Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Star Wars characters. I do own the OCs, though. I do not make a £ from this.

After reading "Lockdown" and watching the two final seasons of Clone Wars, this almost started to write itself on its own.

It's hard to read/watch anything involving Darth Maul without feeling even a bit of pity towards him.
Child soldier? Check.
Parental abandonement? Check.
Life-changing injury? Check.
And the list goes on...
So here is an AU where he can experience some positive interactions and find a bit of peace.
Will eventually be Maul/Obi-Wan (rather slow burn).

Flame all you want, I'm fireproof.

It had all happened in an instant. The Sith assassin butted Master Qui-Gon with the end of his mutilated double-bladed saber, reversed the grip and plunged the blade home in the Jedi's midriff, angling it so that it penetrated upwards, searing a path through the diaphragm and the lungs.

Trapped behind the energy barrier, Obi-Wan yelled in impotent fury. Despite years of training in the path of the Jedi, despite all the warnings against the darker emotions he had heard, he could not help feeling a wave of anger and hate fill him to the brim.

On the other side of the barrier, the Sith was smiling in satisfaction, baring pointy-looking teeth. His yellow eyes gleamed in his black-and-red face. His expression and posture clearly said that he was having the time of his life and could't wait for more to come.
"Come on, little Padawan, don't you want to avenge your master?" he taunted, pacing back and forth in front of the barrier, like a big cat on the prowl.

"I'll kill you!" Obi-Wan bellowed, tossing all restraint to the wind.

"You might try..." replied the Sith, with a broader smile.

As if by magic, the energy barrier suddenly disappeared with a whirring sound.
Obi-Wan roared and launched himself at his smiling foe. He had to be quick if he wanted to save his Master's life yet.
The Sith however, was undaunted by his display of fury and fended him off almost lazily with the remaining blade of his saber. Obi-Wan redoubled his efforts in desperation, allowing his form to become sloppy to gain extra speed and try to find an opening in his foe's defenses.
That was a capital mistake, he realised, as the Sith kicked his saber away from his grasp and, profiting from his imbalance, partly kicked him, partly Force-pushed him back into the waste-pit.
It was only thanks to quick reflexes and sheer luck that he managed to hold onto a sensor projecting from the metal-clad wall.

A foot or so above him, the Sith was again prowling, as if considering his next move, his lightsaber loosely dangling from his grasp and oscillating back and forth, like the tail of an irritated cat. Obi-Wan struggled to find a foothold, even a slight chink in the cladding, to heave himself up, all the while bracing himself for the finishing downward thrust that was sure to come.
He looked up and briefly caught the eye of his foe. As strange as it might seem, he looked not at all satisfied, even a little tacken aback, like a housecat who realises he has broken too soon the back of the mouse he had been toying with.
"Come on, little Padawan, is this all you've got?" the Sith asked, trailing his saber along the rim of the pit and showering him with sparks.
"Good thing your Master is dead then... What a shame..." he added with a wide grin.

A red veil descended over Obi-Wan's eyes and somehow his anger gave him the strength to Force-jump like never before, somersaulting over his perplexed foe's horned head and landing on firm ground behind him. The Sith had barely time to turn, before a well-aimed roundhouse kick spun the saber away from his grip. Seamlessly, Obi-Wan pulled his Master's lightsaber into his hand, activated it with barely a thought and a flick of the wrist and slashed with all his might, aiming at the Sith's midsection and hoping to make as much damage as possible.
The light-blade sliced through flesh with a dull sizzle, and the Sith's face contorted into a grimace of shock and pain. He had somehow managed to partially dodge the blow and avoid being cut in half at the waist, however Obi-Wan's lightsaber had very nearly disembowelled him.
The Sith teetered on the edge of the pit, doubling up and almost collapsing in pain, and the full weight of what he had done hit the young Padawan: he had raised his blade in anger, seeking revenge for a personal grudge. He had defated a much more skilled foe, but the triumph tasted like ashes in his mouth.
Still struggling to stand, the defeated Sith stumbled backwards, almost tipping into the pit.
Lost in contemplation of his fault, Obi-Wan instinctively reached out with his hand and the Sith grasped it with his gloved one.
"You're coming with me..." the Sith rasped, intentionally propelling himself backwards.
Caught off-balance, Obi-Wan could not mount any efficient response and fell hurtling into the void, still holding his opponent's hand.

