When Clary opens her eyes, Luke is nowhere to be seen. Sitting up, she glances around warily. She's alone in the swamp clearing; she can't recall what has happened previously, and she feels her heart rate spike considerably. The ominous feeling she felt before arriving at Dagobah has worsened; the system is the same, but the feeling has changed. Clary doesn't like it at all.

She feels as if she can't breathe. She stumbles forward, the world around her suddenly growing darker—not dark as if the mist is crowding in, but dark as in intoxicating; a suffocating darkness that's all so familiar it's frightening. Clary gasps for breath but her lungs feel as if something is wrapped around them, tightening them. Her chest heaves as she staggers, the ache in her chest causing her legs to grow weak.

"Luke," she manages to say. She needs him. She doesn't know where he is and it frightens her even more. She doesn't want to be alone. She can't be alone. She continues to struggle against the pressure aching against her chest as she forces herself forward. She feels overwhelmed and empty at the same time.

She doesn't notice the body until she staggers, falling over because her weak legs have collided with the solid, rock-like object. She gasps, the heaviness finally lifted as she looks at what she's stumbled upon. Han. He lays on his stomach and Clary sighs, relief flooding through her.

"Han, are you all right?" She rolls him over. His eyes are open and his mouth in the beginning formation of a yell. Clary gasps, so startled from the sight she jumps backwards in alarm. She stares wide-eyed, not being able to grasp the situation clearly. He isn't moving—he isn't breathing. He isn't anything. He's nothing.

"Han?" Her voice cracks as she shakes his body pathetically. It does nothing. She's bewildered, and she finally notices the hole in his chest, the blood staining his shirt red. Clary can't stop shaking. "No...no!"

She has to get away but she can't move. She's glued to the spot. Her eyes sting with tears but nothing streams down her cheeks; her vision doesn't blur, she isn't allowed the comfort of crying as she's forced to look at her brother's mangled body. He's not dead. He can't be dead.

Footsteps echo in the empty clearing and Clary's head snaps upward in alarm. A dark figure hovers over her and Han. She recognizes it immediately: the ghost of her nightmares.

"Who are you?" she demands. Her voice strains pitifully. "Did you do this?"

"No, Clary." She can almost hear the smile in the stranger's voice. "You did."

"No..." Clary shakes her head, staring dumbfounded at Han. His dead eyes, the light and gleam gone from them completely. She didn't do this. She couldn't have done this. "You're lying!" She looks up but the cloaked figure doesn't lift their head—she can't see their eyes, and that frightens Clary the most. Instead, the figure glances to the right—Clary follows the direction the figure seems to be looking in, until her eyes land on a lightsaber, lying just a few feet away.

She can't control her next movements and yet she suddenly sees herself picking up the lightsaber, igniting it, and driving it through Han's chest, enjoying the last gleam of the light leave his eyes—enjoying the last moments of life, having this power, being able to be in control. Clary screams, dropping the lightsaber immediately as she falls backwards, shaking fervently.

"It's okay, Clary," the cloaked figure coos. "It's going to be okay." They pick up the lightsaber, holding it out. Clary shakes violently. "It's all over now—it's over."

"No—"

"Clary, I'm here. Don't worry—it's going to be okay."

"No!" Clary brings her hands up to her head, gripping her hair tightly. She can't feel anything. She can't feel the pain; she feels empty. Yet the ache in her chest tells her otherwise. "I didn't do this, I couldn't have. He's my brother! I love him more than anything in my life—"

The cloaked figure laughs cynically. They lift their head ever so slightly to reveal dark glittering eyes; these all-familiar glittering eyes are eyes Clary has seen before, yet she can't recall from where.

"But you did, Clary. And I couldn't be more proud of you."

Clary lets out a scream but no sound comes out; she wants to cry and shriek until her throat turns raw, until everything turns inside out, until everything is turned to dust. She wants to explode in a frenzy—she wants to feel something. But nothing happens. She's trembling so hard that she wants her limbs to fall out—she wants to set fire to her insides, to her mind. Her ears are ringing and her chest is broken.

"I couldn't be more proud of you, Clary."

