Joss took the steep stairs two at a time. Regretting her decision to wear her heeled leather boots. But at the same time grateful for the years of army and police training that equipped her to make the uncomfortable run in her poor choice of shoes.

The sound of her heavy breaths echoed in her ears as the long hall stretched before her.

Joss normally was not a person who lived in the clouds or had unrealistic hopes. She always thought practically. But today she wished she could fly. Fly down the hall. Straight to John.

She grit her teeth. Each second that passed only added to her worry. She pushed herself harder, feeling her heart swell with exertion. She ignored the burning in her chest, refusing to slow her pace.

Joss felt the first ray of hope as she spotted the door that held the numbers she was looking for. Gulping in a breath she slid the hotel key into the slot. One flash of her badge was all it had taken to get the key from the front desk.

Joss sucked in another breath bracing herself. She had no idea what she was going to face on the other side of the door. But whatever awaited, had to be faced dead on. John needed her. He needed her to remind him of the good he had done. To remind him that he was not bound to the deeds of his past.

Joss's mind traveled back as she recalled the moment, she received Finch's urgent call.

The clipped details Finch had provided had been enough for Joss to get the gist of what had gone wrong and when. While working a case for the most recent number, John had a run in with someone from his past. An old 'friend' who had a vendetta against John. Although the encounter was brief and ended with the death of this old 'friend' from the past, it also resulted in John being unable to protect the number.

Joss knew John wouldn't be in a good place after those events and rushed to the location Finch provided.

Wishing to not waste any more time, she pushed the door open and walked into the hotel room.

She was quick to spot him as her eyes adjusted to the simple room. His long body was sprawled out on the bed. His head resting awkwardly against the headboard.

Joss paused to survey the length of him. His suit was missing part of a sleeve. His shirt, normally spotless white and starched, now lacked several buttons, exposing his undershirt, and was spotted with dried blood. A bruise, dark purple and blue colored his jaw.

Oh but his eyes. They were the worst. Glassy. Dazed and haunted. Still reliving the horrors that had come with the day.

"John," she called gently. She tried again, a little stronger, when she received no response. No indication that he was aware she was even in the room. "John."

That did it. Instantly his eyes slammed shut and Joss knew he was returning to the here and now. "Jossss." His voice was pain stricken and undeniably slurred.

Her heart twisted. "Oh John," she whispered. She started to move to him, surveying the room as she walked. An almost empty bottle was in his hand's weak grip. A few more bottles, two empty, one full waiting to be opened, rested on the nightstand next to the bed. Beside the glass bottles sat his blackened phone, that occasionally blinked to alert him of the many calls and texts he had yet to acknowledge. Then his gun and –

Joss's steps stopped abruptly causing her to trip. Quickly she regained her footing but her eyes never strayed from the small object sitting on the nightstand beside his gun. That small object washed her mind clear of any other thought. The small object had her complete attention and she couldn't refocus on her husband even though she knew she needed to.

Joss tried to draw in a breath, but her suddenly tense body did not allow her to draw enough air to calm the fear that was rising within.

Was that-? She started to wonder. But it couldn't be. It COULDN"T!

"Jossss."

Finally her eyes left the object to focus on John as he called her name. His voice now laced with concern. She stared at him, noticing that he seemed more alert than he had been a moment ago. He managed to sit his body further up. Joss tilted her head slightly as she searched his face for answers.

A trace of fear was visible in his bloodshot eyes. As if he knew he had been caught.

And he had been caught. Joss realized. He knew that she had seen something she was not supposed to see.

The worry and concern that had plagued her moments ago began to evaporate. Fury slowly heated her body.

"What is that doing out?" She forced the question through clenched teeth.

John took a breath, blinking. Hoping to bring Joss and the room into better focus. He knew she was angry. No beyond angry. Enraged. And he needed to think as clearly as possible in order to find out the reason behind her rage.

"Joss-"

"Is that what I think it is?" she snapped cutting him off.

He followed her gaze to the nightstand. To his gun and the bottles, his phone. Nothing out of the norm- oh! …and the small object beside his firearm.

Reluctantly John turned back to Joss. Trying not to jar his already sensitive head in the process. She had moved closer in the past minute and he had completely missed her transition. She was now standing at the side of the bed before the nightstand. Her beautiful eyes lit with fire.

"What is that?"

Aggravated by his lack of response Joss picked up the small bullet that had been sitting out. She held it in front of John's face. "This! What is this doing here? Why do you have it out?" Joss didn't notice her voice was rising. "John is this the bullet? The one that had your name on it? Tell me!"

John's mouth moved but he couldn't form the words. Was it the fog in his brain that was making her appear so hurt? Or was that pain in her eyes really there?

"It is. Isn't it?" The hurt in her voice informed John that she had her answer.

"I can't believe this," Joss muttered, using one hand to swipe angrily at her eyes which now were wet with tears. "So what… were you thinking about using this? Ending it all? Just like that. You mean if I had come just a little later, I might've found you dead by a self-inflicted shot." The last word she spat out with disgust.

