In the Mantis' living room, Willow carelessly leaned her broom against the nearest wall. Cal stormed directly into the cockpit, and Willow followed him. He moved so fast that he nearly collided with the door frame. Quickly, he caught himself with his hands before pushing off and rushing into the cockpit.

"Get us out of here!" Cal shouted psyched up.

Right on cue, Greez fired up the engines, and the ship immediately lifted off the ground. Willow glanced out through the large glass windows of the cockpit. The rock on which the Mantis had stood just moments ago was now completely overrun by lifeless Nightsisters. Carefully, Willow stepped closer to the windows. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw at least a dozen more undead clinging to the Mantis. The zombies were holding on to the ship with all their might.

The small pilot was horrified.
"What'd you kids do?! I got dead witches crawlin' all over my ship!" he yelled, waving his four hands wildly in the air.

Willow felt guilty. The captain was right - they were responsible for this mess. If only they had handled the situation with Merrin, the Nightsister, differently... Maybe Willow should have tried talking to her. In theory, they even had a basis to connect - the magic. Now that she thought about it, she was annoyed that she hadn't come up with that idea sooner. Maybe she could have avoided this catastrophic situation.

Cal, however, didn't respond to the pilot's comment.
"Just go!" he shouted.

With the speed the Mantis had now reached, the living dead stood no chance and fell off. Cal then leaned against the wall behind him and sank to the floor. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his skin was paler than usual.

Cere crossed the few steps separating her from Cal and crouched down beside him.
"What happened? Did you find the tomb?" she asked.

Willow couldn't believe that Cere was seriously asking that question. The ex-Jedi had to have noticed that Cal had much bigger problems at the moment than that stupid tomb. Willow was about to give Cere a piece of her mind, but another glance at Cal stopped her. The boy didn't answer Cere, instead simply holding out his broken weapon to her. For a fraction of a second, his green eyes met Willow's. That brief moment was enough to make Willow's heart sink painfully.

Willow was about to move closer to her friend when Cere stopped her: "Willow, I think you should go to your guest room. I'd like to speak with Cal alone."

If Willow had thought she was shocked before, she was now utterly floored. Did Cere really just say that? She was sending Willow back to her room so that she and Cal could speak "alone" in front of Greez? A private conversation was never something Willow would have interfered with. But she found it unfair that she was supposed to leave her friend alone in his current state instead of being there to support him.

Cal himself said nothing more about it, and that made up Willow's mind. She left the cockpit silently, but not without shaking her head in disbelief. On her way to the guest room, she grabbed her broom before locking the door behind her. If she was now being forced to be alone, she at least wanted to have some control over how long.

She threw her leather bag into a corner and leaned the broom against it. Then she sat on the bed, trying to calm herself. The helplessness after everything she and Cal had experienced today was driving her crazy. Her leg began to twitch anxiously, and the Gryffindor girl nervously wrung her hands.
All this sitting around wasn't going to improve her situation either. So, she got up and began pacing in front of the bed, her thoughts everywhere but with herself.

The more Willow thought about Cal's situation and Cere's request, the more frustrated she became. Her emotions began to boil over. Willow knew she needed to stop it. Now a hint of panic mixed with the emotions - she didn't want to know what would happen if she lost control here. So, she took a deep breath, a pathetic attempt to calm herself. But it didn't work - instead the familiar warmth spread in her chest, and her fingertips began to glow blue. Quickly, Willow grabbed her wand and cast Silencio! on her room. In case of an outburst, no one would notice.

Willow continued to breathe deeply, but the glow from her fingertips slowly spread to her entire hand and crept up her wrists. Nervously, Willow tried her personal trick; she ran her fingers over the scar in her left eyebrow several times. She was beginning to believe it was working when more images from the day shot through her mind: Malicos, the dead Nightsisters, the Moth Beast, and Cere's slightly dismissive look when she had sent Willow away earlier. Not to mention Cal, devastated, crouching against the wall, and Willow not even getting the chance to be there for him. All these images and feelings - they flooded Willow. Unconsciously, she clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.

She paced back and forth in the small room, the blood rushing in her ears, her heart pounding wildly in her chest, and her glowing hands balled into tight fists. Willow knew one last way to calm her frayed nerves. Carefully, she pulled out the picture of her friends from her corset. Suddenly, the chaos in her head disappeared, replaced by something entirely different. Grief and guilt had accompanied her since Dathomir, but with the picture, these feelings became even more present. The glow in her hands subsided, and her chest felt familiarly heavy.