Obi-Wan awoke to the sound of something shuffling near him. Disoriented, he stuggled to sit up. His body felt sore all over and his head felt as heavy as a ton of bricks.
He opened his eyes to unfamiliar surroundings, a wasteland of broken and disused junk and organic refuse, from dismantled droids to rotten carcasses of dogs and kitchen waste. The ceiling was low and metal-clad, rounded like a vault and mostly lost in the shadows of the scarce lighting. The air was oppressively hot and humid and reeked like rust, mold and putrefaction.
Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to clear it and identify his surroundings. He remembered fighting, giving in to his anger and then a pair of taunting yellow eyes widening in horror and disbelief.
And then the rush of air all around him and the desperate bid to alter their course, away from the plasma reactor down below...

The pit! His foe must have succeeded in pulling him in as he fell, he realised, just as something hard hit him over the head and something heavy fell upon him, growling savagely.
Instinctively, with his vision blackening from the force of the blow, Obi-Wan rolled with the blow and planted his feet, trying to throw his attacker over his head, whoever they might be. They screamed in pain as they landed awkwardly a few feet away. Obi-Wan blinked repeatedly and shook his head again and his attacker picked itself up, panting and whimpering.
By the faint light of the service lighting, the Padawan watched in horrified fascination as the Sith he had nearly cut in half not long before tried to rise to his feet, holding a length of pipe in one hand and trying to keep his intestines in with the other.

He should not be able to do this, Obi-Wan thought fuzzily.

He barely pulled himself together in time to avoid the clumsy but powerful blow. Obi-Wan extended a leg and tripped the Sith, sending him sprawling on the refuse-covered ground. A kick sent the pipe flying away from his weakened grasp, but the Sith still had some fight left in him, even if Obi-Wan didn't understand how.
Screaming in pain and anger, he launched himself at Obi-Wan's legs, pulling him to the ground, and frantically tried to strangle him, or bash his head in with any piece of refuse he could find, or his own bare hands.
Obi-Wan had a hard time fending off the savage onslaught and only little by little, using every bit of training and discipline he could muster, he managed to force his foe against the floor.
Even then, the only way he had to finally subdue him and make him stop struggling once and for all was to basically sit on him and apply pressure on the terrible wound in his stomach. The Sith howled in agony, arching back and struggling to escape from the pain, then his body relaxed as he most likely passed out from the sheer suffering. Obi-Wan felt like throwing up from the mere idea of what he was doing, but there was no other way.
As soon as the struggle stopped, he relieved the pressure and sat back, blocking the Sith's legs with his weigth and pinning his wrists to the ground with his feet.
His breath came in hard pants and gasps from the exertion of the savage fight and his whole body was covered in sweat.
Even horribly wounded, the Sith had given it as good as he got, as his probably broken nose could attest. Blood was slowly dripping on his face and was smeared on his hands and clothes.
What was he supposed to do now? If he let him free there was the concrete possibility that the Sith would try again to attack him. The easiest solution would be to kill him, smother him with his bare hands, or bash his head in with some piece of rubble, or plunge that shard of ceramic over there into a staring yellow eye.

Returned to consciousness, the Sith arched his neck and tilted his horned head to follow his gaze. He deliberately relaxed as he turned his gaze towards the Padawan.
"Do it." he said, as if it dis not really matter. His voice was thick and rough with pain and his breath laboured, but his expression was surprisingly accepting for one who had just been struggling like a man possessed until a moment before.
Feeling deeply ashamed of his thoughts, Obi-Wan averted his gaze. How could have he thought of killing a man, even an enemy, in cold blood? Thoughts like those led unerringly to the Dark Side.
"Do it! - the Sith repeated, more forcefully - Come on, little Padawan, I know you want it. I've seen it in your eyes." he panted with a wry smile on his lips.
Obi-Wan shook his head and closed his eyes. Now that he had realised what he had been about to do, there was no way he could give in to the temptation.
"Come on, you spineless bastard! - the Sith cursed- I've killed your precious Master. I'm what you hate most. Come on! Avenge your Master. Grow a pair and kill me!" he exclaimed trying to struggle again, but much more weakly than before.

