A/N-Right, Garret's officially hit rock bottom. I used one of my favorite songs in this chap, it's another I suggest, its definitely the best song by the band, despite the subject matter-then again, I'm an emokid, I think nothing of the subject matter of the lyrics. Anyway, yeah, Garret's gone all the way down, and this time Jordan's not in the next room, nor is there a bystander with phone to call help, not like either would be of much use...And no, Jordan's not going to just go away, but there's nothing she can do if he won't let her...yeah, next chap is i think all you're going to get until tuesday morning-maybe monday night if i get a lot of reviews...

You keep these feelings, no one knows
What ever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart
I'm staring down the barrel of a .45
Swimming through the ashes of another life
There's no real reason to accept the way
Things have changed
I'm staring down the barrel of a .45

Shinedown-.45

The phone rang and he ignored it. He knew who it was. He waited for the voice to come on. "Garret, Garret, are you there? Garret-just answer the phone for once please? At least let me know you're alright-" He rolled his eyes and relented.

"I'm still alive." He growled into the phone before hanging it back up. He had given up on caring. The phone rang again and he listened to it go to his answering machine again.

"Garret. Have you been in there the whole time?" Not the whole time. He had ventured out twice-only to buy more scotch. The second time he had been smart enough to go out and hit every liquor store in the area and bought at least a bottle in every single place. He had a nice little stockpile of bottles surrounding him.

But aside from that he hadn't moved much. He'd gotten up to raid the meager scraps of food that were left, gotten up to go to the bathroom, but aside from that he'd hardly moved. He was afraid to look at himself in the mirror. He hadn't shaved. He'd been in there for a week. He'd stopped caring.

"Garret, please-" He could hear how close to the breaking point she was. She was ready to snap as well. And it was his fault. He was the one pushing her over the edge. He was dragging her down with him. He reached for the phone.

"Jordan, just stop, save yourself, you're letting me drag you down. Just leave me alone, leave me in peace, forget me Jordan-it's not worth it." He hung up again and found her calling him back yet again.

"Garret. Open your goddamn door." He heard her knocking.

"Jordan, I told you leave me alone. Just go." He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve her unwavering faith in him.

"I'm not leaving Garret, not until you do something, anything. Just drag yourself out of there for five minutes. Five fucking minutes and talk to me face to face." He shook his head.

"I'm not moving." He replied.

"Do I have to break down the door?" She asked and he snorted.

"Jordan. Leave." His tone left no room for discussion. He heard her walk back down the stairs and his phone rang yet again.

"Garret. Do something please." He could hear the threatening tears in her voice and took a long gulp. He needed it. He couldn't bear the thought that she was that hurt. Over him.

He all but chugged down half a bottle. He rolled the thought of what she had said. He swilled down even more. He could see her again, see Abby there, berating him. "Hello Daddy." She called to him. "You've forgotten about me, you've put me out of your head. I'm still here Daddy, I'm still here. But why are you? Why are you still here, all alone? Why are you trying to compensate with scotch when there are other things you can do to make things better?"

He looked up at her, reached out for her. She was right. Why was he here? He had no reason to still be here. He would have been better off dead. He would have been. He rolled off of the couch and walked somewhat unsteadily over to the closet, pulling out the box that sat up on the top shelf.

The cold metal sat comfortably in his hand. He stared down at it, slowly sliding the bullets into each chamber of the small revolver. He snapped the gun back together, and gave the chambers a spin. He smiled faintly, this was it, the other two times had been test runs, there was no way to fail with this. He took another gulp of scotch and debated leaving a note, calling Jordan, something. Something to say goodbye.

The cold metal was a shock against his temple and he pulled his hand away, before putting it back. It didn't really feel all that awkward to hold the gun there, not as awkward as he thought it would. He moved his arm over to find himself literally staring down the barrel of the gun, polished black with only the slightest trace of powder left behind from one failed run at a shooting range.

He cocked the gun, and uncocked it. Playing with it, toying with it as he contemplated leaving something behind. He had his will, he left nearly everything to Jordan, she was the only thing he had left in the world. He had rewritten it after Abby-nearly everything had gone to her, but now he had no one else to give it to. Only Jordan.

He looked down at the cocktail table. There was a pen and pencil there, they'd been there for God knows how long. He picked up the pencil and toyed with it, thinking about what he could say. There were a lot of things he could say. But he didn't want it to sound maudlin. He didn't know what to write.

I'm sorry, Jordan.

That worked. Short, sweet and to the point. He was sorry for what he was doing, he wasn't doing it for any real reason aside than escaping the pain. It wasn't to prove a point, it wasn't for attention, it was to escape the grief and the guilt that kept weighing down on him. And she had tried so hard to help him with that, but no matter how hard she tried it wasn't enough. He frowned. He needed to tell her that, he couldn't just go without an explination, she needed to know that it wasn't her fault.

I'm sorry that I failed you-that no matter how hard you tried it wasn't enough-but it's not your fault, don't ever think that. I never meant to hurt you-anyone-I don't mean to hurt the rest of the staff-tell Nigel and Bug and Lily that they've been wonderful people. I just can't handle it anymore-Every day I'm reminded of how horrible of a person I've been. I don't deserve your grief. Move on with your life, get over me, please, don't get caught up in this, I don't want it to be that way, I'm just trying to get rid of all this, act like you never knew me, act like it never happened, just don't dwell on me. Jordan, I'm sorry, but I couldn't take it-it never was your fault. Thank you though, for doing all you have. Don't miss me, please. I love you Jordan, you've been my best friend, you've been my one to count on, you're the only family that I have left, you're the only one that I have-just don't get wrapped up in this, please. I know you've begged me not to do this, and I've tried, but I failed. Goodbye Jordan.

He finished writing and looked it over. That was much better. He had done it, told her goodbye, signed away his life. He didn't deserve her grief, he apologized, gave a reason, told her not to mourn for him, he didn't deserve her being depressed over him. He signed the bottom of the note as the realization that it was the last thing he would ever sign crept up on him. It was the last time he would listen to Brubeck. The last time he would do anything.The last time he would hurt.

He picked the gun back up and looked at it again. It was so small, smaller than he ever thought it would be for a revolver, he had seen small ones, he knew Jordan's wasn't that much smaller, but it still felt strange. But it was comfortable in his hand, heavier than he thought it would be, but it wasn't unbearable. He leaned back against the cushions as once again his hand raised and cold metal was against his temple.

He just wished that she would follow his last request. He didn't want her to mourn for him. He didn't want to ruin her life because he couldn't handle his. She desreved to live, live a full and healthy life. She didn't need to feel guilty about his problems, there was nothing she could do, she had tried everything and it wasn't her fault that everything wasn't enough. He didn't want to drag her down with him.