Chapter Text
The first time Cal truly laughs - that full-bellied laugh that shakes your whole body and feels like it came from your core -, he freezes in the middle of the moment, the laughter leaving him with a breathy hiccup.
They are sitting around a campfire. Greez wanted real smoky steak cooked over a real fire, so the next time they are at Bogano, he brings out logs of wood and makes a neat little campfire. While that, he constantly argues, mostly with Merrin, who simply loves to tease him to no end. Cal thinks Greez likes it, how Merrin has a comeback for his every clever remark.
He is laughing at one such back and forth when he realizes what exactly he is doing. He stares, the moment stretching taut under the questions that wedge themselves in his mind, his companions staring and not speaking, their concern palpable in the air. Cal focuses on the crackling of the wood, lets the acid smoke fill his nostrils, inhales it. Blinks once, twice... looks up with a smile.
"Are you alright, buddy?" Greez asks, almost nonchalant, but only just. It would even be believable if Cal didn't know him as well as he does. Cal nods and makes a dismissive sound as he stands.
"Yeah, it's alright," he replies, trying his damned best not to give away the tremor he feels at the pit of his stomach. "Be back in a sec, okay? Don't overcook my steak."
He knows that's a cheap shot, and the answer is an ever-predictable "Hey!" from Greez. He chuckles and turns, walking away from the fire's warmth. He feels the loss in his bones, like a numbness that seeps into the hidden corners of his mind. He walks to the edge of the not-quite landing platform and sits.
Bogano is just so different compared to Bracca. Where the junkyard never stopped moving, the noises grinding day in and out, Bogano is almost deafeningly quiet. Cal can hear the wildlife resting, their unconscious movements, the grass rustling in the soft wind. Cal thinks he prefers this to the other planet by tenfold. He takes a deep breath, holds it in and lets it out.
Staring into the darkness, Cal allows himself to entertain the thought of him letting go and slipping over the edge, falling into the void beneath the cliff. He knows he wouldn't really want to do that, but the guilt of being here and being happy, when hundreds of his kin, his own Master, lie dead, their bodies strewn across the galaxy, he feels a crushing weight on his chest.
He may have allowed the guilt to pass, but that doesn't mean he isn't haunted by his feelings.
He is so lost in his thoughts that he only registers someone - Merrin, his mind supplies -, approaching when she sits down next to him. The space between their thighs is barely wider than her delicate hand. She doesn't say anything at first, and Cal loves that she doesn't need to fill the silence with words. He stares ahead and listens to the murmur of life around them. Merrin's pulse beats steady in the Force, the quiet rhythm is like a balm for Cal's mind. He thinks he could meditate to that sound.
"You know you do not need to feel guilty, Cal," she says quietly, after her 70th heartbeat. Cal smiles: the feeling has passed some time ago, but it's still nice that Merrin tries to reassure him. Cal feels like he is cared for. "You will not betray your dead friends if you go on with your life."
Cal hangs his head, his chin falling against his chest. He feels defeated in the best way possible. His grief stands in the face of Merrin, of everyone, caring about him, and it surrenders, yet again.
"I let it go, before," he mumbles, a smile still playing on his lips. "But it comes back from time to time. It's like I shouldn't be happy when so many horrible things happened."
"I feel like it never really goes away," Merrin agrees. "I thought it would when I went with you... but it did not. I look at this strange green world, and I think: what would my sisters think if they were to see this?" She makes a wide arch with her arm, gesturing at the whole of Bogano.
"What helps then?" Cal asks, genuinely curious. He hasn't seen Merrin grieve ever since she joined the crew.
"I let the moment pass," Merrin replies, turning to Cal with a small smile. "I also think about how I am not alone in this. You feel the same, and that helps. I feel less isolated."
"Huh." Cal thinks he could have come up with something cleverer to say. He puts his hand next to his thigh, at the gap between the two of them. He feels Merrin put her hand in his a few seconds later and squeeze his. Cal closes his eyes, a warm feeling washing over him, smudging the hard edges of grief away.
"Would you ever go back to Dathomir?" he asks. Minutes go by with them simply holding hands when the question finds its way to Cal. He feels Merrin shrug.