Dejected, she sank to the floor. No matter what she did, Willow was never truly able to help. The only thing she was good for was wiping out enemy camps and rescuing magical beasts. She had even killed before, helping the wizarding world in the process. But when it came to helping her friends beyond that, she was useless. She had forgotten about Anne for far too long, and she hadn't really helped Cal either. In recent years, her combative willingness to help was all that anyone ever needed from her and thus all she defined herself and her successes by. But here, Willow's help wasn't much needed, and she realized she had no idea who she really was.

At home, she was just a means to an end, and here... here she was just along for the ride. Willow was useless, and this realization depressed her. She thought about her friends, and her heart ached. How did she know her friends liked her for who she was? With Poppy and Natty, it was clear - they had told Willow often enough how much they liked her. But the others... Sebastian, for example? Did he really like her? Or was he just keeping the friendship alive so that Willow would help him?

The first tears made their way down Willow's cheeks, leaving a warm trail as they went. Even Cal... he had grown dear to her, and now he was suffering. Willow didn't want to doubt that he liked her for who she was; after all, she didn't offer much to be exploited in this universe. But... did he even want her to be a support for him? She could understand if he didn't need her comfort. But what did she do when she wasn't needed and wasn't attending to her school duties?

The girl was getting a headache. She got up and placed the picture on her bed before stepping into the bathroom for a hot shower. She wasn't hungry after all the commotion, so she'd skip dinner tonight. Willow didn't spend long in the shower. When she was done, she changed directly into her pajamas and threw herself onto the bed. With a flick of her wand, she sent the picture to the desk before snuggling into the blanket and turning off the light. Her eyelids felt heavy, and within minutes, she was asleep.

—

The night was restless. Willow was plagued by terrible nightmares; the events on Dathomir wouldn't let her go. The dead Nightsisters were a constant presence in her dreams. The decaying flesh on the wandering corpses reminded her of the Inferi she had had to fight far too often back home. But Victor Rookwood, Ranrok, giant spiders, Professor Fig, and Sebastian also kept appearing in her nightmares. The girl woke up several times, drenched in sweat, and finally decided she couldn't sleep anymore tonight.

Although Willow was exhausted, she had had enough of all these horrible, chaotic images. She went to the bathroom again to wash her pale face with cold water. Then she searched the room for her school robe and wrapped it around herself. The robe oddly comforted her. As Willow passed by the desk, she caught a glimpse of the glass phial that glistened in the light. The young student hesitated and finally slipped the phial with the faintly pinkish liquid into a pocket of her robe. Then she grabbed her wand, dispelled the silence charm, and opened her room door.

Cautiously, she stuck her head out. The corridor was pitch dark and dead silent. Willow took a deep breath before stepping out and wandering through the ship. Her eyes had now adjusted to the darkness, so she could sneak through the ship without worry, recognizing the outlines. She was just near the kitchen and glanced into the sink. The dishes from tonight's dinner hadn't been washed yet, given the small pile of dishes that had accumulated. Willow didn't blame the crew members - the day's events seemed to have shaken everyone up.

Quietly, the girl stepped into the living area and then froze. On the large round table by the sofa, the flame of a candle danced in a gentle rhythm. Willow turned in a circle, scanning the area with her eyes. She peered into the dark hallway, looking for someone who might have lit the candle. Then she heard a faint rustling and instinctively gripped her wand, though she knew there was no danger on the Mantis.

"Willow?" she heard someone ask softly.

The girl jumped and whirled around. Emerging from the cockpit into the warm candlelight was the slender figure of Cal. He still looked terrible. His hair was a mess, and dark circles framed his pale skin. The whites of his eyes were slightly reddened, making Willow suspect he had been crying until recently. Feeling silly for clutching her wand, Willow quickly stowed it away, not taking her eyes off her friend.

Cal stepped a little closer to her. Then he asked, "Can't you sleep either?"

Willow merely shook her head before saying, "Nightmares." For a brief moment, an uneasy silence settled between them, and Willow knew they needed to talk. Without speaking, they both sat on the sofa. The small distance between them comforted Willow a little. She struggled to find the right words to say to him. Nothing seemed meaningful or good enough, so she just started talking.

"Cal, I-"

"Willow, listen."

Their eyes met, and at Cal's look, Willow immediately closed her mouth. Fine, she'd let him go first. He directed his gaze to the candle's flame before he began to speak.

"I'm sorry Cere sent you away so abruptly earlier," he started, and Willow saw him swallow.