Before she can react, her throat is closed off. Her lungs scream as they claw against her chest; she writhes under the grip and control the cloaked figure has on her. She's vulnerable and she hates it—she can't fight back. She finds no will to fight back. She grabs at her throat, attempting to pry off the hands that are holding her but there's nothing. She gasps but no air filters through. Her lungs are on fire. Her insides are on fire—her mind is on fire.

She wakes up choking. She can't breathe as she gasps violently for air, her chest heaving recklessly. Clary doesn't notice the grip Luke has on her until he holds her tighter, rocking her gently. She turns her head sharply and in the dark gleam of the night she can make out his familiar glittering blue eyes; those intoxicating eyes that frighten and comfort her. Clary gasps, still short of breath as she coughs, sputtering and gasping, throat raw. Luke doesn't let go and Clary holds onto him, clinging—normally she would have been embarrassed, but she finds herself wheezing and her chest aches so fervently she can't let go.

Out of the corner of her eye she spots a dim light and Yoda stands nearby. He watches the two momentarily—Clary can barely hear the soothing words Luke is trying to murmur to her as she eyes the small Jedi warily. He blinks before closing his large eyes, giving a small nod of his head before turning, heading back to his hut. R2-D2 lets out a soft beep from nearby but he, too, doesn't dare to approach Clary and Luke.

Everything seems incoherent to Clary—it was a dream, but it felt all too real. She wants to ask about Han but her eyelids are heavy and from Luke's strong and gentle grip, she's finding herself calming down. He seems to realize this too, as he shifts, attempting to get up. On impulse Clary grabs his arm feebly.

"No, please don't leave me..." She inhales sharply, trying to ignore the fact that Luke isn't Han and that he won't be used to calming her after nightmares like these—to Han this is normal; to Luke, this is most likely insane.

He lowers himself to the ground once again, easing Clary of her fears and muddled mind as he pulls her close once again. She rests her head against his chest, listening to steady rise and fall of his chest. "I won't ever leave you," he murmurs. "Not tonight, not ever."

Clary's face warms but she pushes his words aside—she considers it's her unstable state that's making her hear things and she closes her eyes once again. It's silent, but it's a comfortable silent—the Dagobah system no longer feels ominous.

"Is this what they're like?" Luke asks suddenly. Clary stirs, eyelids heavy, confused momentarily before she realizes he's speaking about the nightmare. She gives a small nod of her head.

She can recall telling him about her dreams, but a long time ago, back at when the Rebels had first transferred Echo Base onto planet Hoth. She didn't think he would remember. He holds her closer, his hand resting against her back; he'd occasionally move it when he'd sense her tense if the silence of Dagobah grew too much, rubbing soothingly. Clary doesn't mind, though—she's comforted by it. She feels herself calming down once again and the steady beat of Luke's heart echoes in her ear. He's alive and warm and he remains as honest and sincere as ever—everything about him is soothing. Everything about him is intoxicating.

Clary's eyes begin with weigh heavier and she finds herself no longer feeling fazed by the dream; she finds herself slowly forgetting about Han's dead eyes and mouth open agape in the middle of a cry cut short.

"What was it about?" Luke asks, gaining her attention.

Clary swallows. "It..." she trails off. She's scared to tell him; what if he thinks differently of her after? He wouldn't understand the darkness that's so suffocating she feels as if she's being force choked nearly every time, he wouldn't understand the horror of the glittering eyes of the cloaked figure, the sneer in their voice, the fear it impacted in Clary; he wouldn't understand the complete and utter terror at the sight of Han's dead eyes and mouth open agape in the middle of a cry cut short and the hole in is chest, not too large but not too small, the width of a lightsaber's beam, and the way the lightsaber had called out to her, almost convincing her to commit the crime. He won't understand. Clary finds herself growing startled from the dream once again.

"You don't have to tell me," Luke says, understanding her hesitation. "I don't need to know."

Clary is grateful for his words and finds her eyes closing once again. She's more comfortable than she's ever been in her entire life, being with Luke. She wonders if lying here with him—being here with him—will get in the way of his Jedi training. Yoda hadn't wanted him to start until morning, but with Clary waking them up so late at night, she doubts he'll be ready early in the morning to begin. She pushes the thought away, though: she'll enjoy the sweet simplicity of this moment for as long as she can.

