"I want to scream 'I love you' at the top of my lungs, but why should I? Talking's just a breath, and living's just a waste of death, and why put a new address on the same old loneliness? It's nothing really - a lost cause, a long shot, a bet I should have never taken. We're a mess of youthful innocence, fireworks that went off too soon, and there are things I haven't told you, things I'll never tell you, secrets I'll take to my grave, but know this: I'd do it all again if I could." - Pete Wentz, scrawled in the margins of his copy of Collected Wisdom of the Jedi Masters

Patrick was standing on the edge of the sinkhole, and he wanted to scream. Pete was gone, and here he was, all alone in the galaxy, the last survivor of the Jedi Order. There was nothing left for him anymore, not without his old friends, not without the other Jedi, not without Pete Wentz. He'd never felt so hopeless, so empty inside.

Patrick took a step backwards, hoping to avoid following his pizza-obsessed friend to his certain death. Pete may be gone, but he had to stay alive. If he died now, the Jedi Order would be gone forever.

He glanced into the sinkhole, his vision blurry with tears. There was one last thing he could do. He knew it was the right thing to do, but he didn't know if he had the strength to do it. He had to try. If he didn't, he would never forgive himself. He wiped away his tears, took a deep breath in, and let the Force guide him as he looked over the edge one last time. He was terrified, but he knew what he had to do.

He came one step closer, and he jumped into the sinkhole.

Patrick plummeted downwards, passing by bustling streets and huge, beautiful buildings. He wasn't sure whether to feel afraid or exhilarated as he felt the rushing air, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, the pull of Utapau's gravity. He held onto his black fedora as he fell, desperate not to lose one of his last reminders of Pete's presence in his life. He was doing this for him, after all.

Patrick knew he was going too fast, so he used the Force to slow his fall. His speed slowly decreased, and soon, he wasn't falling at all. Instead, he was languidly gliding to the bottom of the sinkhole, as if he was attached to an invisible parachute. He smiled as he realized that he was going to make it. He would survive this.

Against his better judgment, Patrick looked down. He was still hundreds of feet above the bottom of the sinkhole, but he could see it now. There was an ocean down there, with crashing waves and deep blue water stretching out in every direction. As he came closer, so close that he could feel the water spraying onto his skin, he felt Pete there, resting beneath the surface. He drifted even closer, sure that he could find Pete somewhere under the restless, unforgiving sea.

Patrick plunged into the ocean, the icy cold water freezing his skin. He took another deep breath and ducked beneath the surface, and when he looked around, he could see him. There was someone maybe nine or ten feet below him, and with his jet black hair and intricate tattoos, he knew it had to be Pete.

Patrick surfaced and took another breath before he dove down toward Pete. He swam as quickly as he could, and when he got to Pete, he took his hand and pulled him up to the surface. Even after they surfaced, Patrick couldn't tell whether he was alive or dead, but he took him to shore anyways. He dragged Pete along as he swam, hoping that he wasn't just carrying a corpse.

When he finally made it to solid ground, Patrick climbed out of the water, and he brought Pete ashore with him. He took a moment to catch his breath. His robes were soaked, and he smelled like saltwater, but he didn't care. He'd gotten Pete out of the ocean.

Patrick glanced toward his friend. Pete's body was bruised, bloodied, and mangled, his limbs bent at unnatural angles, but all of a sudden, he took a few shallow, ragged breaths. Patrick breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Pete was alive. Then, his eyes fluttered open, and he leaned over and coughed up water for what felt like forever. "Is everything okay?" Patrick asked after he was done.

Pete groaned in pain and then coughed up more water. "No," he finally said. "I...I feel like...I feel like I'm dying."

"No, Pete," Patrick said. "You can't die. I won't let you die on me."

"It's not your fault, Trick," Pete said. "It's just...everything. Everything hurts a lot. My arms, my legs, my head, my back, my chest..." Pete coughed up even more water and then added, "You...you did what you could. You came for me. You saved me. You save me every day. Did you know that?"

"I didn't."

"It's true. We're like...we're like young volcanoes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" When Pete didn't respond, Patrick shouted his name. "I'm telling you, Pete, you can't die now," he said.

"There's nothing you can do, Lunchbox," Pete mumbled. "Not even the Force can cheat death."

"There has to be something!"

Pete rolled onto his back and smiled, revealing the teeth that had been knocked out by the impact. "Do you remember when we were thirteen? Do you remember what happened four days before the Initiate Trials?" he asked.

Patrick thought about it, but he didn't think anything important had happened that day. He remembered the Trials themselves, but he hardly remembered the days leading up to them. He turned to Pete, and he shook his head.

"I was terrified of failing the Trials, so I went up to you, and I asked if I could cheat off of your answers for the written portion of the test," Pete explained. "Of course, you said no, but you offered to study with me. You sat in the Archives with me for hours, going over every last Jedi text, memorizing anything and everything that could be on the exam."

"I did that with half the class, Pete," Patrick said.

"But it meant everything to me," Pete said. "I got a perfect score on the written exam, so I passed the Trials, even though I failed the practical. If it wasn't for you, I never would have made it to apprenticeship. I never would have had a chance at becoming a Jedi Knight."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because that was when I fell in love with you."

Patrick stared at Pete for a few seconds, unable to believe what he'd just heard. He couldn't mean this. Surely, it was just another one of his jokes, just another way to mess with his head. Besides, Pete knew just as well as he did that falling in love led to the dark side.

"Even when we were apart, even through all those years, I thought of you every single day. I couldn't get you out of my head. Sometimes, you were the only thing that made me happy. I knew that you didn't love me back, that you never would, but I knew I'd see you again someday, and that was what kept me going. Then, when we met again at the temple...it was like I was falling for you all over again. Those days wandering through the cities of Alsakan, sitting by the fire on Devaron, coming here to Utapau...those were some of the best days of my life...and now it's all going to end. I just want you to know this before I die. You are what you love, not who loves you. And what I love is you."

"Pete, you know Jedi aren't supposed to get attached..."

"I don't care, Patrick!" Pete exclaimed. "I know it's wrong, and I don't care! I love you, and I always will. Even when I'm gone, I'll still love you." He sighed and then added, "I know you don't care about me. I know you'll never think of me in the same way. I know you're too good for me. I know I don't deserve you. I mean, you're basically perfect, and I'm just a boy who's had too many chances..."

That was when Patrick did something that surprised even himself. He leaned in closer, and he kissed Pete.

It felt so wrong, yet so right. Pete's lips tasted like saltwater, but Patrick could still feel the sparks, the electricity flowing through his veins. He deepened the kiss, knowing this was the last chance he would ever have to let go of his inhibitions, to show Pete just how much he cared about him. After a lifetime of being taught to detach himself from his emotions, giving in to them felt like a breath of fresh air.

As they finally pulled apart, Patrick said, "No, Pete. You're more than that."

Pete was about to say something, but he was fading fast. As he collapsed onto the ground, Patrick started to tear up. He didn't know what to do anymore, not after everything that had just happened.

All of a sudden, he heard a whirring sound coming from above the sinkhole. When he looked up, he saw that there was a brightly painted TIE fighter flying across the sky, the same one that he'd seen on Coruscant. He stared at the ship as it lowered itself into the sinkhole, flying past the city inside.

Someone was coming for him.