Mission brings it up when the two of them are alone in the dorms.

They're sitting on Revan's bunk, and Mission is behind her, practicing braiding her hair. They've been quiet for some time. Revan keeps getting lulled by the motion of Mission picking up one strand of hair, crossing it over to the other side, and repeating it again and again. Her pace moves faster once she gets close to the end, right before she ties it off, and that's when she says, "I talked to Malak."

Revan glances over her shoulder at her before turning around fully. Mission's eyes are worried, and even in this shadowed light, her blue skin looks deeper. It makes her appear older than her nearly fifteen years. Revan raises a brow. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I wasn't nice to him," she starts, and Revan tries to imagine what that would look like—Mission and Malak—as she goes on to say, "I felt like I finally had the right place to put my anger. Taris was his fault, you know?"

"Yeah," Revan sympathizes, her stomach aching as it usually does when she thinks about Taris. She ignores it, though, and asks, "How did he take it?"

That's when Mission covers her eyes with one of her hands, leaning into it and taking a long moment to herself. Revan frowns, drawing closer. "Hey," she says, and she wraps an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay."

"It's not," Mission mumbles, but thankfully her voice is even. "Revan, it's not okay."

"What happened?" Revan asks, this time much more serious. Her concern feels palpable, from the way she holds Mission to the way her heart hammers in her chest.

But then Mission says, "He understood," and everything feels a little different after that.

"He understood?" Revan repeats, backing away from Mission so she can look at the girl who finally meets her eyes, conflict evident in her gaze.

She sighs. "He let me explain—or yell, I guess. I was so angry, Rev, and he just took it. He apologized, and then we talked for a really long time. I know he doesn't expect me to forgive him, but what else am I supposed to do with that?"

"Well, do you want to forgive him?" Revan asks, wondering what in the galaxy they could've talked about that would have Mission in such a state.

"Yeah," she answers, and there it is: the guilt.

"Mission," Revan starts, offering her a smile. "You don't have to hate him, and you especially don't have to hate him for my sake."

But Mission shakes her head. "I know I don't, but I want to. This whole thing—it's kind of a let down. Since the beginning he's been the enemy..."

"And now he's not."

"No," Mission says. "I don't think he is."

What did he say? her mother asks. How could he make her feel better about Taris?

Revan won't ask, no matter how curious she is. Instead she stays quiet, stays there for Mission as the girl obviously works through her conflicting thoughts. Finally she looks up and asks, "Do you hate him?"

"Me?" Revan asks. "Um...I hate what he's done, but honestly, Mish? I don't know him."

"But he knows you..."

What can she say to that? He knows her and he must know so much. There's so much there, but she doesn't know what it'll take for him to talk to her. Doesn't know if he'll ever talk to her, given the way he shut down when he realized what she'd done. She doesn't know what she expected, but it wasn't this.

No, it definitely wasn't this...

"Hey, but you saved his life," Mission says. "I think that means something."

And Revan can't help but grin. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Well, maybe some part of you still remembers him, even if you can't access the memories right now."

Revan watches her, her smile falling a little at the corners, but it doesn't fade all the way considering the hope in the young Twi'lek's eyes. Revan doesn't have the heart to tell her about how trying to reach the past leaves her blank and unsettled, leaves her with this sick feeling that churns low in her stomach and makes her head hurt. It's too much and not enough at the same time. It's hard to get past.

"Maybe," is all she says, squeezing the girl's shoulder.

"And maybe," Mission continues, "maybe that part of you still cares about him."

;;

Revan watches Malak from across the table, thinking about Mission. She misses her so much—they've been together since Taris, been through so much together, and now it's been a whole week since she's seen her. All of them—the whole crew, were together for so long, and now it's just Revan, Malak, and Jolee.

It's starting to feel strange.

Maybe some part of you still remembers him, Mission said all those weeks ago, and Revan watches Malak, wondering how he could be a stranger to her still, even after all this time, even after the other day at the lake—even now, sitting with him and Jolee at the table. The already dark forest gets darker as evening draws on, but inside the lamps flicker and cast unsteady light onto their faces. It makes Malak's blue eyes look gray as he watches Jolee, blinking slowly.

How can you care for someone you don't know? her mother asks.

Some version of me must have cared, she answers. And I care about her, so I should care about him.

And though he was paying attention to Jolee, Malak makes eye contact with her the moment the thought comes. Revan can't look away, even as his eyes squint slightly in confusion.

