Summary: A one shot that's Don centered. Why is he so sad? This scene pops into my head every time I watched – "O.G." What happens after Alan and Charlie leaves. Dark Don's thoughts. Not my first fan fic, but the first posted on this site.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, I'm just borrowing them and nope, haven't made a dime off any of my stories.

A/N: Taking Joanne's advice and revamped the story. Also thanks Wildfyre for being my beta. Any mistakes still left are all mine. Starts at Charlie's house. Dialogue may be slightly different from the show. Constructive Criticism is appreciated, but flames will be ignored. Please review, I know it takes a bit of time...but I would love to know what you think! It's the only way I can improve as a writer. Thanks for those that take the time to give me some feedback.


Grabbing his jacket, Charlie shoved one of his arms through the sleeve.

"So what are you up to tonight, Donny?" asked Alan as he smoothed down his tie.

"Oh man, I wish you'd called. I'm going to Amita's for dinner – Larry's going to be there. Why don't you join us?" Charlie requested as he finished getting his jacket on. But his eyes clearly showed he was torn in two between canceling his dinner plans and leaving.

I see Charlie's guilt and I know I'm tearing him to pieces. But, I'm the older brother. I smile and pretend that everything is fine. I know what to say, how to make it okay for both of them to walk out the door and leave me here alone. I've got it down pat, and with a few simple words I'll make it alright for both of them.

"Nah, go ahead. I'll just grab something to eat and then head home," I reply giving them the same old excuse and one that's tried and true.

"Yeah, all right, You sure?" As Charlie hesitated and waited for an excuse to stop him from going.

Yeah, go ahead and have fun, I've got stuff to do. Go, have a good time!" I quipped while shaking my head as I watch them go.

Honest, don't mind me, my mind is a terrible place to be right now, but don't worry, I can do this...I do it all the time…but sometimes it just gets to me.

Then Charlie stops at the door feeling a little uncertain and whispered "Are you sure?" He waited for my response before walking out the door.

I shake my head and smile forcing it to reach my eyes, "Yeah, go I've got plenty of stuff to do." I can sense my brother's need to help if I would only ask, but I can't…at least not yet. Once again displaying older protective brother. Locking down all of my emotions at least until they walk out and close the door. Needing them to believe the lie, to think I'm happy and secure. Yet concealing behind a wall, a mask, so they never know how I really feel. On the outside… I'm smiling… but on the inside… I'm hiding just how drained I feel. I pray that both or one of you will come back and insist I join you, but then again I hope you don't…cause tonight I would just be bad company.

The door closes and I'm left alone. I sort through the mail, but my concentration is lacking. I'm not really focusing on the labels, so I discard the mail and proceed into the kitchen. I open up the fridge, but nothing looks inviting. Not really hungry. So I grab a beer and sit on the kitchen counter – all alone with my thoughts.

"Your man, Sinclair…did himself proud today. He's got nothing to feel bad about. We all went home safe and sometimes that's just as much as you can hope for." As Walker's words once again popped into my brain, but for a moment I could have sworn he was in the room. Shaking my head to clear my mind, I jump down and open the fridge, but close it without pulling anything out. Not hungry. Too tired to eat, bone weary exhausted and I don't really know why. Opening the bottle, I take a sip. Gazing at the beer, I wonder if it might be just the ticket to feeling numb. How do you open up and say how much you need them tonight. Long for their company. It's not their fault. They didn't choose this line of work, I did. Part of the job description. Sometimes it really gets to me and tonight I really could use a distraction. But too many times in the past I had to go it alone.

Alone…alone with my thoughts, not a good neighborhood to be in sometimes. I rubbed my forehead and took another sip. Dad, I don't regret my life. I mean, having to stand on my own helped me to grow strong, to be independent. But tonight I feel like crying, could use a shoulder to lean on… but I didn't think to call first. Assumed…just assumed you would be here. But you do have life, I'm the one that doesn't. I massaged the back of my neck trying to erase the stress that felt permanent in my life.I'm unable to remain still and I pace while I drink a few more sips of beer.

Charlie, how many times have you complained that I don't see you…That you have a life, that I need to check your schedule. A little chuckle escaped, I just took for granted that you would be here, because I needed you. Silly me. After all, you do have your own lives to live…the world didn't stop just because a man died tonight…It's not their fault I live, breathe my work…man I need to get a life…but that might mean…best leave that alone.