At his words, Obi-Wan felt the red veil obscuring his vision once again. It would be so easy to give in to temptation, no one would need to know about what happened there in the dark. The Sith would be dead and his master would be avenged, what mattered if he had killed him during their duel or afterwards?
"No! " he yelled eventually, the sound echoing under the vaulted roof. He unwittingly infused his words with enough Force to make the superficial layer of refuse on the ground near them scatter away. The Sith's yellow eyes widened in surprise.
"Are you so eager to die?" Obi-Wan growled, keeping his anger at bay.
The Sith shook his head. "I would have preferred to kill you, but I can't now, can I? - he rasped, gritting his teeth against the pain - I've been defeated, I've failed my Master, death is nothing more than what I deserve." he added in a totally matter-of-fact way.
Obi-Wan stared at him in disbelief. Did he really walue his own life so little to be totally indifferent to his own death?
"I won't give it to you." he replied with determination.
The Sith sighed and closed his eyes. "What do you plan to do with me then?" he asked wearily.
"This is not for me to decide. - he replied - You are a prisoner of the Jedi Council, it is for them to decide about your fate."
The Sith laughed a wry little laugh. "I highly doubt there will be much left for them to decide." he commented dryly.
"Why?" Obi-Wan asked, arching an eyebrow in perplexity.
The Sith sighed again. "Do you realise you've gutted me like a fish and that we've been rolling in filth until now? - he said as if explaining a simple concept to a not overly bright child - If the wound does not kill me, the infection will. I'm a dead man walking. It would be easier for us both if you would just kill me now."
"Sorry, but this is not an option. We'll have to do this the hard way." Obi-Wan replied.
"Damn you and your rules, Jedi! - the Sith cursed, banging the back of his head against the floor in frustration - This is bloody ridiculous!"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "If I free your hands, will you keep on fighting me?" he asked, considering his next move.
The Sith appeared to ponder the question for a moment, then sighed. "I've hardly got any fight left in me." he said wryly.
The Padawan nodded. "Good." he said and let go of his foe's wrists to pat at his utility belt in search of his commlink. The apparatus appeared to have miraculously survived the fall and he quickly tapped the code of the commander of the palace guards.

"What are you doing?" the Sith asked. True to his word, he had not tried anything funny yet and had just lain there, breathing shallowly.
"Calling for help. If only this damned thing would work..." Obi-Wan replied, gritting his teeth in frustration at the lack of any response from the machine. Evidently something must have stopped working even in the absence of visible damage.
"It won't work. - the Sith said - We're far below ground where the signal from the netlink of the palace cannot reach us."
"Damn it! - Obi-Wan cursed - We'll have to move towards the exit to find the signal." He stood up, for all intents and purposes freeing the Sith, who however did not move.
"We?" he simply asked, arching an eyebrow. He struggled to prop himself on an elbow and stared at the Jedi with a confused expression.
"Right... - Obi-Wan sighed, mentally slapping himself. The Sith was not going to go anywhere with that wound - OK, let's do it like this: I'll go and find help. You stay here good and quiet. I'll come and pick you up as soon as I can, alright?"
On the Sith's patterned visage appeared an expression of genuine panic. "No! - he exclaimed - You can't do this! Kill me instead! I'd rather have any other death than be left here to feed the scavengers!"
"The scavengers?" Obi-Wan repeated, uncomprehending. The Sith just nodded, clearly alarmed and struggling to sit up.