She's been trying to understand what happened between them the other day, but her thoughts are clouded by memories of panic. She can still feel it in her bones, but she can also still feel the tightening of Malak's arms around her, the assurance in his grip. Her guilt keeps getting bigger and there's nothing she can do about it. She's hardly said a word to him since then, but still, something's softer between them despite the distance. Malak looks to her more. He'll find her gaze in the morning, or she'll catch him watching her—there's something different in his eyes—but words have escaped them both.

Revan's never known what to say to him, but it feels like it's getting more difficult to figure it out.

That's where her mind stays for a while, watching him divide his attention between her and Jolee, until she hears Jolee say, "It's almost like the last time you two were here."

"What?" she asks immediately, finally taking her eyes off of Malak. Jolee looks at her with a slight grin, as though he said it purposefully, but it slowly dissipates as he takes in her expression.

"Jolee," Malak says lowly. A warning.

"When you were looking for the star map you stayed here for a few days," he explains, and Revan swears her heart's going to pound out of her chest as she looks between the two of them, completely different than a moment ago, and they both carry cautious expressions.

"You said you knew who I was," she says, "but you didn't say it was because you've met me already."

"Should I have?"

"Yes," she implores. "Do you not realize how unfair that is?"

He sighs. "Ah kid, there just wasn't the right time to say anything."

"And now is the right time?" she asks, feeling a sense of anger rise in her chest that she's been ignoring for some time now.

"Yes," he says, and he looks slyly at Malak before returning his gaze to her. "Yes, I think it is."

She looks at Malak as well, who's completely checked out of the conversation. His head is lowered and his eyes are locked on the table, at his hands before him, and he doesn't dare look at either of them. Revan shakes her head—this is too much. "I can't tell you how tired I am of being kept in the dark."

"Revan," Jolee starts.

"No—forget it," she says, standing up. She doesn't look at either of them as she heads towards the door. "It's fine, I just need some air."

It's not fine but she's tired of being this way—unhinged and difficult—so she'd rather get away. The sound of the door shuts behind her and it's colder out than she thought it would be, so she drags her sleeves down and holds them tight around her wrists. The cold hits her all at once, but she squints against it and takes off down one of the familiar paths.

Pull yourself together, her mother tells her as she wades through the tall grass, feeling her way forward as her eyes adjust to the dark. You're acting childish.

He knew, Revan defends.

Is this the way to deal with it?

She shakes her head. I don't know how to deal with any of it, that's the problem.

You know that's not true.

Revan ignores her. Somewhere behind her she can hear the sound of the door opening and closing again, so she sets her pace faster. She's not in the mood to deal with this, and yeah, maybe it is childish but does it matter? Does it change anything? Right now she'd rather freeze alone in these woods than talk about it.

Pushing a branch out of her way, she has to stumble back as a surprised tach jumps onto the path in front of her. The little creature hops back into the shelter of the tall grass and she hears a voice call out.

"Revan!"

That's Malak. She hesitates, but then turns her head. His tall figure isn't too far behind her and he catches up quickly, cutting through the grass and the dark haze of the forest floor.

"I thought you were Jolee," she says once he's in front of her, and she can't quite read his expression. She thought she was getting better at it, but maybe she was just fooling herself. She doesn't think she knows him at all.

He shakes his head, and he appears to be looking her over before he says, "He said to give you time."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because," he answers, and it takes him a long time to continue, "I wanted to explain."

"Explain what?"

"Jolee," he offers. "He wasn't hiding anything."

"Well, forgive me if I don't take your word for it."

"Revan..."

The thought doesn't go anywhere, and she has to start walking again. It's too cold to stand still, and she knows at this point that he'll come with her. He does. They fall into step and when he still doesn't continue, she says, "Either tell me something or don't, Malak. I don't think I care anymore."

"Yes you do."

"Fine, whatever," she says. "But I'm done bothering you about it, okay? I won't ask."

The silence stretches on and on, and Revan always finds it strange that they can sustain the quiet for as long as they do. She finds it strange that the two of them do better without words, because words always lead to arguments, and arguments get them nowhere. She finds it strange that when she looks up, the black void of the canopy blocks out the stars.

It takes a very, very long time for Malak to ask, "Is it because of the other day?"

She turns to look at him but he stares straight ahead. "What?"

"You, giving up." He meets her eye then, and she thinks he might be challenging her.

