It was supposed to be so gloomy, so upsetting to watch the sky turn a shade of gray that he is almost sure looks nearly lavender. Flynn glances at the brown paper bag. He did this sometimes. He would buy a bottle of Vermouth, one of his favorites, and he would smash it to smithereens. Almost as a test to himself and a triumph. He stares at the brown paper bag concealing her poison, knowing it would instantly numb the pain for him.

So many years. So many years he's gone without and been fine. Though, through those years, he had never lost a child.

Andy parks in the parking lot at the beach. This would be more relaxing, he thinks. The white noise sounds of the waves and the cool sand between his toes. He rolls his pants up ever so slightly, removing his dress shoes and his socks before opening the driver's side door. He reaches over to the other seat, grabbing the bottle.

The powder-like sand rises up around his feet with each step, almost as if it wants him to sink into them. The ocean calls to him, like a siren. He walks up far enough, just before the water's edge before sitting down. Andy glances up at the sky, "What were you thinking, son?" He swallows, "You had two little sisters that needed you. You had me. You...you gave it all up."

Andy removes the bag from the bottle ever so slightly, unscrewing the cap. He brings it to his nose, closing his eyes as he inhales the relaxing scent. "And for what? To get to Heaven? It doesn't exist. You killed yourself for nothing." He moves his face down, looking at the water lapping against the sand, "For absolutely nothing. Mac is broken up...just...completely broken. I can't even do anything to fix it."

He swallows, looking at the bottle again, "I'm...I'm so angry with you that I can't even see straight." Andy's eyes dart back up against the sky, tears finally filling them. He tried all day to hold it together for everyone else. I want my son back. I want the little boy with the red hat that I took to a Dodgers game...Remember that? You wanted a Phillie's hat so that it would be even since I was wearing my Dodgers one." He laughs a little to himself, "I think you were four then." Andy looks to the bottle.

"I'm sorry son. I can't do this." Bringing the bottle to his lips, he drinks down the wine-like alcohol. He closes his eyes, relaxing almost instantly from the taste, "That's what I've been missing." Andy drinks more. The large bottle completely gone in a matter of minutes, "Shit was a few hundred..." He shrugs, "I don't care. I really don't."

"Matty." He stands, unsteadily, and angrily throws the glass bottle into the ocean. After years of going dry, he can feel the effects of the alcohol seeping into himself. He closes his eyes as he stands, shaking his head a little. Andy sits back down after a moment, lying back. He closes his eyes.

Louie Provenza sighs, noticing the license plate of his best friend's car. He parks next to it and quickly send a text message to his Captain that he found her husband. Climbing out of the car, he slams the door behind him. Unprepared for trudging in the sand, he curses at himself for not removing his shoes. Spotting his friend lying on the sand, he rushes to him, "Flynn." He yells, kneeling next to him.

Provenza leans in closer to the man, closing his eyes in sadness and disappointment when he smells the distinct smell of Andy's former favorite poison on his breath. He looks to the shoreline, seeing the bottle rolling at it's surface, "You got the big one." He shakes his head, sitting in the sand finally, "I could punch you right now."

Andy flinches slightly, hearing the distinct raspy voice of his friend, "Louie, hey." He grins, chuckling to himself.

"I've got to get you out of here before we're given a citation." The shorter man slowly rises from the sand with a grunt and some effort, "You'll come to my house to sleep it off."

"I'm fine. I just want to go home to my woman." He shakes his head, trying to stand, but quickly realizing how bad his head is swimming, "What happened, Louie?"

"Come on." Provenza attempts to help him, "We'll get you a cold shower...let you sober up and then find a meeting."

"I'm fine." Andy shakes his head, finally standing. His arm draped across his friend's shoulders, "Matty died, Louie."

"I know, Flynn." He slowly helps him walk to his car.

"I miss him a lot."

"I know." Provenza sighs, feeling the slight burn of tears in his own eyes. Never has he seen his best friend experience such anguish, "Sharon was worried. Didn't know where you were."

"I was at the beach." Flynn mumbles.

"She didn't know that. Where is your phone?"

He shakes his head, "Threw out the window a few miles back. How long I been out if she sent a search party for me?" Andy brings a hand to his face, roughly rubbing it against his features. He slurs his words ever so slightly.

"Most of the day. Fourteen hours, at least...if not more." Provenza helps the man into the back seat, "Don't throw up in my fucking car." He buckles his friend in.

"Trudy never looks for me. She hates me."

Louie pauses, looking the man in the face, "Flynn, you haven't been married to her for...Fifteen years...more than that." He shakes his head, "I mean Sharon Raydor...Married her a few years ago. You have a little girl named Kate who is the best thing you ever created in your entire life."

"Kate?"

He nods, "She's nearly four...pushing twenty."

