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Kenobi had slipped out of his room and into the night approximately three hours and twenty-two minutes ago. Maul had felt it- Kenobi was strangely unguarded for how guarded he was. He made certain to keep his mind and thoughts shielded, but his emotions betrayed him, spilling out with every movement like a bleeding wound that wouldn't close. Even now that pulsing anxietyguiltneed rippled softly in the force.
Maul had a decent idea of where Kenobi was going. (Just a day prior he had found that mandalorian liquor, the kind that supposedly felt like fire poured down your throat and renders you useless a couple sips in if you're not used to it, tucked away under the man's mattress. Maul had simply poured it out, and trashed the bottle.) But Maul was also busy. He has more important matters to attend to beyond babysitting whatever hollowed out shell of his nemesis was left, despite both teenaged girls arguing in favor of keeping him around.
However, his work has now been settled for the night, leaving him at least five hours of sleep, had everything gone according to his schedule (when did he ever get so lucky).
Prodding for Kenobi's presence in the force, he found the fool a decent walk away in what was very likely a bar, should the other vague force signatures and contextual clues of Kenobi's habits be enough to work with. Maul sighed to himself, a resigned anger knowing his options were to hunt the jedi down himself, or allow Ahsoka to discover his absence in the morning. After the first incident involving the latter, Maul would prefer not to have a repeat.
It didn't take long for Maul to find the approximate location. Proven correct, it was a run down, tucked away bar, and Maul scrunched his nose in disdain. He always hated bars and drunkards. A drunk man was useful on occasion, they were much easier to string along or make talk with their inhibitions unimpeded under the influence of their chosen substance. However, it was a tactic Maul found rather cheap and tacky, reserved only for scum and low life.
Aside from that, he found the very idea of willingly lowering your defenses to be pointless and dangerous. He could never understand the desire for it, it only ever made him feel worse. He'd felt exposed and nauseous when he tried it once before and never understood the appel.
Still, it seems like some people not only crave it, but use it as a crutch. Curious, yes, but mostly a nuisance.
Inside, Maul scanned the room for his missing jedi. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and vomit permeated the air thicker within the building then outside of it, and Maul could feel a headache forming already. Kenobi sat at the bar, sipping a drink and quietly chattering with another patron, though clearly rather unengaged in the discussion.
Maul, hood hung low, stomped forward with little regard for anyone else, wrinkling his nose at how his boots would stick slightly to the floor with each step. Kenobi at least had the wherewithal to sense Maul's approach, turning to face him and paling slightly. "Ma-"
Maul placed a firm hand on Kenobi's shoulders. An ungloved hand at that- how could he have been in such a thoughtless rush to abandon his glove? That was risky, and his irritation for the situation grew stronger. "We're leaving."
Kenobi's hands trembled around his glass, though Maul felt nearly no fear from the man. Kenobi seemed to try to keep his face neutral, but Maul could not help noticing it turned into more of a guilty pout. Leaning against the jedi's shoulder, the patron beside Kenobi appeared curious, and a little cross at being interrupted. How annoying. Maul pretends they are not there. Kenobi grimaces as he speaks. "I was going to return soon- before daylight, I swear."
Maul felt his face twitch. The audacity of this man still knows no bounds even when crushed beneath soul consuming grief and trauma and depression. "You lost the privilege to make that choice on your own. We are leaving."
Maul's hand slid down to grasp Kenobi's bicep and pull him to his feet. Kenobi wisely realized fighting back was futile and stood with little resistance. With Kenobi standing, he had a few inches of height on Maul, and Maul has long realized he might not ever forgive the Death Watch for giving him this height back. Maul didn't spare a glance at the patron as he dragged Kenobi out of the bar.
Kenobi followed like a lost child, and instead of fear or anger, there was only that nauseating hurtguiltsadness pouring off of Kenobi. He reeked of sadness, and his lack of anger only further enraged Maul, but this was nothing new. He can't recall seeing such perfect, beautiful rage in Kenobi after their first dual and the death of his master. Maul had once thought the death of Satine would bring it out again, but it was only bone-rotting sorrow that emitted from him and burrowed into each bystander. (There was an anger there, but the jedi never acted on it, never even let it surface. It's as if his jedi nature demanded he smother and suffocate his anger until it dissipated like candle-flame.) That had never changed, the hungry sorrow only continuing to devour, until Kenobi's presence in the force felt cold and tasted like sea air.