"I'm not giving up. I meant it when I said I was sorry. Obviously this has been hard for you, and I haven't been making it any easier."

"Revan," he says again, and pauses again. She doesn't understand what's weighing so heavily on him, can't get a good read on him, doesn't want to go there anymore.

When he still doesn't say anything, she offers, "We can just walk in silence, if you want."

She looks away, and though she only barely reaches his shoulder, she can see him nod in her peripheral. They walk and walk and it's cold but Revan can't really feel anything right now. Her mind is just a litany of how many people have lied to you about your past, and does anyone actually care about you, and where do you go from here?

Isn't that a good question...where does she go from here?

Where could she possibly go? There's no place in this galaxy where she can escape her past—escape herself. There's nothing she can do right now to fix this, and that might be what's frustrating her the most. That no matter how much she strategizes, no matter what she plans, there's no way out. There's nothing that can truly be done without the help of others, and right now she has no confidence that anyone will ever come through.

And there's a big thought behind it all, that there's something she's missing. There was something important she was supposed to remember, but it's just as lost as the rest of her memories.

She looks over at Malak, at his profile just barely illuminated by the misty light that shifts along the forest floor. It's funny how he can be so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time—like if she could reach back just a little further, she would know him by heart.

"We should head back," he says after a while.

Revan shakes her head, thinking about the hut, thinking about Jolee. "I don't want to."

"It's late," he argues, "and you're cold."

"I'm fine," she says. "You can go back without me."

He stops walking, and Revan tilts her head back in frustration before stopping as well, turning to face him. "What?" she asks.

"I'm not leaving you."

"I'll be fine."

"You say that a lot for someone who isn't fine, Revan."

"Well I'll be fine, Malak. I just need some time...or something. I don't know," she says, turning her head away. "I'll figure it out."

"No you won't," he says in return and she frowns at that, looking back at him. "You've never been fine, Revan. Not since you were a kid."

"What?" she asks, cursing the sound of hope in her voice.

He shakes his head. "I'm not getting into it."

"Oh," she says. "I just—forget it."

Malak looks at her with such an expression; it's right there and she can't name it. She stays where she is and shakes from the cold and the impact of what he's said. You've never been fine, Revan. What does she do with that?

He sighs. "I don't know how to tell you anything without having to explain all of it. Nothing makes sense on its own, and it's so much. All of it—it's too much."

"So what are you saying?"

"Even if I wanted to tell you about the past, it's too big. There's no way I can explain everything, but that doesn't mean I want you to give up," he clarifies, and she's confused for a moment until she remembers their conversation earlier. He goes on to say, "I'm worried about you."

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't answer at first, because of course he doesn't. His attention is drawn towards the line of trees beside them, and he takes a deep breath, exhaling with a soft sound. "It's not...simple."

"And I'm supposed to just accept that?"

"No," he says. "I don't know."

"Malak, I don't understand."

"Well I don't know what to say!"

"Then go back to the hut."

"I told you, I'm not leaving without you."

"Why?"

She sounds desperate and he doesn't answer her. They're facing each other, watching each other, and she thinks this might be the most confusing argument they've had. When he still doesn't say anything she has to take a long breath, focusing on calming her nerves as they rise in anger. "This is so frustrating, Malak."

He rubs his hand over his face. Frankly, he looks exhausted, but Revan doesn't know what to make of it. She doesn't know what to make of any of it—from his half answers to his hesitation to talk to her at all.

"Go back," she says again, and this time she turns away, leaving him behind her. She continues down the path but it takes only moments for the sound of his footsteps to follow. She bites down on the inside of her cheek but it doesn't stem the anger as much as she'd like it to. She just...doesn't understand.

Turning, she faces him again and he's with her again. They stand across from each other in an empty forest and Revan's voice is too loud, too harsh when she asks, "What is going on?"

"I don't know!" he yells. "I wanted you to leave me the hell alone and now that you are, I'm losing my mind. I still kriffing care about you, and I hate it. I hate being stuck with this half-version of you."

"Well I'm sorry I can't be what you want me to be. In case you didn't realize, it's not my fault!" she yells back. "I didn't ask for this!"

"I know you didn't! But it's what you got, and it's what I got. It's a bad ending, Revan, and you know what? We deserve it."

"For Force sake," she says. "What am I supposed to do about it? I don't even know what happened!"