Andy watches him, unsure if his brain doesn't care or what it's trying to do. His head still with the ocean. "Remember, Louie, remember when I took Matty to that ball game when he was small? He wore the red hat? Bought him all that Dodgers stuff and he wanted the damn Phillie's hat. Remember, Louie?"

"Of course, Andy." Louie closes the door and wipes a fallen tear with his handkerchief he retrieves from his pocket. This was painful. This isn't like the other times when he'd pick the man up from a bar or in a parking lot, rolling in a puddle. This isn't like that. This is different.

"He loved that game. Didn't ever stop talking about hated that he actually had a good time." Flynn huffs a laugh, "Don't even know why I married her."

"Because, at one point in time, you loved her. When she got knocked up with Matt, you did the right thing by it."

"I did the right thing."

"Yeah." Provenza starts the car, pulling from the spot. He rolls the back window down, letting the cool air hit the man in the face, "Then Mac came along-"

"Mackenzie."

"She hates that. Mac came along and she was the apple of your eye, but her mother poisoned her against you, at least she thought she did. You all divorced a year after she was born. She shacked up with some lunatic religious nut."

"I remember. Mac tried to kill herself."

"There you go." Louie nods, "It's why she was at the hospital with Eve. Remember? We went together. She was so happy to see you."

"And Kate...with Sharon?"

"Yeah..." He glances back to his friend using the rear view mirror, "Talk about a shocker."

"She has great legs...and chest..." Andy grinned slowly, "Yeah...the brunette who investigated us all the time..."

"That'd be the one."

"She's amazing."

"I'll take your word for it." Provenza smirked a little, the drive was long, but most of it was spent drowning out Flynn's snoring with the radio. Pulling into the driveway, he's met with Liz peering through the screen door, "Get out here and help me."

"How much did he have?" Liz glances to her former husband, helping him move the man, "Where are his shoes?"

"I didn't see them on the beach. Probably in his car...at the beach." Louie shakes his head, lifting the man up, letting the woman lift his feet, "He had an entire large bottle of Vermouth...the good kind. He never skimped on his liqour.

"Holy shit." She looks to him with wide eyes, "He's out cold, Louie."

"I know it."

Andy moans a little in his slumber.

"To the shower." Provenza nods.

"What about his suit?"

"What about it?"

"It's a very nice suit. Just drenching him in water would ruin it." Liz shakes her head, "Put him down." She slowly lowers his feet, waiting for Louie to do the same. She smiles to him when he does, "Thank you." She kneels next to her former husband's best friend and begins to unbutton his clothing.

"You know, I can't say I've ever watched you undress another man before." Provenza furrows his brow, "Can't say I like it much."

"I can't say I like it very much. Would it kill you to talk like a human being?" She sighs, "Help me with the jacket." She makes a face when Louie roughly pulls it off his friend, "I could have done that myself."

"Well, you didn't. Would you come on, already?"

She smirks, "Didn't expect him to exercise with a friend like you." She gets his dress shirt and his pants off of him. "Listen, I can handle this. Why don't you call Sharon?" Liz lifts him by looping her arms under his armpits.

"You sure?"

"Are you sure?"

Provenza rolls his eyes, "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I used to do this with you while we were dating. Call her. She's probably worried sick." Liz drags Andy Flynn toward the shower in their master suite.

Louie sighs, pulling his phone from his pocket. He touches her name on the screen and brings it to his ear, sitting on a chair in the living room and slowly untying his shoes.

"Louie? What's wrong?" Sharon's replies in a hushed voice. She rises from her bed, where she was sleeping with her youngest daughter and her step-daughter, and quickly moves to the hall, "You said you located Andy, is he okay?"

"He's fine. He was asleep on the beach." He pours the sand from his shoe onto the carpeted floor.

"He was-" She shakes her head, walking down the stairs, "He was where?"

"He goes to the beach sometimes when he's had a particularly stressful day. Buys a bottle of Vermouth and smashes it. It lets him know that he did something right that day. He hasn't done it for years though."

Sharon folds her arms, leaning against the wall. She swallows, able to tell the man was holding something back, "How much did he drink?"

"He bought a large bottle, ingested the entire thing. Passed out in my car. We're sobering him up and going to let him sleep it off here." Louie pours out his other shoe then tosses it by the door, "We'll get him to a meeting in the morning." When he's met with silence, he wonders if he was disconnected, "Sharon?"

"That's..." Her chin trembles slightly, the scorching heat of tears well in her exhausted eyes, "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"We'll get him through it. I'll handle it. Everything will be fine. Good night, Captain." He touches the screen of his phone, tossing it onto the table. He could tell she was crying. He could hear it in her voice.

Sharon slowly sinks to the floor, pulling her knees up and resting her head against them as she sobs, "Damn it." She throws her mobile phone at the wall, then covers her face with her hands. She lets her body heave with the stress of the situation and the day past.