Losing Jason the first time had been bad enough. It had driven him to destroy his soul. And then at least he'd been told Jason was alive somewhere. Even if they were apart. This time his lover was dead, and at his own hands. In his anger he'd been too blind to recognize the only man he'd loved in his whole life standing right in front of him. Voldemort had killed the only person who loved him. Who loved Tom.
He didn't want to live. He didn't deserve to live. Ruling the world because of Jason's death wasn't worth anything. Tom remembered their plans to take over and fix the world, but peacefully. So slowly and carefully that the people grew to love them. They'd planned to rule together. Hell, Tom had planned to marry the man. The man he had killed. He raised his wand to his chest and ended his life with two words, the same he had used so often on others. After it had all gone wrong. The words that had killed his lover.
"Avada Kedavra." His last memory would be a flash of light almost, but not quite, the colour of Jason's eyes.