"Ah, maybe don't- please don't tell Ahsoka about this?" Kenobi turned those depressing wide kicked-dog eyes down at Maul, and a bitter growl escaped him.
"She is bound to find out no matter what. She is extremely intelligent, and I would not bother attempting to fool her on your behalf." Kenobi had begun to lean heavily at Maul's side. It was almost laughable.
"It's not on my behalf, that's my- that's my point. I don't want to hurt her anymore then I have, it's better she doesn't know-"
Maul turned a snarl at Kenobi, who somehow had the gall to act surprised. "If you don't want to hurt her with your foolish habits, then stop feeding into them. I only allow you to stay because it was her desire. We had a deal. The moment you become more nuisance then aid, your value to me evaporates into nothing, and I would not hesitate to throw you out except that your presence is what's keeping that girl docile."
Kenobi raised an eyebrow at Maul, visibly not believing Maul's threats. It was perhaps the most Kenobi thing he has done since they met again on Tatooine, and Maul would almost like to push it further if he wasn't already at his limit with the jedi. Instead, Kenobi said nothing more about it, and they continued their walk.
Kenobi was a near-dead weight draped over Maul's shoulders, and between the physical weight and the force sensation of the jedi's tear stained exhaustion, Maul himself became heavy and slowed. Kenobi was physically lighter now then he had been during the war, what possible excuse could there be for this?
Perhaps that is just it, though, isn't it? Kenobi died in Order 66. The man Maul dragged back to his safe house was a hollow echo of that death, nothing more. A pathetic mimicry, mockery of what the jedi was, weighed down with failures and self blame. Not even worth the effort of killing. There was nothing to kill.
Halfway there, a quiet whimper fled from the man, and he yanked himself away from Maul to collapse on his knees at the edge of an alleyway. He fell before a small wooden crate, grabbed the sides with his hands, and began to heave over the other side of it.
Maul huffed in frustration, kneeling beside Kenobi and gathering the man's hair in his hands with little thought. (It would not do to bring the man home injured or dirty, Ahsoka would have a fit seeing vomit in the man's hair. Or at least, Maul assumes she might. She's grown defensive of him in his frail state, and perhaps Maul is the only one who can see the guilt of this eating at Kenobi. Shame and sorrow seem to be all he feels strongly these days.)
Maul had always found hair a little fascinating, seeing as he couldn't grow any himself. The look, the texture, it was so strange to him. Kenobi's hair now felt nothing like he remembered. It had grown past his shoulders from neglect, dry as it caught against the calluses of Maul's ungloved hand, ends split to a disgusting degree. It was far worse when they had found him, too, though his hair was the least of anyone's concerns, especially Kenobi's.
Kenobi took shaky breaths and trembled as he vomited, mostly liquid and eventually just dry heaving. So not only had he snuck out to drink in the absence of his stowaway liquor, but he had not eaten beforehand, or perhaps all day. The alcohol and lack of eating had made him easily ill. Completely at the mercy of Maul like this, weak in body, mind, and spirit. It would be so simple to slip his hand down further and crush his windpipe.
But it was never about killing Kenobi, at least not for a while. He had wanted the jedi broken, debased. He had wanted to see that anger he saw only once before burn him up from the inside out, to feel the fire of it graze Maul's skin. He had wanted the jedi beneath him, crushed under heel, worthless.
And here he was, broken as Maul had dreamed of, no, worse.
And it was not of his doing.
"Sidious had to have everything, didn't he?" Maul muttered, mostly to himself, but Kenobi flinched between gasping breaths at the name being spoken. "The greedy, gluttonous thing that he was, gorging on the suffering of every living thing as though it were the finest of feasts. It was never enough to satiate him- nothing is, nothing will be. He got to have everything, even my revenge. You were supposed to be mine to break, to kill, to ruin. It was a wholly stolen vengeance. Everything that was mine he has wanted for himself, and somehow that included your destruction. You are pathetic and broken, and I see clearly this was not my doing.
"I have hurt you in many ways, but no feat I accomplished rang so painfully in your heart as what that monster managed to do, and now there are no bones left in you to break, and no light remaining to snuff out. To harm you is aimless, it would bring me no satisfaction. I cannot hurt an enemy that no longer exists. The suffering I inflicted on you might as well have been a bruised rib compared to this- this utter death of the perfect jedi, not in body, but in spirit."
