Disclaimer: Not mine, but I would treat them really nice if they were! (Ok, they might get elfed, but nothing major;)

Authors note: Suicidial ideations. If this disturbs you, stop reading here.


Lucas walked in his quarters, quietly closing the door behind him. His mind was whizzing in a million different directions. He turned on the monitor closest to him, then turned on playlist 5. It was all the Pink Floyd albums. The Final Cut was the first album. He sat on his bunk to think.

Lucas stared at the wall, not really seeing it, just letting his eyes focus on it. It provided his brian with the simpleness it needed. He struggled to find a positive solution to this problem, but it wouldn't come. He was about to lose the most important thing in his life, and there was nothing he could do about it. They said it would be ok, that they would come back, but he knew otherwise. Nothing he loved ever came back. It was kind of like death. Once you let what you loved go, it was gone forever.

Death...that was no new thought. He only had a small portion of his brain that wanted to live. The other, largest part considered death ok. Death accepted everyone, not really caring who or what you were. It didn't really care how you got there, just glad you were there.

The smaller portion of his brain fought to keep sane, to not join the other part. It still held the hope that the promises would come true, that they would come back. It argued loudly, screaming that something good could come in this life, he just had to find it.

The larger part only laughed. Every time something good happened, it had a bad ending.

Lucas laughed as tears ran down his face. He could almost hear the sides of his brain argueing. He wondered if he was really losing it, finally having the last break down. It was funny, once he finally let the break down take effect, life became very clear, almost fighteningly easy to distinguish right form wrong.

He gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to die. He wanted to live, just to spite the people that said he'd never make it on his own. He laughed ironically at the knowledge that if he were dead it really wouldn't matter what those people thought. He didn't want to die in pain, he'd already felt enough of that.

He wanted to die simply in his sleep. He knew several medications that would nicely take care of that. It was kind of sad, but he knew exactly how much morphine would kill him. It was a relatively simple way to die, all he had to do was give the injection. He would calm down, his body would relax, hell, he might even have a nice hallucination or two, then his respirations would slowly start to decrease. That was the bad side effect of morphine that doctors had to take into consideration. It was a wonderful anti-anginal, but it also decreaed your respirations. He had studied enough medications to know what did what.

He relaxed onto his bunk, stareing at the aqua tude. He didn't know which way he was going to go, but then again, he never did. He laid back letting himself fall asleep.