Hello there! :)

I'm so happy to publish this story! However, believe me or not I have had many doubts about this one.

It's not a very happy story, remember, never do drugs, they are not the way to solve any problems, and you are not alone when you have such a problem. There is always someone who is able to help.

That story is kind of a psychological project. I wanted to show that drugs can lead to disastrous effects although they might seem to be helpful at first. They never are.

Now, some information. Anakin is 19, the war began but he still is a Padawan. There are no mentions of his relationship with Padmé. The story is also available on AO3 if some of you find that site to be better. :)

TRIGGER WARNINGS

Drug abuse. Very bad feelings.

If somehow that offends you, I highly recommend to leave. :)

I will put a trigger in every chapter, because I don't want any spoilers at the very beginning (and triggers change in every chapter).

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me.

~~~ Chapter 1 ~~~

He laid his head on the pillow in his dark room, thinking about everything what had happened. Images of dead people and killed clones ran through his head anxiously, leaving only tears and screams in his mind.

He sees fire, hears shots and cries of pain.

Then, in one second, everyone lies dead. And he is watching. Guilty for everything, blamed for his mistakes.

He shifted in the bed, rested on his left side. With a grimace of pain, he buried his face in the white pillow, trying to hold the sob off, trying to keep it inside.

Not a month since the Clone Wars began, and he has already failed as a Commander.

How can he look at other Jedi?

How can he look at Obi-Wan? Oh, he will be very unhappy. Will he even stand seeing him? He would not like to know his reaction, he would not like to see this disappointment in his face.

He's surely learned of the results of the mission by now. He definitely is angry.

With a heavy sigh, he sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed his tired eyes. It wasn't really late yet.

The sun was slowly hiding behind the horizon but he knew that Obi-Wan would be here soon. He knew he would come to tell him how hopeless he is, what failure he has become. And he will not want to have him as a Padawan any longer. It wouldn't be anything surprising, though.

All these people, the Jedi Council, the clones... they all relied on him. And he failed. He failed, failed, failed! What kind of Jedi is he?

He sighed again and looked at the door. Should he be waiting here until his Master comes and throws him out?

No. No he will not survive this.

He will go find distraction, yes. He should do something to forget about the pain and feeling of hopelessness.

And he won't have to meet Obi-Wan now.

Or maybe his Master wouldn't come tonight to pay him a visit as he usually does. Maybe this time he is too angry to talk to him or even to see him. Again, nothing strange. He barely could look at himself anyway.

Silently, he left the room, head throbbing with still clear flashbacks of the fight, and headed somewhere where no one shall find him anytime soon.

~~~o*o~~~

He gave the Temple one last glance before leaving. He wondered if other Jedi Padawans and their Masters already know about his failure.

Words spread really quickly within these walls, especially if it comes to the mighty Chosen One. He should not make any mistakes, he should be perfect. That's what everyone expects.

And he is not. He has never been. The Council has rights to doubt him, he is nothing more than a loser who led his people to death.

With the same feeling of guilt, taking his hood on, he rushed to the busy streets of Coruscant, diving into the underworld of the city.

He didn't really know what he expected and what he was looking for. He was just walking aimlessly, trying to quiet the voices in his head.

His dark robes weren't very eye-catching, and he really didn't mind it. After all, Coruscant lower levels weren't the best place for a Jedi to be.

All of a sudden, loud music from one of the clubs rang in his ears and something pushed him to enter the busy building. He couldn't explain this, he just headed there, feeling more and more awful.

He shouldn't even think about going inside but... what can possibly happen there? Nothing. He will be on guard all the time.

Perhaps if he takes a few shots, it won't kill him, right? Maybe it will make him forget.

These people were still shouting from pain, the smell of blood was tormenting his nostrils.

And even if he was trying, he could not throw them out of his head.

He walked into the big, crowded club. Colourful lights forced him to squit his eyes until he adjusted to them. The music was even too loud to his liking but still, it did not stop the voices of the victims.

He sat next to the bar, where he could see some hookers and gamblers. Even though no one has paid attention to the young man in the dark robes, he did not dare to take the hood off. He shouldn't be here now. He should be in the Temple.

But there, everything reminded him of the failure. Besides, he wasn't ready to hear from his Master that he is too disappointing to be a Jedi.

He ordered a drink, the bartender didn't even ask him about the age. In fact, he didn't seem to be interested in it.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax. Why couldn't he?

The liquor was bitter. He automatically wanted to throw it up, probably because he wasn't used to drinking alcohol.

He would love to get drunk to forget, but he also knew he wouldn't hide it very well. Besides, it wouldn't kill his pain. He needed something more than that.

He sighed, trying to swallow the colourful liquid. He wasn't strong enough even to drink alcohol, what was wrong with him?

"Psst..." he suddenly heard a hoarse, quiet whisper and it took him a moment until he realised the voice was talking to him.

He turned around and saw a hooded Zabrak man, much older than him. His robes were black and he was holding something in his hand. A bag of some sort. But he did not ask, hoping that if he doesn't react, the man will simply go away.

Yet, it has not happened.

