PANIC CORD ━━━ l.skywalker ¹

21

"This is all your fault."

Clary's brow furrows, and she stares at him hopelessly, her heart aching.

"Luke —" Clary starts, but she's unable to finish her sentence as Luke suddenly collapses to his knees in front of her. He staggers, then finally looks up, the darkness in his eyes gone, but instead, the look of vulnerability shines.

"Clary —" He manages to gasp, and Clary looks down to see that he's no longer holding the lightsaber. It rests in Clary's hands, ignited through Luke, and Clary lets go immediately, eyes watering.

She opens her mouth, in the beginning of a strangled scream of anguish and despair, but the minute she blinks her tears away, the vision is gone. Luke is gone, Han is gone, and the dreaded lightsaber is gone.

"Destroy what destroys you, Clary."

But that was a dream and nothing more. Clary's eyes squeeze shut, the last of her tears streaming down her cheeks before she takes a deep breath. The blast through Luke's hand on the sail barge, the nightmares that never seem to go away — none of that compares to the way Clary feels when she's with Luke, actually with him. His childlike eyes...his naïve smile...his touch, so gentle and pure. Clary can't ever hurt him. She'll never hurt him.

"Don't tell me you believe in all of this, in him," Cal snaps, gaining her attention. "All that goodness...the Light Side. It's pathetic, weak. You are far from that, Clary."

"I'm not —"

"Haven't you felt empty most of your life?" Cal interjects. "Like you can't wrap your brain around it, but you know you can do more than what you're doing. That you are more powerful, so much greater than what you are right now."

Clary remains silent. The feeling she had felt when she wrapped her chains around Jabba's neck, pulling and pulling until he choked on his last breath. Make him pay, make him pay, make him pay.

"You think you can be good," Cal whispers, his face inches away from Clary's. "But there's no such thing as good or evil, Clary. There's only power, and those too weak to achieve it."

Clary finally dares to meet his gaze, and she comes to a sudden realization; his dark glittering eyes, the ghost of the eyes in her dreams, the eyes that have haunted, taunted, manipulated, and frightened her...she shouldn't be the one who's vulnerable and afraid. She knows better than that. She knows the good that comes from all the pain, how everything she'd been through had been worth it.

"I'm your brother, Clary," Cal says softly, as if he's been reading her thoughts. "I'm doing this for us."

Clary's face burns with an indescribable rage. "You're no brother of mine."

She knows she's hit a nerve. She can feel Cal's rage — intoxicating, fiery, burning hatred. She doesn't understand why his eyes glare the way they do, how so much hatred could be held in such a simple gaze.

"And Han Solo is?" Cal sneers, venom seething in his voice. "You're not even related by blood!"

Clary's eyes begin to water again. Han. She can feel the blood rush to her ears, making her head pound, her mind spin, her world crumble. "I am...Han is my brother —"

"Who do you think your father is?" Cal demands. Clary hesitates, confused by his question.

"My father is Jonash Solo —"

"Your mother is Ellona Aldrin," Cal interrupts. "And your father is the same as mine. An old Jedi by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Everything in Clary's mind seems to fall apart. She stares blankly at Cal, astounded by his words.