As if on cue, something rustled among the rubbish and Obi-Wan imagined he could distinguish red-gleaming eyes in the darkness. Scavengers, rats most likely, but probably also something worse. He'd heard some pretty disgusting stories about what a swarm of rats could do to a child or a wounded man when in a feeding frenzy. The mere thought was enough to make him nauseous.
"Force help me!" he whispered under his breath, digging his hands in his hair.
The Sith had managed to somehow crawl towards the wall and was trying to leverage himself up in a franctic effort. "I can walk." he said, wide-eyed.
"You'll have to." sighed Obi-Wan, hunkering down next to him and stilling him with a hand on his shoulder. The Sith stiffened and seemed on the verge of a violent reaction.
"Easy there! - Obi-Wan said, taking his hand off him - That wound needs to be seen to, before you can try to walk."
The Sith forced himself to relax and nodded, swallowing hard. He was not looking forward to having it done, but neither was Obi-Wan. He had been trained in first aid, but that was very much outside his area of competence. He had first-aid bacta-pack in one of his pockets, but it was pitifully small and had nothing he could actually use as bandages.
"Can you sit up?" he asked.
The Sith nodded and complied with an agonised grimace. Obi-Wan quickly untied the two layers of the Sith's robe, uncovering more red-and-black patterned skin and a huge, gaping wound. Thankfully the blade had cauterised it, so that it wasn't bleeding too much, but still... He quickly averted his eyes, unwittingly meeting the Sith's yellow gaze.
"You're still in time to change idea." the Sith said in a soft, strained voice.
Obi-Wan shook his head and produced the bacta-pack, tearing the packaging with his teeth. For a moment, the strong, pungent smell of antiseptic overpowered the stench of refuse.
"I've got one too." the Sith said, handing him another small package from one of his pockets. Combining the two, he would have barely enough to thinly cover the wound.
"This is going to hurt." Obi-Wan warned.
The Sith nodded and lay back against the wall. "I know. Do it already. It won't get any better for waiting." he replied impatiently.

Obi-Wan acquiesced and set to his task. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but between how deep the wound was and the fact that the ointment burned even on shallow grazes, he knew he was causing his prisoner an enormous amount of pain. The Sith closed his eyes and arched his back, baring his sharp teeth in a grimace of agony. His left fist was beating on the floor and tears were streaming out of the corners of his eyes, but apart from his shallow, panting breaths, no sound was escaping his lips.
Obi-Wan finished as quickly as he managed and took his own outer layers off, wiping his blood-caked hands on them and discarding them on the floor. Thanking the Force for always feeling slightly cold, he took off his undershirt and packed it against the wound. It was the only remotely clean thing he could improvise a bandage with.
The Sith manged to open his eyes again and a quiet whimper escaped his lips at the slight pressure.
"Nearly done. - Obi-Wan tried to reassure him - If I use your sash to tie the bandage, will your trousers fall off? Because mine would, you know?" he added unnecessarily, hoping to distract him from the pain.
The Sith expelled a quiet laugh. "Go for it." he allowed.

Obi-Wan tried to smile reassuringly and untied the sash from the Sith's waist and re-wrapped it slightly higher, hoping to keep the inner bandage in position and his bowels in.
"All done. - he announced, as cheerily as he could muster as he donned his tunic and jacket once more- How are you feeling?"
The Sith rolled his eyes and shook his head at the absurdity of the question. "Still alive, for now." he replied.
"Can you stand?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Do I have any choice?" the other replied.
The Jedi shook his head.
"Thought so." the Sith commented with sarcasm, trying again to haul himself to his feet with the help of the wall. Obi-Wan could tell that the manouver was causing him a lot of discomfort. He would never ask a Jedi for help, even of ot cost him his life, Obi-Wan could well imagine it, his pride would not allow it. If he wanted to prevent the prisoner from suffering needlessly for his stubborness he had to offer his help on his own accord.

"Here, lean on me." he offered, approaching his wounded foe and setting his left arm over his own shoulder. The Sith tried to avoid the contact, recoiling slightly towards the wall.
"I don't need your help." he lied.
"I know. - Obi-Wan acquiesced nonetheless - Just humour me, will you? We need to get out of here as soon as we can."
The Sith nodded almost imperceptibly and set part of his weigth upon Obi-Wan's shoulders. Bracing upon him and the wall both, the Sith managed to get his feet under him and push himself up with his legs, panting with exertion. He wobbled and staggered but managed to hold himself upright seemingly by sheer force of will.
"Do you need a breather?" Obi-Wan asasked, concerned.
The Sith shook his head. "Let's go." he rasped, digging his fingers in the Jedi's shoulder and clawing at the wall with his other hand. Obi-Wan wrapped his right arm around the Sith's waist, steadying him and slowly, painstakingly, the odd couple began to advance, step by painful step.