He was staring at him silently, trying to tell him that his presence wasn't anything he'd like to feel now. The Zabrak didn't get it.

"You look like someone who needs some peace." the man said to him quietly.

He frowned and faced him.

"Yes. And you look like someone who's disturbing it." he snapped, harsher than he intended to. He didn't really want to be rude, but his desire to be left alone won.

The Zabrak chuckled hoarsely, there was something strange in this voice. It actually intrigued him but he kept straight face.

"I am the one who can give it to you." he grinned, showing his a bit yellow, a bit white teeth.

Anakin looked at him, his eyes were a bit red from crying. He should have controlled his emotions better. He should have controlled them at all. He was a Jedi. Or he thought he had been. But none Jedi should taste such failure like he did today.

But... how could he have known it was a trap?

He closed his eyes again, the music gave him a headache. But as the man chuckled again, he opened them and glanced at him, blinking.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." the Zabrak smirked and showed him the baggie Anakin had seen earlier. "This."

The boy looked at it closely, frowning in focus. It contained some little white crystals that appeared to be drugs.

"What's this?" he asked, wanting to make himself sure.

"Something that can help you relax. Trust me, your mind will be as calm as it has never been." the dealer grinned.

Anakin once again glanced at the plastic bag and looked around, thinking. Maybe the Zabrak was right... but still, he shouldn't. He shouldn't, Obi-Wan would be disappointed even more.

On the other hand, though, what his Master doesn't know, won't kill him.

... Right?

"How much?" he asked firmly, trying to swallow the lump which formed in his throat.

"How much do you have?"

Anakin reached for his wallet and showed the man some credits, enough to order another three drinks, in case it is too little to that man.

The Zabrak looked at it closely, what the young Jedi found a bit offending, but he didn't care. Perhaps drugs would help him.

"Good. They are yours." he whispered in satisfaction after a moment.

Then, handed him five bags of the white gears. Anakin gave him money and prayed that no one inappropriate saw that.

"You know where to find me next time." the man yet winked at him and disappeared in the crowd like a fog.

Anakin couldn't see him anymore. He was alone. At last. He could think.

~~~o*o~~~

Obi-Wan simply needed to talk to Anakin. He's just learnt about the mission.

The first mission of Anakin that gave him an opportunity to command. The first mission during the war when he, his Master, couldn't be with him. Also, the first mission whose the results where shocking as never before.

No, of course he wasn't angry with Anakin, he didn't have a reason to. No one is perfect, everyone makes mistakes. The best is to learn from the experience to prevent them from happening in the future.

But Anakin... things aren't so easy with him, he certainly is very upset. He doesn't think like other Jedi, he surely blames himself for everything. He knew him too well not to guess. And he wanted, he had to talk to him.

He headed to the dormitory and Anakin's quiet quarters, hoping to find him there. Where could he be anyway? It was late, and most of the Jedi have already been asleep.

The corridors were empty. Night has fallen quickly, but Coruscant was alight as always. Lights of speeders, clubs, billboards were bright every night, even the Temple wasn't as dark.

When he got to his Padawan's room, he couldn't sense anything. The door opened with a hiss and he entered the grim place without a word.

"Anakin?" he called quietly. He looked around, but there was no one in his sight.

He stepped further but the room was totally empty. Worry took over him, because at that hour, his apprentice is supposed to be here, resting after the rough day, rough mission.

He reached out for him in the Force to see if he's near. He wasn't. He wasn't even in the Temple.

He didn't know if he should wait or return to his quarters. But Anakin wasn't a small boy anymore, if he left the Temple, he must have had reasons. Right?

He is different, much different. He doesn't let go of feelings that simply. He must have gone somewhere peaceful to calm the thoughts down, like he always used to do when he was younger.

Sighing, he left the room, hoping his apprentice was safe and sound.

He will see him at the morning. They do need a talk and the talk they will have. Anakin must know he isn't to be blamed. As young as he is, not used to the war yet, it isn't anything bad that he had failed the task. He will have time to learn. It doesn't make him worse.

If only Obi-Wan had been able to tell him that...

Besides, he should have been with him there, he is his Master. It's his fault. He thought his Padawan was up to the challenge. But commanding an army isn't easy. Not for someone so young and inexperienced.

No, he doesn't doubt him, he never did. But he had to admit, he is only 19. The war can be overwhelming for someone that young, the teenager. The pressure can be too much sometimes. Especially with Anakin's special character.

He also hoped his Padawan would understand it one day as well as he does.

~~~o*o~~~

It was the middle of the night when he returned to the Temple. He hasn't been noticed by anyone, they all should be sleeping now.

He was wondering if Obi-Wan came to him. And if he was furious or just angry.

His room was empty, everything was like he had left it.

He sat on the bed and looked at the bag in his hand. He was afraid. Yes, he really was. Another reason why he isn't good enough to be a Jedi. The Chosen One shouldn't even think about drugs. It isn't the way to escape his problems.

He swallowed thickly. It's all because of the failure, the loss. Of his lack of commanding skills.

If he had been cautious enough, none of this would have happened.