She tries to fall back asleep but it seems as if she can hear every little sound that echoes throughout the swamp of Dagobah. She jerks at the sudden noise of the murky water splashing nearby and her tense movement causes Luke to stir. Clary feels her face warm with guilt—she hadn't noticed he'd fallen asleep until now. Luke holds her close, resting his head on top of Clary's, as he whispers soothingly to her, voice heavy with sleep.

"I'm here, Clary...it's all right. I'll never leave you. I'm here...I'll always be here for you."

Clary's heart flutters with hope—the ache in her chest is replaced with a different ache, an ache that makes her heart scream instead of her lungs. She doubts Luke will remember this moment when he wakes again, but Clary knows she'll never forget it.

R2-D2's beeping is what wakes Clary up next. She blinks, sitting upwards as she stretches, the cold floor of the swamp causing various aches in her back. She squints, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she looks around. Luke is gone but she can hear the faint, eager shouts of Yoda echoing amongst the trees.

Clary is about to get on her feet when Yoda and Luke reappear—it's quite the sight to see, with the small creature clinging tightly onto Luke's back. The younger Jedi leaps from the thick vines of the trees growing around the swamp until he lands on the floor nearby. His muscles flex and Clary can't recall when he had gotten so built.

"Run!" Yoda exclaims. Luke sighs but obeys his master as he jumps back up onto the trees, climbing and flipping through the air. Clary smiles, following after them slowly with R2-D2 close behind. He lets out a beep and Clary laughs.

"Yes, a Jedi's strength flows from the Force," she hears Yoda instruct. "But beware of the dark side. Anger...fear...aggression; the dark side of the Force are they. Easily they flow, quick to join you in a fight. If once you start down the dark path, forever will it continue to dominate your destiny. Consume you, it will, as it did Obi-Wan's apprentice."

Luke lands on the floor of the swamp again. "Vader," he mutters. He glances over his shoulder, noticing Clary and R2-D2 before glancing back at Yoda on his back. "Is the dark side stronger?"

"No...no..." Yoda shakes his head. "Quicker, easier, more seductive."

Clary remains silent. She stares at the ground. Could the cloaked figure in her dreams be linked to something dark? The thought of it makes every part of her body shudder with cold fear.

"But how am I to know the good side from the bad?"

"You will know," Yoda says. "When you are calm, at peace—passive. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack."

"But tell me why I can't—"

"No, no, there is no why," Yoda interrupts almost immediately. "Nothing more I will teach you today. Clear your mind of questions."

Luke sighs, relaxing his shoulders as he lets Yoda down to the ground. R2-D2 lets out a sharp beep, gaining the young Skywalker's attention. His gaze lands on the droid, first, before Clary. Breathing heavily from the training, he grabs his jacket from a nearby tree branch, pulling it over his shoulders.

"Oh, no need to put that on now that I'm here, pretty boy," Clary teases. Luke smiles but puts the jacket on nonetheless. He meets her gaze, nodding.

"Are you all right?" he asks, concerned. Clary sighs.

"Yes, I suppose."

His eyes scan her face longer than they should. Clary avoids his gaze; she still hadn't forgotten the nightmare, and she knows that Luke hasn't either, but she doesn't want to get in the way of his training. She lifts her head to glance at Yoda. The small creature sits on a large root nearby, watching the two intently, expression unreadable.

Luke has moved from standing beside Clary to peer at a huge, dead black tree. Giant twisted roots form a dark cave on one side. Just by staring at it, Clary can see him trembling. Her gaze flickers between Luke to Yoda.

"There's something not right here," Luke mutters. Clary looks back at the tree. As she stares longer at it longer, she feels a rush of adrenaline course through her. The darkness is so familiar it's startling. She gasps, stumbling backwards, her chest tightening. Her blood runs cold and she collapses on the ground, breathing ragged and lethargic. Luke is by her side immediately. He rests a hand on her shoulder and Clary inhales sharply. She meets his gaze, which is steady, the complete opposite of her.

"Clary, are you all right?"

R2-D2 beeps faintly from beside them as he wheels towards Clary in concern. She glances the droid's way before nodding. She meets Luke's gaze again but he's unconvinced.

