Title: Hopelessness
Author: Deja Vu
Summary: Luke can't take rejection any more, and he is ready to resort to drastic measures. Is there hope for him in the form of Mara Jade? (This was written when I was a beginning writer at 15 or 16 and thus probably isn't the most plausible thing in the world.)
Rating: No language, drug overdose, depression.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, but this story is mine.
Characters: Luke, Mara, and others.

"Luke," Han Solo said sternly, trying to reason with his brother-in-law. "You're one of the most eligible bachelors in the galaxy. Why don't you just try giving someone a chance?"

"Try not. Do or—"

Han cut Luke off. "Don't you spit that mindless philosophy in my face, kid."

"It's not mindless—" Luke tried to defend his former Jedi Master, but he was interrupted again by the persistent smuggler.

"If you never try, then how in space are you supposed to know whether it would have worked or not?"

Luke didn't reply. He just looked down at the ground sadly.

Oops, Han thought. Must've struck a nerve.

He tried to perk the Jedi up, "That one gal—Selane wasn't it?—sure was throwing herself at you...And she's not that bad-looking either..."

"Han!" Luke exclaimed. "You're married!"

"Yeah, but I ain't dead," the older man gave one of his famous rogue grins.

Luke chuckled. "Yet."

"Hey, c'mon...I know you want a family, kid. I can see it in your eyes every time that you play with the twins and Anakin. But how in space are you supposed to find that perfect person if you don't even give anyone a chance?"

Luke merely shook his head slowly from side to side. Han just didn't understand...Luke knew who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with...

And it was no longer about him giving someone a chance...It was about her giving him a chance.

He'd tried to turn his attention towards other girls, but his attempts were always fruitless. After his heart had finally accepted that Callista was not the right girl for him, he had come to an important realization: he knew exactly who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He'd never really believed in soulmates until it had hit him that there was one woman who had effortlessly captured his heart the day he met her. Like a stubborn fool, it had taken him years to finally admit that to himself.

She wasn't perfect. But no human was.

Yet, he loved her despite her flaws...No, he loved her for her flaws. She made him feel human...Unlike others who made him feel as if they thought of him as the omnipotent ruler of the universe.

He had waited his whole life to meet and finally marry the girl of his dreams...

But he couldn't wait anymore.

It was a thoroughly depressed and somber Luke that went home that seemingly unimportant night. Of course, that was his general mood nowadays.

He slowly but purposefully walked into his room and glanced sideways at the chrono. 1056 hours.

He sat quietly down on his bed, heaving a great sigh and looking down at his hands dejectedly. His were hands that could wield a lightsaber with ease, and even easily support his body when he turned upside down to levitate boulders with his mind...But they weren't hands that had gently and without pretense touched the soft cheek of the woman that he loved...And that was what he wanted. Not strong hands that were meant to harm, but gentle hands that were meant to caress.

He sighed in frustration and loneliness, gradually lowering himself onto his bed.

He knew who he loved.

But she doesn't love you, a dark voice whispered in his ear tauntingly.

I don't know that! he sent back to the disembodied voice, trembling.

Don't fool yourself. You're just a worthless farmboy from Tatooine. Why would shebe interested in you

Luke's jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists. "No!" he shouted into his pillow, sobbing. He pounded angrily on the bed. "What did I do to deserve this!"

After a few moments of muffled yells, he suddenly quieted and stilled.

Luke stood up decisively and strode swiftly into his 'fresher, looking into the mirror with a slight feeling of disgust.

A gaunt face covered with stubble stared back at him. He gently rubbed his face, watching the movement in the mirror.

After making a grunt of frustration, he shoved his left hand against the sink, not even grimacing as pain shot up his arm like an electric current. He looked down at his hand emotionlessly. Sighing, he shook his head slightly in a disapproving manner. Then his critical gaze raised back to the mirror.

He had lost a lot of weight. He hadn't been eating much lately; his appetite had diminished greatly due to his growing depression. It was no wonder that Leia had persistently begged him repeatedly to come to dinner at her place. He was in need of a haircut and shave desperately, and his eyes were blood-shot from lack of sleep. But he no longer cared about his appearance.

Why should he?

She didn't care about his appearance. She didn't care about him at all.

Yes. She was one of the closest to perfect beings in all of creation...but to her, he was just scum under her boot.

She was his soulmate!

But evidently she didn't care. Didn't care about him...didn't care about his life.

Luke's blurred gaze remained fastened on the mirror in front of him, but his thoughts were still on the woman he loved. She was strong where it counted, and she was as beautiful as life itself. But she didn't love him.

Yes...He had finally realized that he had found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. But the chances of her ever feeling the same way about him were slim to none. If not less than that.

If she'd only give him the opportunity to prove himself, so she could see him for who he truly was...Then Luke could finally feel like he actually belonged somewhere and be complete inside and out. But there was little likelihood she'd agree with his sentiments...And he couldn't wait forever. He couldn't stand the hurt any longer.

He looked out beyond the open 'fresher door to where his lightsaber lay invitingly on his bedside table. Almost like it had aboard the Death Star when Palpatine had asked him to take it and strike him down with it.

He'd taken it...But he hadn't been able to kill Palpatine. He had been stopped.

And fate would probably stop him again if he took that way out.

The Jedi shook his head in a barely perceptible manner. The lightsaber was a no.

He reached up and opened the medicine cabinet, and the mirror slowly swung to the side with an ominous creak that whispered, Do it...Life holds nothing more for you...

It was with reluctant finality that he opened the bottle and spilled the contents in his awaiting hand.