"There's nothing you can do!"

"Then what do you want, Malak? What do you honestly, truly want?"

He takes his usual break from answering but Revan's not giving up this time. She keeps her eyes fixed on him, refusing to say a word, until he finally responds, "It doesn't matter now—you didn't give me what I wanted when it did."

How many more times will he throw that at her? "Do you still want me to kill you? We can make that happen, you schutta."

"No," he says immediately, and she doesn't think she imagines the way his eyes widen marginally. "I don't."

"Then what do you want?" she asks, bordering on begging.

"I want the old you back!"

And there it is. The truth takes a moment to sink in, leaving Revan's heart to slow as the weight of it hangs over her. Her voice is much quieter when she asks, "Then why aren't you helping me?"

He seems to take a step back as well, his shoulders drop and the harsh line of his gaze softens. "How will telling you about the past fix what the Jedi did to you?"

"I don't know, but at least it's something. Maybe it'll have meaning and maybe it won't, but I can't tell without your help."

"I don't want that to be my responsibility. I don't want to talk about the past, it was awful. Force, I hated you so much at the end. We destroyed each other, Revan. Why would you want to remember that?"

"Because it's still my life. Those are still my actions." She takes a breath. "Look, do you hate me now?"

"No."

"What would happen if I got my memories back? If I remembered everything that happened?"

He looks away. "I don't know. If you remembered the things you've done, then you might—"

"Might what?" Revan prompts.

"I don't know," he says again. "Things might go back to the way they were. Either good or bad, I never expected to live this long, and I certainly didn't expect to be here with you. This is—torture. This is hell. I don't know what I'm doing and I have nothing left, so. What can I say? That I miss you? You're standing right in front of me but it's not you. And then I think to myself, how does she feel? Is she as angry as I am? How can she be?"

"How can I not be angry?" she asks. "We're just...angry about different things."

"Lucky us," he says.

"Malak, I'm sorry." It feels necessary to say it again, after all of this. It feels necessary because it probably is necessary, because she doesn't even know the scope of how much she's hurt him in life.

But he just shakes his head. "Can we please go back now?"

She feels herself soften, watches the way his eyes are pleading with her. It's sad, isn't it? That this is where they are? This is what they're left with and it isn't much. Maybe she is lucky that she doesn't remember, that she doesn't have to be here with the knowledge of all that happened and know that everything went wrong and there's nothing she can do about it.

Maybe she condemned Malak to a fate worse than hers.

"Yeah," she murmurs. "We can go back."

It's just not the same, though, is it? That when they turn around, they're following the same path home but it looks completely different. And something in her chest aches, something large and heavy and she can't do anything about it—wouldn't even know where to begin. All she can do is watch the dark shapes of the trees and listen to the sound of the forest stirring—wild and alive.

It's the complete opposite of her and Malak. Neither wild nor alive.

And they don't talk anymore. She doesn't know what to say and she assumes the same from him. She's exhausted from arguing, exhausted from the emotion of it all. From him, from Jolee, from this whole damn planet. She'd just—she'd like to see the sun.

"I think," and she doesn't know why she's saying this aloud, "I'm tired of the dark."

He hums a sound that might be him agreeing. Even now he's shadowed. She can make out the line of his nose, up over his brow and down to his shoulders and his chest, but it doesn't feel like the whole of him. It's just pieces of him, and she watches for too long, doesn't take her eyes away even when she should.

There's just something about him. Something she can't put a name to.

"Do you really miss me?" she asks.

"Of course that's what you take away from all of this," he mutters, but his brows push together as he looks down. Where his expression was hard to read before, this one is quite obvious. He says, "You were my best friend, Rev. I've known you all my life."

Rev. She swallows hard. That ache in her chest gets just a little bigger, a little tougher to bear, but she pulls herself together enough to ask, "Really? Your whole life?"

He only nods.

"Sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to..."

"No," he answers immediately. "I think it's um, it's pretty clear I haven't figured out what I'm doing."

Revan smiles. It isn't happy but it feels honest. "Will you let me know when you do?"

"Yeah," he says absently, and then he looks at her. He fully looks at her and she feels like they might have some semblance of a chance at figuring this out. It's strange, because neither of them have hope, but it doesn't feel completely hopeless. He meets her gaze in the dark and they walk a little slower, two broken people who are broken in different ways, but Malak squints at her and says, "You'll be the first to know."

For now, it's enough.