Disclaimer: CBS owns Flack, Danny, and Angell. Lexie I created just for this oneshot. Enjoy!

Title:Dealing with Hell.

Summary: His father was a drunk. His sister was a drunk. This is the Flack way of dealing wuth Hell.

Guinness had once been his choice of alcohol. Now, it didn't matter. Anything intoxicating he could get his hands on was good enough. Anything that made him forget was his poison nowadays. He spent his time getting drunk. He passed out on any surface. A couch, a bed, the floor, anything felt comfortable when he could barely see. And he woke up, and put on jeans and a t-shirt and left for work. They were lucky if he shaved, let alone showered. His hair was getting significantly longer, and the salt and pepper beard he was sporting held tiny crumbs of the food he had eaten the night before.

This was the Flack way of dealing with Hell.

His father had been a drunk. He grew up with a loving mother who was too scared to leave his deadbeat of a father. Like Gavin Moran, Don Flack Sr. had many a mistress on the side. He had his scotch, and he had his two-dollar whores as well. No, he wasn't any different from his father, or his sister. It was genetic. Alcohol solved everything for the Flacks.

The love of his life was dead. His best friend in a wheel chair. His best friend had a wife, and a baby girl. He had alcohol and cigarettes. He was worthless. He couldn't save Angell, and he couldn't save Danny. He couldn't move on. Killing didn't help. It had made it worse. Work was hell. All he thought about was Angell. How great of a partner she was, how amazing of a lover she'd been to him. Her scent, her smile, the feel of her lips on his chest. The sound of her light breathing as she slept beside him., how her hand fit perfectly between his, the seductive way she spoke in another language, the way her curls fell around her face. He missed everything about her. And work reminded him of the beautiful thing he should have right now.

This was the Flack way of dealing with Hell.

Mac had taught him something the day he showed up at Terrance's apartment, where Flack had slept off a dirty hangover, and treated the bruises two criminals had inflicted on him. He could do better than this. Forget alcohol, forget what a scum his father was. Forget about the pain his sister was feeling. He could be better than this.

Hell on earth could be all right.

A razor in his left hand, and shaving cream on his face, he took the first cut. Cleanliness was a good start. A fresh shower, and now a fresh face. A new look. Angell liked when he wore jeans and a nice t-shirt. So that's what he was going to do. Throw away his suits and fugly ties, and wear jeans and t-shirts.

No more one night stands. No more drunken nights. Just sober dates, if he ever got to that point in his life. Where he didn't hurt anymore to be with someone other than Angell.

He'd be okay. Mac was okay. If Mac could do it, then he had a chance.

So that date he'd been waiting for was finally here. A beautiful brunette with hazel eyes, and dimples was smiling at him as she slipped on ice skates, and pulled him up. "You mean to tell me you're the biggest Rangers fan ever and you've never ice skated?" she giggled, helping him tie his skates.

"Will you stop making fun of me and help me stand?" Flack rolled his eyes. The brunette nodded her head, and grabbed his hands. She pulled him upright, and entwined her fingers with his.

"Stay steady," she whispered, pulling him into the rink, their hands still entwined. She skated backwards so he could skate forwards. "Can I let go?" she whispered, giving him a smile.

"No," Flack shook his head. "You aren't allowed to leave."

She let out a soft giggle, and kissed his cheek. "You'll be fine," she promised, freeing her hands from him. He stumbled forward trying not to fall.

"Lexie!" He yelled as she skated ahead of him, leaving him in the dust, a crowd of 12-year-old girls skating quickly behind him. "Lexie come back here now!" But she was out of earshot. After she circled the rink, she returned by his side, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"See, you can do it," she smiled.

Flack nodded his head and gave her a smile before kissing her. Yes, he could do it. He could do anything if he tried. Angell's death had proved that.