"I wouldn't have minded if you had stayed with me. But Cere... she opened up to me in a way that I think would have felt too private if you had been there, even though I don't entirely understand why. After all, just a few days ago, we were openly talking about this topic while you were gathering your plants."

"Cal, I..." Willow began, wringing her hands. "You don't need to apologize for that. And neither does Cere. I just felt useless at that moment because I wanted to help you and couldn't. I wasn't even sure if you wanted me there." She whispered the last part as quietly as possible, not really intending for Cal to hear it.

She continued, though hesitated as she spoke.
"So, it's okay. But, I do have a question. And you don't have to answer it. It's fine if you don't want to. But... what happened in the tomb? You were so withdrawn... I was worried."

Willow looked at him. His gaze seemed fixed on the flame, and he didn't respond at first. Then his green eyes flickered to Willow before he looked back at the candle. Cal took a deep breath.

"When I was meditating, it... it was different than usual. Meditation helps me strengthen my connection to the Force, and sometimes memories from my time as a Padawan resurface. After... after Order 66, my connection to the Force was broken. Cere is helping me to restore it."

Cal paused briefly, and Willow gave him the time he needed.
"When I meditated in the tomb, I found myself in a memory. It was the day the purge began. I..." He broke off mid-sentence and shook his head. Willow understood how hard it was for him to talk about this. But she wanted to assure him that he could trust her. So she closed the small gap between them and moved closer to Cal. Then, without hesitation, she placed her hand on his. Cal turned his hand to clasp Willow's, and the young student traced circles on the back of his hand with her thumb.

Cal began again.
"I saw my master die," he spoke so softly that Willow almost didn't hear it.
His confession made her heart clench. She squeezed his hand tightly - words couldn't ease this pain.

"It wasn't just that, Lills. It was my fault," he whispered. Willow looked at him, confused. Cal still had his eyes fixed on the flame.
"My master... He died because I wasn't good enough," Cal exhaled shakily. "But I got my punishment right away when I was hit by a clone's shot."
He reflexively raised a hand and stroked the scar on his neck that stretched to his cheek.

Willow's throat tightened. She wanted to say so much, but no words came out. Cal lowered his gaze to their intertwined hands, and Willow saw a small, glistening tear roll down the tip of his nose. He quickly wiped it away and looked back at the candle. Willow had to say something. Empty platitudes wouldn't help, and she was sure that Cere had already tried to convince Cal that he wasn't to blame for his master's death. That would have been Willow's first attempt too, if she didn't know by now how he thought. So she tried a different approach and could only hope that Cal wouldn't take it the wrong way.

"I saw my mentor die too," was all she said at first. Now it was she who watched the candle burn, and it was Cal who gave Willow his full attention.

A little unsure, she considered how best to phrase it. Under no circumstances did she want him to think she was dismissing his experience and trauma.
"Professor Fig took me out of the orphanage back then and brought me to Hogwarts when it became clear that I had magical blood. He was the first person I connected with, and he was wonderful. Fig taught me a lot and prepared me for the basics. But he often missed his lessons; he was a terrible professor," she admitted with a quiet laugh. Cal even managed a slight smile. "But he was an even better friend. He was with me throughout my entire fifth year and was always there for me. In a battle that, if we had lost, would have led to a war, Professor Fig died a terrible death."
Willow didn't pause as she spoke. She had never talked so extensively about her mentor's death. It was a relief to share her experience with someone who was unbiased.
"I was careless and didn't see that a massive boulder was falling straight toward him. Fig was swept away by the rock. Later, I found him, and he was still breathing. I was there when... when he took his last breath. His death haunts me to this day. And to this day, I haven't forgiven myself for my carelessness," she finished, realizing only then how tightly she was gripping Cal's hand. She quickly released the pressure.

"But his death wasn't your fault, Willow. There was nothing you could have done," Cal said, looking sincerely into her eyes.

Willow shrugged slightly.
"Maybe. And maybe one day I'll see it the way you do. But Cal, you were just a child when your master died. You had as little control over his life as I had over my mentor's. If I'm innocent, then so are you."

She could see him thinking. He clenched his jaw several times before he nodded slightly.
"Maybe," was all he said.

"Can I ask you something?"

Cal nodded and ran a hand through his slightly tousled hair.

"What did you do afterward? Did you escape all by yourself?"

"Well, I... I dragged myself and my master's riddled body into an escape pod. The explosion of the ship was so powerful that it shook the little pod. Eventually, the pod crashed on Bracca. That's where I stayed, and since then, I've been haunted by these miserable feelings of guilt. I blended in with the locals, hid myself. And I joined the Scrapper Guild," he explained calmly, glancing at a tattoo on his right arm. It looked like some kind of code.