John's heart sank. Yes, he had put the bullet there, but he hadn't thought of what would happen if he used it. Joss had to know he never would wish for her to find him like that. She had to know he hadn't thought everything through yet. She had to know that he just wasn't himself right now.

John tried standing. Hand reaching out to her, but the room went sideways right as Joss shoved him away. To his frustration he couldn't recover his footing and so he found himself back on the bed. His stomach churning from the movement. A low throaty growl escaped him. He wished he could make the churning stop.

He was desperate to explain himself now.

Joss turned her back to John. Unable to look at him. Sickened by what she saw.

"Jossss. Please lisstenn to mmme."

She heard his vice from behind as he struggled to form each sentence, but she couldn't listen to him. Didn't want to hear any pitiful excuses.

A part of her couldn't believe he still considered suicide. Weren't those thoughts a thing of the past?

She thought he was happy with her. That although he still had his rough times, those particular days where he wanted to end it all were over. She thought John was fully committed to her.

Joss squeezed the bullet. She had thought wrong.

John had had one foot out the whole time. Had a plan of escape from the beginning. And all it would have taken was the right push for him to execute that plan.

And leave her. All alone.

She could forgive his carless drinking today. Could forgive the scare he gave her in ignoring her calls and taking hours to wallow in his misery.

But she could not overlook him considering to use the bullet.

"How could you?" She stopped his speech. "You told me I changed your mind about using this. But I guess that was a temporary change."

He seemed to know it was better to stay quiet.

"I thought I was enough John. Enough to make you want to live," her voice broke and she turned. "What about all that we've shared John? Does it mean anything to you?"

He swallowed thickly. Beginning to understand her anger as he opened his eyes wider to see things from her perspective.

"And Taylor! I let you into my son's life. He trusts you. You're part of our family, but you were holding onto this waiting to throw all that away. Or are you too drunk to realize that?" She said harshly.

Joss sniffed, once again wiping her face.

"You not only were holding onto this, but you pulled it out at time when you know you're not even thinking straight!" Joss picked up the unopened bottle sitting on the nightstand. "You've had at least three of these. So you knew you were under great influence of darker thoughts and still you took the bullet out!" Rearing back she sent the bottle flying. It crashed against the wall shattering. The brown liquid splashed against the wall. Drops running down to the floor and staining the carpet.

For a moment the only sound was Joss's heavy breaths.

"I can't do this. No." Joss looked into John's blue eyes. She saw guilt there, but this time the guilt wasn't enough. "I'm not going to spend every day in fear, worrying if someone pushed the right button to make you use this."

Joss took his hand placing the bullet in his palm and swiftly let go. "I love you John, but I'm not going to live like this." Setting her jaw she stiffened her spine. "It's me or that. I'm not going to let you have both." Joss walked to the door; her steps hard. She paused once the door was partway open.

"Don't come home if you can't make up your mind."

And with a slam of the door, she was gone.

The walls still trembled from Joss's hasty exit, yet John was already clawing against the mattress and sheets, fighting to get to his feet. The room started to sway and he felt bile rising up his throat.

With a growl he swallowed it back down. He knew he could chase after her. Even in this state. He had faced full combat in worse conditions. Caving under years of training the room settled and his feet flattened on the floor as his hands lifted his torso. He was about to break into a run to catch her.

But then Joss's last words rang in his ears and instantly immobilized him.

He couldn't go after her. Not unless he could give her the answer she demanded.

But he couldn't give her that answer. And he hated himself for it.

His arms gave in. His weight returning to the lumpy mattress.

The half empty bottle he had been holding had at some point, he was unsure when, gone lopsided and the liquid now saturated the sheets.

He sighed heavily not bothering to pick the bottle up.

The small cool bullet felt like a ten-pound weight in his hand. He stared at his palm. Wondering now why he had pulled it out to begin with.

Had his earlier trouble been so terrible that he would have actually used it? He couldn't even remember what had been so troubling earlier. What had led him to this hotel and had led to his consumption of the bottles. That memory was lost behind the constant mental image of Joss's brown eyes, darkened with anger, and betrayal.

Once more he further devasted others with his unique touch.

He stared at the bullet. This one thing had started this mess. This bullet had left him worse off now than he had been twenty minutes ago.

Don't come home if you can't make up your mind, she had said. She had never told him to not come home. This bullet had brought a rift between he and Joss. One that, if he wasn't careful, could really ruin the marriage that he had not had nearly enough time to enjoy.

The simple solution would be to rid himself of it for good, but the thought of using it still appealed to him.

The look in Joss's eyes, the hurt he had caused the one he loved most, made him feel that this bullet belonged nowhere else, but in his heart.

I've had this ideal in my hand for weeks and wasn't going to be happy until I got it out. I will warn you this is part 1 of this story. So what will John decide?

You'll find out in part 2. Thanks everyone for reading.