I don't own anything.Holland "Dutch" Wagenbach is one of my favourite fictional character's. I think that he's the perfect mix of annoying/brilliant/cocky/vulberable .This is my take on his thought's on after 'the cat' incident. I love cat's and hated what he did, but I still loved Dutch, as I understood why he did that.

Oh shit, what have I done?

I look at the lifeless cat, lying at my feet, and I feel a mix of repulsion and adrenaline overcome me.

I feel that I can't breathe.

I run inside my house and close the door, and fall to the floor.

What have I done?

I don't know why I did what I have just done.

curiosity, maybe?

I know many killer's harmed animal's before they moved on to human's.

Maybe I wanted to see what it felt like to take a life.

To see something afraid of you.

To see the life go out of something.

To have power over something.

Oh shit.

I feel the overpowering need to vomit, and I throw up on the floor.

I run to the bathroom, and wash my face in cold water.

I'm sweating.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I look away.

I can't bear to look at myself. I don't know if I ever will again.

I vomit, violently, again.

I know that I won't sleep. Not after tonight.

Not after what I did.

I walk back to my bedroom, feeling like my legs will give way under me, and i put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

I clean up the vomit from earlier, and then I go outside, and with tears in my eyes, I bury the cat in the garden, and then I head back into the house.

I feel like I am the worst person in the world.

Vic Mackey always thought of me as an arrogant dick, who thought that I was better than everyone else. If only he could see me now.

He'd see that, in reality, I am no better than him.

We both killed in cold blood.

Only he denies doing that, but people know. I can't deny what I did.

I am a killer.

How can I go to work and put away killers, when I am one myself?

I go back to the bathroom, and catch another look at myself in the mirror; only this time I really look at myself

Am I headed on the slippery slope of becoming a serial killer?

What if I want to kill again?

I open the bathroom cabinet, and find a bottle of asprin in there.

I take out the bottle, walk into the kitchen and find a bottle of whiskey on the sideboard.

I am about to open the asprin and take the pill's washed down with the whiskey when my cell phone ring's.

I contemplate not answering, but I can see "Claudette" flashing on the screen.

And the thought of my partner finding my body bring's me to my senses.

I take the call.

She tell's me that we are needed at a murder scene.

I look at the clock and realize that it's 6.30 am .

I tell her that I will be right there and end the call.

I still feel guilty and worried about what I did, but I will have to find my own way to come to terms with that.

Find my own way of redemption.

But I will not kill again. If I ever feel the urge to kill again, I will kill myself.

This is my secret to take to my grave.