't deserve it. Her own weakness had wrought her fate as it always had.

"It probably...doesn't matter. The universe got on without me...That bit never changes," she murmured, trying in vain to avoid discussing anything concerning them. She hoped by not bringing it up James would understand that she had already figured out that he'd moved on.

[member="James Justice"]

 

[James Justice]

Her lack of a reply spoke volumes. James had never been in this situation, with very little exception those he had romance--not one night stands but romance--with never showed up again. This was totally new territory to him. It didn't matter that he was totally screwing his own life up, that was a given already. He had accepted long ago that hew was bound to go down in a ball of flames. But there was no reason that others had to go down with him.

There was no small amount of regret he felt from that.

He wished now, as he had wished many times, that he could go back and change things.

"It probably...doesn't matter. The universe got on without me...That bit never changes,"

He licked his lips. There was no easy way to walk this path, and he knew that. He had to speak and walk carefully..... ouch, poor choice of words.

"The universe still cares," he said softly, "Or it wouldn't have done everything it could to take care of you." It was thinly veiled, it wasn't exactly a massive hidden message, and if he had his way he still would have out and said that she was still a good person and he still cared about her in that way. His other Ex's he'd wished dead. Had they shown up on his door step? He wouldn't have been so gracious. He tilted his head towards the door with a slight smirk, "Come along, I gotta stretch me legs."

He began wheeling himself through the halls, his hands pushing himself along. Sure there were easier ways, hoover chairs with engines and trinkets but that would have made him complacent. And complacent was crippled for life. He wanted to be miserable, miserable was motivated.

"I think we need to repaint this hospital," the spacer said glancing at the walls, "somethin' cheery, makes ye feel like gettin' better. I think that kinda thing makes a difference, dun't ye?"

[member="Anara Valnor"]

 

[Anara Valnor]

She paused as they exited her room, a soft smile slowly curling her lips; he spoke the truth. Though the memory was little more than a feeling, one she hadn't thought was real at the time, Anara remembered sensing James just before Death reached out for her. Just because he hadn't gone looking for her when she vanished and just because he'd moved on didn't mean his feelings for her were gone. She was being to harsh on him and herself.

"Thank you," she murmured finally, her fingers just barely grazing his hair as they moved slowly down the hall. Tired in more ways than she could count Anara shuffled along at his side, amber orbs sweeping over the sterile environment.

"Something warm...not too bright, but comfortable..." Her voice was soft, both from lack of strength and because she feared that if she were to loud she might shatter. The ache in her chest was familiar and with her memories intact once more it only served to remind her of all she'd lost; she wished she could go back to the beginning to warn the young woman she'd once been.

Run little Jedi. Run home and stay there.

Shaking her head, Anara pulled herself from her thoughts, focusing on the present once more. "A fresh paint job would do this place some good. I'd rather wake up in a room that reminded me of home instead of this blaring white..."

[member="James Justice"]

 

[James Justice]

James felt a wave of relief that things were working out. She wasn't angry, she seemed to be taking it well. What was it that they called it? Restitution or something like that. Things were brought back--well not the way they were before, but to a pretty good place. Not perfect, but things weren't perfect to begin with. He searched his mind for a moment on what perfect would even be.

My wife still being alive and well. Not having missed my kid's early childhood. Not killing people at every turn. Not having to look over my shoulder every time I walk in a room. The list went on and on in his mind, and oddly enough none of it had anything to do with what he had the most of--money.

"Aye," James said with a chuckle, silencing that voice, "something homey, maybe a warm orange or yellow. I think I read somewhere yellow gave ye a sense of vigor, but I suppose that depends on the species."

He reached a window with her overlooking the beautiful suburbs that stretched before them. Silence fell. Doctors and nurses passed by behind them and James looked over the houses, it was hard to not think about the many things that would never be. The regrets. James rubbed his stubble, lost in the quiet.

"I am a father again," the spacer said softly, breaking the silence at last. "This is me fifth child. At least that I know about. But this one is different." he glanced at Anara, "I am getting to watch them grow up. I never held me children and I never thought I would." he swallowed, taking a deep breath, "A long time ago I got married. Me wife--she--we weren't together too long. They said it was just--just a random accident," his voice wavered. It still hurt to think back on those days, "And she were pregnant. I never--I never thought I'd--" he took several deep breaths, bringing himself back under control. He had to stop, this wasn't helping anyone or anything. Pain has a purpose. This ain't it. He grit his teeth and swallowed it back down.

"I am glad I didn't lose ye too," he managed to grunt.

[member="Anara Valnor"]

 

[Anara Valnor]

She wasn't a big fan of yellow or orange, but it really didn't matter did it? James was simply making small talk.

Upon stopping before the window Anara let her mind wander and allowed herself to take comfort in the momentary silence that stretched between them. It was going to be hard to move past James, her feelings for him were still as fresh and strong as the day she'd been taken. Sighing, her eyes refocused and for the first time Anara took in her appearance; she was so much thinner than she had any right to be. She looked awful and laughed softly to herself; no wonder she felt so weak.

"Hmmm?"

Children? She'd wanted her own once, had even thought of having James', but now age was glad she'd never brought it up. Children always made things harder. "I'm glad," she murmured at last, a thin hand reaching out to pet his hair lightly. "I had two," she admitted slowly, a secret she'd never revealed to him.

"But I didn't birth either of them...My son claimed to be from another...dimension I suppose." She shrugged, absently wondering what had become of him. "My daughter was created in a lab..." The thoughts of her children had been painful once, but now, years later, she was numb to it. She'd never be a proper mother and Anara wasn't sure she even wanted to any longer.

[member="James Justice"]