"Is that where the tattoo comes from?" Willow asked him.

Cal nodded.
"It's kind of like a mark that shows you really belong."
Cal seemed lost in thought for a moment before he continued speaking.
"On Bracca, I stopped using the Force. I stuck to three simple rules to survive," he said, counting them off on his fingers, "First, don't stick out. Second, accept the past. And third, trust no one but the Force."

Willow nodded. That had been a smart move on his part. Cal went on.
"That worked for five years until... until a few days ago when I tried to save a friend from a deadly fall. There was no other way; I had to use the Force. But that was my mistake. It brought the Inquisition down on me. Luckily, it also attracted Cere and Greez. They saved me from death."

"I see. Now it all makes so much more sense," Willow admitted. Tired, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Yeah, now you know my story."
Cal seemed to hesitate before asking his next question.
"But Lills, why couldn't you sleep tonight?"

The girl closed her eyes. Cal's proximity made her sleepy, but her mind was still wide awake.
"What happened on Dathomir today, it just wouldn't let me rest. The zombie sisters reminded me of creatures from home that look similar. It was just a lot of things adding up and haunting me in my sleep," she explained.

Cal made a noise of agreement, and Willow remembered something.
"This is quite a leap from our original topic, but at home, there are creatures that only a certain type of person can see. We call them Thestrals. Do you know what horses are?" she asked.

She felt Cal shake his head.
"Horses are basically riding animals. And Thestrals look very similar to horses. They're black, winged, and have leathery skin. They're super peaceful creatures, but many people are afraid of them."

„Why? Who can see them?" Cal asked curiously.

"You can only see Thestrals if you've seen death. You, for example, could see them, unfortunately. But I find Thestrals to be somewhat comforting. They're beautiful creatures and offer a kind of solace in the midst of loss. It's a bit of a shame that you'll probably never get to see one," she finished, and Cal made a thoughtful sound.

After a moment of silence, he began to speak again.
"Hey, Lills."

"Hm?" she murmured. Right now, she felt like she could sleep for centuries without a single bad dream. Cal's warmth and scent were so soothing that Willow never wanted to leave his side.

"Thank you. For this conversation. It really helped, and I feel a little better."

"Thank you, Cal. Your trust means a lot to me, and I swear to you, I'll take your burdens to the grave with me."

Cal squeezed her hand a bit tighter before giving it a gentle shake. "Come on, Lills. You should try to get some more sleep."

"Says the right one," she snorted in response.

The two teenagers got up, and Cal blew out the candle. They then quietly crept back down the hallway towards the bedrooms. In front of Willow's door, they paused, and Cal turned to wave goodbye. But Willow's body acted faster than her mind, and she grabbed his wrist. He looked at her questioningly, and Willow's cheeks instantly flushed. She was just about to wave it off and leave, but then she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. So she gathered all her courage, avoided his gaze, and said, "I don't think I can sleep anymore tonight. I'm... afraid of more nightmares, Cal."

The boy looked surprised. Then he took her hand and stepped closer to her. "But you need to sleep, Lills," he said, as if deep in thought. After a brief moment, during which Willow wished she could disappear, his face brightened. "Would it help if you didn't sleep alone? Like, a sleepover?"

The girl felt her cheeks burning. She hesitated. If she declined, she'd be useless tomorrow due to lack of sleep. But if she accepted, it could be super awkward. She was undecided, and before she could lose herself in her uncertain thoughts again, she slowly nodded.

"Okay," Cal said, stepping into her room first. Gently, he pulled her in after him, and Willow's mind was now on standby. She didn't quite grasp what was happening, but she let it happen. Cal sat down on her bed. Like she was on autopilot, Willow let her warm school robe drop to the floor and set her wand aside before she also sat down on the soft mattress. Willow threw the blanket over herself and Cal, and both leaned back against the wall. Just like on the sofa, Cal took her hand, and Willow rested her head on his shoulder.

Within seconds, she was overcome by drowsiness, and with a final "Goodnight, Lills," from Cal, she drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3.790 Words

just a friendly warning for you all: we're about to embark on an emotional rollercoaster in the upcoming chapters. our dear Willow is going to go through a lot emotionally and mentally, which will shift the focus a bit more onto her personal development, slowing down the main plot a little.

what did you think of this chapter? two sad souls finding solace in each other's company in the quiet of the night :)

see u at the next one
~Alice