A/N: Though one should never assume, but if you are reading this, I guess you are still with me, thanks. One more thing, yes Deakins is the CO, why? Because, though I like Ross, I find Deakins to be a bit more sympathetic. Just my opinion.

Anyway....Here we go

Chapter Two

January 2007

I woke to find myself in a strange bed, alone. I was thankful for that. I was also relieved that I was fully clothed but where and how I got there, no matter how hard I tried searching my memory, nothing. I sat up slowly and oh so carefully.

"Hey little brother."

Never, was I so happy to see my brother, "Hey Frank," were the only words I could speak. I ran my fingers through my hair and scratched my head as I stood up slowly, "Where," I coughed before I could continue, "Am I?"

He walked through the threshold, "My place, you claimed my bed before I had a chance too."

"What? Is it Saturday?" I asked as I walked past him, on my way to where, I had no clue.

"Yes," he followed me out of the room. "Bathroom is to your right."

"Thanks."

Never did he ask how I was, but then I didn't ask either. After a cup of coffee and a day old donut, I was finally able to recall the events of last night. The one and only memory I wanted to remember was the feeling that, yes...smack, junk, shit, H whatever you want to call it, gave me. The rational part of me was telling me NO, it won't solve anything...Fuck being rational, I wanted more and I wanted it now. I felt a sensation in my back, was it really there? Probably not, once again finding an excuse for my behavior. I needed it to relieve the pain in my back, I repeated to myself.

"Any idea where I can find Roscoe?" I asked, not able to look him in the eye.

"Are you sure?" he asked as a concerned older brother.

I nodded my head more than once, "Yes." I stated firmly, "I'm sure." I looked up at him and he did indeed have a concerned look on his face. I saw my mother in that look. Would she be proud of her sons, I thought. It's my life and I can do what I want, my God I sounded like a spoiled child. I was in pain, not like him. I sat back in the chair that supported my tired and aching body. I asked him again, "Any idea where I can find Roscoe?"

He was struggling with the favor that I was asking. My brother was many things, but stupid was not one of them; he knew that if he didn't tell me where Roscoe was that I would most likely find him myself. "He's a strong, self sufficient guy, he'll get himself out of this." I heard him whisper to himself. For his own feeling of guilt? Maybe.

My brother and I were very close as children, comforting each other through those many nights of chaos that filled our home. As the years went on, he strayed away from not only me but our mother as well. I resented him for that, leaving me to take care of her. In the back of my mind, I always knew that I was more capable of that task and as the years went on, I proved it, if he respected me for it or was grateful for it, he never said.

A year ago, it would have bothered me to see how he lived and whom he was associating. In a small way, I would always feel, when I was around him, that I was better then he was, in every sense of the word. I was always responsible and mature, usually putting my happiness on the back burner. Now I was envious of his free way of living and I was grateful to him for, yes, I had to thank him for introducing me to Roscoe.

Day after day and week after week, I found Roscoe. Since I had no one but myself to spend money on, and still at this point employed, I was able to keep myself satisfied. How much longer that would last. I wasn't sure. Deakins knew, he had too, he was a sharp guy. He was keeping his distance from me, hoping that I could get over it on my own. He didn't want to get the brass involved, but how much longer he could shield me, was anyone's guess. I was living my life day by day, not thinking about tomorrow and not worrying about the day after.

My usual sharp, analytical mind was slowly fading, if others noticed, I had no clue. Eames would have, but she is not here anymore. Most times when I think of her, I refer to her as Eames. Why? To distance myself from her, but no matter how hard I try to tuck the memory of her in the back of my mind, Alex always seems to come through. I stare at the empty chair, no one is worthy, in my eyes to fill it, none of the three partners that I have been assigned were able to fill that void.

Though my days and nights seemed to roll along as one. Every week without fail, I would venture to her grave. Why? What compelled me to go? Is it the need to be as close to her as I can? Maybe, I don't know. I never stayed long, I would clean up the ground, remove old leaves from the headstone then place a pink carnation, which symbolizes, 'I will never forget you', on the ground.

When I woke that cold, sunny morning in March, I knew what day it was. A year ago, on this day she was taken away from me. I managed to get myself together and I went to visit her.

I stood before her headstone, knowing that she could not hear me, I spoke to her anyway. "I brought you two flowers today, a pink carnation and a red carnation." Which symbolize 'my heart aches for you'. I laid them on the ground, stems touching. As I stood up, I heard a noise, thinking that someone was near. I looked around the graveyard, "No one," I said aloud. I turned back at the gray stone before me. An angel was added in the corner, it was not there the last time I was here. "I miss you," I fell to my knees, the ground was hard and cold but I didn't care. "Things are really shitty and you know what?" I had it in my mind to blame her, my Mom, my brother, I couldn't. I knew who was to blame. I wiped my eyes with my hand, "No, it's my fault, no one else to blame but me. Like you said, my wounds are self inflicted. Man, I was pissed off at you for saying that, but you were right."

I stood up slowly, forgetting to brush the dirt from knees. "Hope that angel on your headstone is really next to you."

I raised my head and a snowflake fell onto my face. "Hope it snows this weekend, you said to me that morning. When I asked why, you were a little timid to admit that you had a weekend getaway planned with a guy to go skiing." I lowered my head to once again stare at the angel, "He's not here Alex, I am." The snow started to fall harder, "I better go, before it gets too bad. I'll see you next week." Tapping my body in a vain search for a handkerchief I suddenly became aware that I did not have one; I used my coat sleeve to dry my eyes.

.More to Come....

.Soon....