Closing off

A/N:Ok, so I know it's been done, but I don't care! I loved this episode too much for words. I had to write this down, or I might go nuts! Oh, and any feedback is welcome, don't make me beg! And if anyone has any constructive criticism that can help my writing then please do!

Disclaimer: I don't own Third Watch! Please don't sue me!

Edited as of September 15, 2005.

I sighed as I took a look at the gun in its case. What I really wanted was to throw it away. Just like Glen had done with his life. Sure, he had ruffed me up a little, played around with me, made me think he was crazy-just like everyone had told me-but it wasn't true. Glen was perfectly sane. He just couldn't live with the fact that he had killed so many, even though they were low down crooks.

It was the last man he killed that did it. Having the blood splatter all over his face pushed him over the edge. I put my hand up to my own face even though it's sore from all the scrubbing. I still feel it rolling down my face. Blood...

I take a swig of bear and glance back at the gun. No, no he wasn't going to hurt me. He never even thought about really doing me any harm. As I think back I can see it. When I had first walked into his room it had clicked. How he could get rid of all the pain and guilt he was feeling. I tip my beer from side to side as his voice floats back to me.

"Your a dead man Boscorelli, I'm going to kill you with your own gun."

I attentively sat my beer down, still thinking about how it had happened. The only reason he had knocked me around at all was because he had wanted me think he was crazy, that he wanted me dead. Because if I didn't believe it, then no one else would either. My part in his plan was key. He had told me though, he had it all figured out. I rubbed my eyes as more voices fill my head.

"Don't you kill me..."

"Shhh, Shhh, I'm in control of it."

He didn't want to die--not with me thinking that he was crazy. He had proved that to me when he'd dropped the clip. He'd only wanted it to end, and in the end he'd gotten what he wanted. But at what price? I'll admit it, I honored him, he was a great cop in his day and I looked up to him. He was the cop that I wanted to be.

But not only because he was a good cop, but because he'd taken the time. He took the time to try and teach me. He took the time to get to know me-and he didn't have to. That's what kills me. My whole family is screwed up, and when I finally think that I've found a positive influence, he breaks down on me.

I once said that people who take their own lives-even though Glen didn't pull the trigger, it was his goal in the end-are insane, not even wroth my own pity. Because there are people out there who don't want to die, but who do every day. But even so, I can't seem to apply that to him. Maybe that makes me a hypocrite. I don't care. I don't care that Sully, Davis, Faith...that every one, saw me break down into tears at the scene. And I don't care that my phone has rang, unanswered, over 20 times since I've been home.

The only thing I know-care-about right now is that I don't want ESU anymore even if I could make it. I don't even know if I can even get up and go to work tomorrow, or the next day. Maybe I just don't have it anymore, maybe I've lost it. But it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters right now is that I know Glen wasn't crazy.

I take one more sip of my beer and toast it to him. Then close the gun up and place it in the closet.

I take a second and remember how great a guy he once was, and that I won't forget him. Then I close the door, at the same time as I close off yet another part of my heart.

END