Later

[Svo'k Lynd]

*It was a week after that fateful day. The day that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He took in a deep breath, dressed all in black his blue eyes scanned the area around him, he was alone as alone could be, there was no one and nothing that could bother him. His blue eyes were reddened from tears as he sat there tucked away in some obscure corner of the Temple, some of which had still been largely unexplored since the Jedi returned here several years ago. Next to him sat an obscure black bottle that he had been eyeing for a long moment.

He thought about Adrian, his first born son, the one whom he would never lay eyes on in this life, or likely the next life again, if there was a next life. What was even the point anyway? It was his decisions, his alone that led to the death of his son and there was no way around that. If he had been a man and not a sixteen year old kid, then perhaps more of the blame could be placed on Adrian's shoulders, but that wasn't the case. He was his father and he did not do the best job, raising him as a Sith. Oh how Adrian adored him, the image of him training with Stevan Stormro flashed before his eyes and in an instant he grabbed the bottle and popped the cork off of it. He did not hesitate and drank directly from the bottle. The liquid burned his tongue and all the way down his throat with a burning sensation that provided temporary comfort in the way of numbness to his soul.

He had missed this.

He sighed and placed the bottle in his lap. Where was Kira when he needed her? Or Arik for that matter, they both knew how to comfort him, they both knew how to make him feel...something. At least something other than this, something other than the despair that seemed to follow him around his entire life. He sighed as the body of the lifeless boy that was his son permeated his thoughts, the still dead eyes, blue like his, but they weren't at peace and that much was obvious. It was obvious in the feeling of the moment and moreover obvious in the way he died, his soul, his being was in a state of angst and torment. He died on the twins' birthday, clearly he missed them, clearly he had tried to do something that would get Svo'k's attention, clearly it was about that. He took another long drink from the bottle, it sloshed as he set it back in his lap and he winced as the liquid entered his body, the comfortably numb sensation that followed in the back of his throat pushed the thoughts away only for a moment, but it was that moment that he sought, that brief moment of reprieve, the moment where Adrian was still alive and they were all together as a happy and functional family.

He brushed his Padawan braid away, what would Sarvos think of this? He didn't care, Sarvos could go kriff himself for all he cared, he was allowed a moment, he was allowed this brief moment to reflect on his parenting ability or lack thereof and wallow in his own self pity. He had been a decent Jedi up until then, he had put his best foot forward and tried to be a good man. He was allowed this moment in his life.

He took the bottle and pressed it against his lips for a longer drink this time before returning it to his lap. Not much time had past and the bottle was nearly a quarter of the way empty. In a few moments, his head would start to feel off kilter, his thoughts would be slower, his actions would be delayed, but he was a Jedi, intoxication was different, it was as if his senses were dulled, he could still fly a speeder, he could still call upon the forced to center himself. So that made it okay, he had that crutch to fall back on. He had that sense of will, that feeling of power over his own mortality and physical body.

His tongue ached for more, more of that delightfully numbing burn that eased his senses. He took another long drink, this one even longer than the last, he was feeling dizzy, he dare not stand up now as the bottle was half empty and he had not had a drink in years, four to be exact. Four years. It was four years since he came to this temple and lost Adrian forever, but he did not know that then, he thought that maybe some day Adrian would come back. He should have never let him leave in the first place after his outburst. Svo'k was the parent, Svo'k could have stopped him, he could have had the Jedi arrest him right then and there and he would still be alive. Then everything would have been okay, he blinked and took another long swig of the bottle, again setting it down his lap, his vision blurred, the bottle shifted a bit and some of the contents spilled onto his lap.

Why was he wearing black? He had forsaken that color. Oh...it was for Adrian. He righted the bottle and picked it up, and took another drink, some of it going in his mouth, some dripping down the sides of it and onto his tunic. Adrian.

He sighed. He never should have been a parent, in fact he never should have even been born, his entire life was one poor decision after another. He had his children, at least some of them because Adrian was...Adrian was...*

KRIFFING DEAD! YOU KRIFFING FAILURE.A.S.....IDIOT!!!...MORON!

*He was a failure as a parent. Johnathon could attest to that, Johnathon was so terribly plagued with his visions, was that a birth defect from all the drugs Svo'k was on at the time? Was it?! He had no way of knowing. He reached into his pocket and threw some small yet long multicolored objects on the bench next to him. He took a breath and took another drink as the stick like objects stared back at him menacingly, his blue eyes glazed over. He shook his head, he didn't need them, he shouldn't, but it would all go away. All of it.

He picked one up, he swayed as he sat there staring at it. It alone had the power to make it all go away, all of it. Every sensation that he was feeling right now up to and including the advanced state of inebriation. What was stopping him? He had done it before, he had indulged in it and other spices so many times before, what would one more do? He took it and bit into it. For a moment he sat there, the contents in his mouth. His body shook, some of it entering his blood stream through the capillaries in his lips, but the majority of it rested on his tongue. It had that taste, the taste of some pharmacological item that you were supposed to swallow, but bit instead and it just tasted like something that didn't belong. He spit it out and threw the stick across the room and immediately took a long swig from the bottle to was the taste out.

Adrian.

His son, the bottle was nearly empty, only one or two drinks remaining. He brought it to his mouth again. He sat there with the glass pressed against his lips for a long moment.

Adrian.

Alex.

Johnathon.

Damien.

Miranda.

Luka...*


"KRIFFING OSIK!"

*He took the bottle and smashed it against the bench, the glass shattering, some of it embedding itself in his right palm. The blood flowed freely around the wound, nearly invisible against his black and white Sith tattooed hands. He shook again. The tattoos, surely Adrian had seen all of those and thought how amazing they were, thought....how cool it would be to grow up and be just kriffing like him.

The pain from the glass was delayed due to his inebriation, but when it finally came, it came in waves, a sensation that seemed to come and go. One moment he would be reminded it was there, the next it would be gone again.He looked down and tried to pick the pieces out, this was going to be a kriffing infirmary trip wasn't it? Then surely Kaytren would find out and then Sarvos, oh what the kriffing hell?! He could take care of it. He stood up, and tried to steady himself.

He swayed, and started picking pieces of glass out from his hand wincing as he did so. Then....just then, the room started to move. Who was moving the temple? Everything swirled around him and there was a sense of falling and a thud that took the breath out of him. He gasped for a moment and looked towards the ceiling to get his bearings, but the ceiling was spinning, he reached out and grabbed the ground with both hands, driving the glass deeper into his right, but it's all he could do to hang on, lest he fly off into oblivion.

The edges of the room were starting to go black, what was happening, it was closing in on him! He tried to stand but could not move his legs. The darkness was encrouaching and there, there in the center of the room was Johnathon's face.

Johnathon Saw.

The room was black, everything had faded from existence and he lay there amongst scattered pieces of broken glass, breathing heavily, his eyes closed and his conscious mind set sail off to some distant place where the night would soon be forgotten, it's only reminder being pain in his palm and the headache that would surely follow the next day.*