Authors Note: This is a post ep to Amends. If this is in contradiction to anything that happens after this ep, it's not my intention. It's just, he looked so broken after that ep, and that's all I've seen so far, so, yea. Origanaly intended as a one shot, this is going to have at least 2 chapters.

Disclaimer: Does any one own the Guardian at this point? Because if they do, it would be really great if they would put it out on DVD.

Nicholas Fallon sat at his kitchen table staring at the things he had painstakingly arranged there. It was a Friday night. He used to look forward to the weekends. It meant no work and more time with Lulu.

Lulu. The best thing that ever happened to him and he had screwed it up. He always managed to screw up the good things. He had let his addiction control his life. If most people asked about his problem he skirted around the fact that it was just that, an addiction. It was something to be ashamed of.

He looked again at the objects on the table in front of him. In the center, that stupid piece of paper saying he had successfully completed the 30 day outpatient program. The paper that he had hoped would show Lulu that he had changed that he was sorry, that he wanted her to come back. But it didn't. And there it sat, the only thing it would ever be, a piece of paper worth more money than he cared to think about, and it was absolutely worthless. Just like him.

He thought back to that night just a few days ago when he had gone to Lulu's house so full of hope. He had actually had the thought that she might give him a second chance. But she had killed that in just a few moments. He would never have a chance to make it better. It was hopeless.

He looked back down at the rest of the things on the table. Alongside his papers and law books that seemed to be a permanent fixture on the table now that Lulu had moved out were two things that could get him sent to jail fast than his Probation officer finding out he went back to rehab. An unopened bottle of scotch and a tiny plastic baggie full of a white powder.

He had been so careful when he had been caught the first time. He had avoided any situation in which denying drugs or drinking would be hard or impossible. He stopped spending time with some of his friends, he stopped going out to the bars to pick up women, he threw himself into his work.

Then he met Lulu and he thought he had a chance. He finally managed to get her to see him as more than just a junkie and a probationer, and to agree to go out with him. It hadn't been only about the sex like it was with most women he went out with. There was barely a difference between what he did and what the 'Johns' out on the street did. The biggest difference, the only thing he had to pay for was a few drinks and maybe dinner. If he was lucky he didn't have to pay at all.

His heart had broken when he found out that she was considering taking that job in California, and that she didn't tell him. He'd wanted to scream and yell and get drunk and high all at the same time, but he'd stayed strong. He hadn't given in to the demons taunting him from the back of his mind.

When she decided to stay on at LSP, that had been one of the happiest moments of his life. Even if they didn't get back together, at least he would be able to see her every day at LSP; he would be able to talk to her, even if she didn't want to talk about them, their relationship.

The night she had come to him when she had nowhere else to go, when trying to get away from her dad, that had made him feel as if she still had feelings for him. She had never told him that she loved him, even though he had told her. It wasn't easy for him, expressing his feelings like that, and that she had practically laughed at him, well, that to made him want to go back to the alcohol and drugs.

Couldn't she see how happy he had been when she had moved in with him? Couldn't she tell? He had asked her, he didn't have to. He could have said they should just start dating again, but he didn't. He would have asked her to marry him if he thought she would say yes.

And that's where he had lost control. He looked at the scotch again, itching to open the bottle and pour a glass. He got up from the table and got a glass, putting a few ice cubes in it and coming back to the table to stare at it. It wasn't a good bottle by any means. Just a cheap bottle he had picked up at the liquor store on the other side of town. He didn't want anyone he knew to see him. He'd end up back in that program. The drugs were easier. He'd had them in his house since that first time he got busted. He hid them well, they'd never found them. He hadn't pulled them out since that night.

She had said no. She had thought that the only reason he wanted to marry her was because she was pregnant. It wasn't that, he would have asked her soon even if she hadn't been pregnant, but she was, and she thought that was the only reason. He'd even got his mothers ring. Did she really think that he would give her a ring so small otherwise, but then, she hadn't looked at it either. She'd just turned him down; and wanted to go on like nothing had ever happened.

He should have just talked to her, told her what he was feeling, that he wanted to be a father, a husband. That he was afraid that she would one day decided that she was done with him and just take their child and leave and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Sure he could take her to court, but they both knew all the judges. The judges knew why he was in there every day defending the best interest of children. He'd stand no chance in court.

He thought about what Alvin had said the other night, after he had tried to get Lulu to give him a second chance. That the only reason that he should go thru such an accelerated program was if he wanted to speed up his life or stop it all together. And that's when he looked at the last object on the table. No one knew he owned it. Not his dad, not Alvin, least of all Lulu. He had gotten it from the same person that had sold him that little bag of white powder. He told the kid he wanted it for protection and since then hadn't taken it out of its hiding place next to that little baggie, but tonight, tonight he brought it out.

He picked it up, testing the weight in his hand. You never realized how heavy a gun was before you held one. Most of his experience with guns had been rifles, ones for hunting. He'd never actually owned one himself. Until that day he asked the kid about it. He didn't know what had made him think of getting a gun then, but was glad he had it now.

He picked held the gun in his hand, testing the weight, then sat it back down. He pulled his notebook towards him; he had never given Lulu the letter he wrote her. It somehow didn't seem adequate anymore. It seemed incomplete now that he'd finished the program. Now that she made her intentions clear. He pulled his pen out of his coat pocket and began to write.