His lips curled as he spoke the word jedi, and Kenobi shuddered under his hand. The Kenobi he knew might have quipped about not putting himself down, that Maul was still just as intense of a monster and a sith, and quite well accomplished in the art of maiming and tormenting. Instead, he sat back, looking dizzy as he wiped vomit and spit away from his mouth with his sleeve. He stared at Maul, seeming dazed and vacant, as though seeing through Maul instead of truly looking at him.
"Perfect jedi," he uttered, echoing Maul's words in a rueful, disbelieving tone.
Maul bristled, shutting down his line of thought, tucking it away to mull over at a later time, preferably alone. "Are you quite finished upheaving the contents of your stomach in the middle of the street?"
Kenobi only nodded, and waited for Maul to stand so he could be helped back to his feet. (Sat on his knees, staring up at Maul with those wide blue eyes, not fearful, expectant, nearly trusting-)
Maul debated if he should force Kenobi to eat something when they return, or if he should call it quites upon their arrival so he could possibly snag four hours of rest. With less trepidation and more self indulgence, he concluded that once Kenobi was settled back in his room, Maul would be locking it from the outside to ensure he is not disrupted again. If Kenobi noticed, by the time the jedi broke out, daylight will have blanketed the city, and Maul would already be active again.
As the pair arrived, Kenobi, arm slung around Maul's shoulder and leaning heavy into his side to stay upright, spoke right up against Maul's ear. "I felt you lying earlier, about throwing me out if it weren't for Ahsoka. It may have been true at some point, but it doesn't seem to be now."
Maul seethed, but did not reply. Once inside, he planned to throw Kenobi bodily back into bed, but like normal, nothing ever went according to his plans.
"And where were you two? Mas- Obi-Wan? You're supposed to be resting," Ahsoka stood between them and the rest of the building, arms crossed and face firm. Devon stood beside her, a slight air of smugness to her, smoothing out any worry she may have had, as though reveling in Maul's involvement in this situation. She did seem to occasionally find joy in his grievances, a petty small scale revenge of her own, whether out of a deep seeded genuine malice or the simple angst that every teenager seemed to carry (almost viewing every adult in their life as a mortal enemy) doesn't matter (at least, he does not think it typically does). Quite the apprentice she is indeed.
Kenobi was stiff beside him and oozed with shame. He stuttered out some apology, and Ahsoka's features softened as she muffled her previous anxieties with that jedi calm, reaching out in the force to sooth Kenobi. Maul only glared silently. Since when had he allowed two teenagers to sway so much power in his life?
"I'm getting him back to bed, and then I am going to sleep myself, because it has been two days since I have slept last. We can discuss this in the morning." Maul continued to drag Kenobi to his room, with luck that the girls let him pass, though he suspected he would not get to return to his own bed without another talk.
"She's going to kill me," Kenobi muttered before being unceremoniously plopped into his bed, bouncing a couple times with the momentum of it before flopping on his side and curling up. Kenobi seemed more comfortable now, grabbing at a pillow, already allowing his eyes to slip shut. The bedding here was much nicer then whatever sheets of worn fabric Kenobi slept on in Tatooine. He seemed softer swathed in the bedding. It looked cozy. Maul tore his eyes away.
Ahsoka was not going to be angry with Kenobi. Only dissapointed and worried, which both men agreed was worse.
"I think you'll find you're doing that well on your own," Maul said as he turned to leave.
"Sleep well, Maul."
Maul froze in the threshold of the doorway, looking at Kenobi from over his shoulder. There, easily missed, he barest hint of a smile, hidden in the right hand corner of his lips. His eyes were open again and glinted with something Maul could not place when he turned to look, and though it vanished as quickly as it arrived, it was enough to have Maul question the validity of at least one of his previous claims. Perhaps there's a light inside the former jedi yet. Smothered, trampled, dying, but still burning.
Fires buried in sand still tend to burn.
"…be sure to eat something when your stomach settles. It would not do for you to come this far just to starve yourself to death beside a stocked kitchen." With that, Maul left.
When he neared his own quarters, he realized in his momentary shock, he had forgotten to lock Kenobi away to ensure his own sleep. Damn it all.