The clones would have been alive. The villagers would have been alive. He would have been alive.

But he was dead. Anakin Skywalker, the one supposed to bring balance to the Force, was dead.

The guilt, sadness, anger, fear. These were feelings he couldn't control. They were too strong, just like these voices in his head.

When he reminded himself how those people were shouting, he opened the bag impatiently and emptied it. He looked at the white substance, sighing helplessly.

Has he really fallen that low?

... Apparently.

There was nothing he could do. Just watch as they all die.

He bent over and froze. He shouldn't, for Force's sake, it isn't a good way. But if it's the only one, good or not - it should not matter.

He sighed, thought about death, about the disappointment he certainly caused, about everyone he failed. About Obi-Wan.

He closed his eyes and with a few quick moves, he sniffed it all, feeling slight burning in his nostrils.

He dropped the bag to the floor, kicking it under the bed.

For the first few moments, he felt nothing, just numbness and beating of his heart. Then, tickling in his fingers. And in toes.

He could already tell that his pulse quickened. His senses started to be... different.

Everything spun around for some good seconds and he landed on his back in the bed, watching the ceiling which was now nothing but a big dark blur.

He let out a small gasp when a sudden wave of relief fell upon him.

He chuckled quietly, he did not hear voices. He did not feel the guilt. In fact, he felt nothing. He was numb. His mind was... clouded, and he liked it.

All of a sudden he stopped worrying, he could forget about the reality. Just for a few moments. He would worry later.

He could not tell how long he has been lying like that, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time.

However, when his world again started spinning around, he closed his eyes and let the drug do its job. He remembered no more.

~~~o*o~~~

Obi-Wan awoke with first rays of the sun, feeling light and warmth on his bearded face. He slept quite well although he couldn't throw his thoughts about Anakin out of his head. Is he alright? Is he asleep? Has he come back?

He had to find it out. Yet, from the experience he could tell that going so early wouldn't be very effective.

If Anakin came back, he was surely still sleeping. And there was no way to drag him out of the bed. He tried not once.

He sat up, rubbed his face and yawned. He wanted to enjoy every moment of peace, when he doesn't have to be on a battlefield.

The war hasn't been lasting long, but he already was tired of the fight and surrounding him death of poor, innocent people. They have already lost many Jedi and troopers, while Separatists grow in strength every new day.

He got dressed in his casual Jedi clothes and left the room to go for a small walk. He headed straight to the Room Of Thousand Fountains. The beauty of this place has always been able to calm him down. Maybe this time won't be different.

He got there and met Master Fisto with his Padawan - Nahdar Vebb.

The Mon Calamari bowed as he saw him.

He answered with the same. Then, he greeted Master Fisto, that has been his good friend for a few years by now.

"Good morning, my friend." he bowed lowly, lightly smiled.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan. What are you doing here?" Kit asked.

"I wish to meditate a little. I need to clear my mind."

"And where's your apprentice?"

"I do hope he's sleeping in his quarters. After the battle, he had needed some rest." he stated firmly and looked at the Nautolan Master.

Fisto glanced at his apprentice and smiled at him slightly. Nahdar blinked.

"Padawan, can you go meditate? I'll join you in a minute." he said with certainty, yet gently.

"Yes, Master." the apprentice answered with a slight, respectful nod.

Obi-Wan wondered what would it be like if Anakin went meditate that obediently. But he knew he is probably never going to see that.

Kit placed a hand on his shoulder and they both walked away from the Padawan silently.

"Have you talked to him?" asked the Jedi Master.

"No." sadly, he shook his head and looked down. "In fact, I haven't even seen him yet."

"Really?"

"Yes. He wasn't in his room when I wanted to talk about it. I believe he just went somewhere to relax. But... I hope he won't do anything foolish."

"Why would he? He is a bright boy, isn't he?" Master Fisto smiled and they stopped for a moment. Obi-Wan smiled at the thought of Anakin's intelligence.

"Of course he is, I have never doubted that. It's just... I'm worried about him. He-- I'm not sure if he is able to get over such a loss that quickly."

He watched Fisto's face, and a nod followed by a sigh.

"Indeed. Many good troopers were buried on this battlefield."

"This war requires victims, unfortunately."

Kit nodded in agreement, without a word. He didn't like the way it gets either. There's still too little Jedi to win. Even with the help of the clones, their chances weren't too huge.

"All we have to do, is to hope it will end soon."

Now, it was his turn to nod.

They talked yet for a few moments. He almost forgot that he had come here to meditate. But he can't focus.

He just wishes Anakin was here.

He didn't know if he should check on him right now or wait a little longer.

But what good will come if he waits? Probably none. And Anakin needs this talk as much.

"With my respect, Master, I would like to go see my apprentice now." he bowed lowly and smiled. "I don't want to wait too long with that."

"Of course, Obi-Wan. Go talk to him. And remember about the sparring session today. Master Windu will be awaiting you."

"Yes, Master." he bowed again, so did Kit.

Saying one last goodbye to Master Fisto, he rushed to the dormitory, hoping to find his young apprentice there.

T.B.C