"Maybe," she says, her tone pensive. "I do not feel that I have to, not yet at least. But I do not want to abandon the Nightbrothers."
"Yeah, I get it."
"Do you have a planet where you could go?"
Cal thinks about how to answer that question. He doesn't know how to be tactful about it: Merrin seems to be so family oriented that he doesn't know how she'd take to hearing that Jedis separate children from their families to train them.
But then, the Jedi were, are his family after that. He thought, he thinks of them like that.
"I don't remember where I'm from," he answers truthfully. "The Jedi were my family. They raised me. We lived in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, then on Ilum while we were collecting our Kyber crystals, and then I lived on a Star Destroyer named the Albedo Brave with my Master. Out of all that, maybe Coruscant? I lived there the longest. But I can't really visit there." Cal smiles. His mind is flooded by memories of all those places. The little triumphs and the losses that felt enormous at the time. The friendships, the laughter. The tears, the loneliness. "I liked it best on the Albedo Brave, actually. I felt so grown up."
He feels Merrin squeeze his hand in support. It's better than sympathetic words. Gives him courage to look at some of the more painful memories.
"You know, my Master died with me on the escape pod," Cal says then, quietly, lost in his thoughts, the words falling out of his mouth. The only sign that Merrin hears him is a sharp inhale. "The man I thought of as a father died in front of me. I was in that escape pod with his body for hours it felt like. The pod crashed on Bracca and went up in flames. At least he had a fitting burial." Cal coughs out a chuckle, blinking a tear away. It's still kind of painful to think about. "I know it doesn't quite compare to your genocide, but yeah."
"No." That isn't the reaction Cal expects, so he looks up at Merrin, confused. She looks rather furious. "No, that is not less than my trauma. There is no need to play 'who has it worse'."
"Uh, that's not how I--" Cal starts to protest, feeling a little hurt. Somehow, this wasn't what he expected. But Merrin cuts him off.
"I know what you meant," she says, and now she is smiling. Cal looks at her, confused by the sudden change. "All I am saying is, your hurt is just as bad as mine. It might be smaller in scale, but you were hurt just the same."
Cal stares at her, unable to formulate words. He doesn’t quite know what to say really. He feels warmth slowly bubble up in his chest and radiate through his limbs. Merrin’s words are so surprising since he never actually looked at his situation like this. There is a type of rightness to it, he thinks: yes, his trauma is no lesser than anyone else’s. All it took was someone else saying it out loud to him to understand.
Cal looks away and leans back down onto the grass, drawing Merrin with him, who is still holding his hand. That handhold feels like she is anchoring him to reality. Their bodies touch, arm to arm they lie on the grass, looking up at the billions of stars blinking above them. Cal breathes in and then out, slowly, allowing his mind to dial down into a meditative state.
“Where do you want to go next?” Merrin asks quietly after a while. Cal resurfaces from meditation at that and turns his head towards her, only to find that Merrin is also looking at him.
“I’m not sure,” he says, thoughtful. “We will probably need to stay in the Outer Rim for the time being, at least until things die down a little. I’m pretty sure we can find some place to stay.”
Merrin smiles and nods. It feels nice to be hopeful for a future that they are now allowed to have, it’s exhilarating to think about all the possibilities that they can now explore. Cal squeezes Merrin’s hand, hoping to convey the joy that suddenly hits him like a freight train. Merrin squeezes back and rests her forehead on Cal’s shoulder.
They only start to get up when they hear Greez shouting that the steaks are ready. Cal quickly gets up and, out of some sense of chivalry, holds his hand out for Merrin to help her up. She chuckles at the gesture, but takes his hand and doesn’t let go, not even as they approach the circle of light.
Greez and Cere give them a sort of curious look, but don’t say anything. Greez hands them both a plate each, stacked high with a steak and some side dishes. Cal thanks him, sits down and cuts into the meat. Taking a bite, he can’t help but to let out an appreciative moan.
“This is great, Greez,” he says, mouth still full of food. Greez laughs loudly and grins.
“Of course it’s great, kid, I made it,” he boasts, waiting for the others to start eating as well just so he can collect some more praise.
They eat and joke around, and this time, Cal doesn’t feel embarrassed about laughing.