"Are you sure?"

Clary opens her mouth to insist she's fine, but she cuts off. The power that seems to emanate from the tree holds her down—the pressure is too familiar to her dreams. "I...I feel..." Her voice trails off. She feels Luke staring at her but ignores it as she continues to watch the cave with hesitation. She feels as if she's looking into the eyes of death itself.

Luke nods. His grip on her tightens in attempts of comfort. "Yeah, I feel it too." He looks to his right and Clary follows his gaze. Yoda is still watching them.

"That place...is strong with the dark side of the Force. A domain of evil it is. In you must go." He nods to Luke. Clary turns away, staring at the floor of the clearing, a sense of shock consuming her. Had her dreams all been induced by the dark side?

"What's in there?" Luke asks.

Yoda blinks. "Only what you take with you."

Clary doesn't look up until Luke shifts positions. She watches as his gaze flickers from the tree to Yoda warily. His eyes then meet Clary's. She doesn't notice she's been shaking until Luke reaches forward, touching her cheek.

"Hey, it'll be okay."

Clary only gives a small nod in response; his hand is warm and comforting, much like himself. He rises to his feet, glancing at Clary once more before walking towards the tree branch, retrieving his weapon belt. He begins to strap it on but stops as Yoda shakes his head.

"Your weapons...you will not need them."

Luke glances back at the cave, shaking his head. Clary watches as a look of disappointment crosses Yoda's face, but he makes no move to convince Luke otherwise as he brushes aside some hanging vines, entering the tree. Clary looks away again, staring at her feet. She can breathe normally, now, but the pressure on her chest hasn't gone away. She can still feel it faintly, a reminder of something greater than the cave, plagued with darkness.

"Tempted by the dark side, you are," Yoda says suddenly, startling Clary. She looks up and R2-D2 gives a flurry of beeps in dismay, sitting beside Clary. She stares at Yoda.

"I—"

"Your dreams," Yoda continues, interrupting her. He looks ahead, avoiding her gaze as he adds, "That is the dark side's way. Listen not to them. Your enemy, they are."

Clary remains silent. She's stunned that Yoda knows the meaning of her nightmares. He finally turns his head, meeting her gaze with the same guarded look in his large eyes.

"Powerful, your mother was," he murmurs. "Very powerful."

Clary blinks. "You knew my mother?"

"Worked alongside her, I did," Yoda nods. "Friend of Jedi alike, she was—"

"Ben knew her?" Clary interrupts, eyes wide. "Why didn't he tell me?"

Yoda meets her gaze with such intensity she feels guilty interrupting him. "Some things are better left unknown," he replies, leaving Clary feeling cold. She looks away again, staring at the floor of the clearing once more. R2-D2 beeps hesitantly, bumping into her. She ignores him.

"Strong with the Force, you are," Yoda continues. Clary glances at him as he digs his stick into the dirt. "Stronger than you think. The dark side is dominating, but fight it, you will."

Clary remains silent for a moment. "My mother...she wasn't good, was she?"

Yoda doesn't reply. Clary inhales slowly. Her gaze flickers back to the cave, the pressure of the darkness seems to call out to her. She turns her head, forcing herself to ignore it. It reminds her of her dreams; they've always been something she hates remembering, but does anyway. For as long as she can remember she's had the dreams, with the same cloaked figure and the same whisper. All along it had been the dark side—all along it had been her mother.

"Your mother, you are not," Yoda says suddenly, bringing Clary out of her thoughts. "Clear your mind of doubt. Strong with the Force, you are. Remember that."

Clary forces a nod but her head throbs—her mind is overwhelmed with thoughts, pounding against her skull. She feels as if she's been betrayed her whole life; she feels angry that Ben hadn't told her of her mother, she feels angry that she hadn't known all along. Her frustration makes her clench her fists.

"Anger is the dark side," Yoda says. Clary glances his way, but he's not looking at her. He's watching the cave, instead, his walking stick still driven into the ground. "Let it not dominate you."

Clary doesn't answer. She stares at the clearing. R2-D2 remains silent, but wheels towards her, bumping her gently: Clary glances back at him, and then reaches over to rub the top of his head. He tentatively beeps out a concern and Clary sighs, forcing a smile.