Finishing off my beer, I seized another. Movement is good. Sometimes your thoughts get too morbid because you stay put for too long. Need a change of scenery. Moving into the living room, I stared at the pictures. One by one, all the photos have been examined. A slight grin lights up my face as I remembered some really good times. Then I spot the picture of Mom and my smile faded. Dark thoughts invaded my mind, ones I'm desperate to avoid tonight. As I forced a smile on my face, I can almost hear her words. "No tears, you're too serious sometimes." Tipping my beer toward her picture as the memory flooded my mind. "Focus on the good times, laugh often and know I'm counting on you to take care of Dad and Charlie." Out loud I voice the words, but I hear her voice not mine.

Feelings of regret once again flooded my thoughts, yet, even though moisture surrounded my eyes, not a single tear falls down my face. Get a grip, stop thinking about it... don't cry, don't loose it, not now! My resolve grew stronger as I take another sip, and moved to the couch. For a moment, I just sit and stare out the window, zoning out and not really feeling anything. Then a memory emerges and I sigh.

How do I tell them what I witnessed today. Today's a good day, because we all came home safe, except for a man…a father…who took his life… as we all watched and could do nothing to stop it…Nothing.

Suddenly, I'm cold. I reach for a blanket, but it wasn't on the couch, anymore. A signal of how things have changed and this wasn't the home I grew up in, even though it was. This place should feel like home… but tonight it just seems empty…like I don't belong here anymore… Like I'm intruding somehow…

I wander aimlessly around the house, until I spot the photos that Charlieinsisted he needed. Just had to bring these home, didn't you?

What was it that Dad said…just so he could get his head wrapped around this case. Pausing for a bit, I took another sip. A very strong tug drew me to the web of photos strung out on the table. Taunting me. Daring me to touch the pictures. Like a fly sometimes is unable to resist the spider's web, I'm unable to turn my back on the photos. So I pause - staring at the photos around the room and at the table. Feeling so many conflicting emotions and unable to decipher how I really feel.

Not detaching too good right now, am I. Charlie doesn't understand, how I have to detach to do my job, to keep the demons at bay, just to remain sane. I have to separate my feelings or I could never do this, I would just collapse and what good would that do to anyone?

Picking up the photos I examine them one by one, until one stopped me in my tracks. A baby girl. An innocent infant whose eyes haunt me. You're just daring me to come up with another answer. To find a way to turn back time, to keep you alive. Could I have done something differently to create a different outcome. A scenario where she had lived. My heart felt torn in two, ripped apart. With some effort I stop the sob that desperately tried to escape and down the rest of my beer. I rush out of the room and race to the kitchen to get another one. I slug part of it down, before I take a breath. My heart is racing and I pound the refrigerator, hoping against hope that I can get my mind to just shut up. To just go blank and not feel anything.

Drawn like a moth to the flame, I return to the offending photo. I pick it back up, searching for answers, anything to explain how this could make sense and why she had to die. Okay, I know I'm not to blame, not even my case…but I wonder what kind of life would she have fashioned if she had survived. I found myself unable to release the photo, feeling a presence, even if it is only in my imagination, in my mind. How do I go back, to the respectable, detached agent, because now that I have seen it, really looked at it, I can't go back. Tears slide down my faceAngrily, I wipe my eyes, knowing I can't save them all. I found myself sitting on the ground still holding the picture. Setting the bottle down, for a moment forgotten.

I couldn't save her, but maybe…just maybe what I am doing will make a difference. Maybe, by doing my job, sacrificing friendships and family, another young girl will live.

Praying for answers, feeling a little better – Finding some peace in such a mixed up world. My moment for reflecting was over, for I can't do my job if I wallow in it for too long. Tenderly, I place the photo down, and intend to grab my keys. To get in my SUV and drive back to my apartment. But my body seemed to have a mind of it own, and instead I discover myselfsinking into the couch and draining the bottleEyes closed, I took a deep breath. Once again, I felt a presence, most likely, I'm just drunk. Empty house or not, I am home. Something's changed. My eyelids close, figuring I would just rest here for a moment. Peaceful. Feels nice to be here, even though I'm alone…but feeling comfortable…Just five minutes and then I'll get up and drive to my apartment… just five minutes more…