A/N: I ended up doing a drib and a drabble for this one. Sorry for making you :( Leo6656. I promise that the next chapter will be more :) K? Lol. Thanks for the reviews guys. Hope you enjoy!
F is for Forget
It's faint at first- just a faraway whisper that he's not even sure is real. He could almost ignore it. Except that when you've been in a profession like his for so many years, you learn not to dismiss anything. The noise is louder now but still muffled by matter and immaterial sleep. He shakes himself out of the haze of a prescription sleep aid that's reserved for nights like these. He wonders if it's a good or bad thing that he rarely needs them anymore. After all, what normal person could sleep after a case like that?
The other side of the bed is empty, the sheets rumpled and cold. Everything is cold- the air in the room, the floor beneath his feet, the silence of the house.
And then the sound of glass meeting tile.
The noise used to startle him. It used to rouse him into action, send him charging forth like a knight on some noble quest. He knows better now. He knows that no matter how fast he runs or how hard he fights, there are some monsters that can never be slain- some demons that they can never outrun.
So, he takes his time. He slips into a pair of shoes and shuffles past each darkened door until he reaches the tiny half-bath downstairs. The door cracks open, unnoticed by haunted eyes that stare unseeing at an empty frame where a mirror used to be. It's the third one this year.
He doesn't mind the slow drip of blood on tile or the crunch of broken glass beneath his shoes. He'll clean up the mess while Derek sleeps, and they won't mention it tomorrow. Because he knows what it's like to want to forget.
Because he knows what it's like to try.
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There are days when the memories are so vivid, so tangible that he doesn't know where the past ends and the present begins.
There are nights like these when the answers to all the mysteries of the universe are in his hand, hidden somewhere at the bottom of a bottle. "Why can't I forget?" he asks.
Because you wouldn't be you if you did. You wouldn't be half the agent- half the man…
There are nights like these when the bottle is gently pried from his hand, and hazel eyes meet his with something akin to understanding.
It's almost enough.