The lovely PhotonsBeFree requested an answer to what happened to Dupree, seeing as how he's somewhat MIA in s2.

I really tried to think of a happy one too, but I failed in that respect, sorry! Hope these may answer your question some x


#1.

He smiles at the kids playing ball. Gangly young teens laughing as their teammate skids into the railings and crashes to the floor, his footing lost in the cracked asphalt.

It was cracked when he used to play there, some fifteen years ago now. He remembers Johnno's black eyes and broken nose after he bounced on the floor, his sneaker still stuck in the crack even though he was a foot away. They couldn't help him for laughing.

Fifteen years and he was back where he started. Back in his childhood room, the one over-looking the park. The one that still had the Wizards and Redskins posters tacked to the walls, the inherited magazines in a shoebox shoved well under the bed, Jannette Freeman's number in his yearbook.

It was like the last six years were a blip. An insignificant distant memory already hazing with time. A daydream of being a federal agent in the capital city; chasing bad guys, fighting crime and ...and getting the girl.

His head rolls forwards, a hand smoothing over the tightly-shorn hair, the bandage.

He pulls his phone out and finds the picture again, the one from Christmas.

"If this gets on the internet, don't think I won't kill you."

"What are you talking about? They'd pay top dollar for this, baby!" He crawls back onto the comforter, the camera beeping in his hand as he presses for power.

"Karl -"

"I mean, look at you," he smirks, inching closer as she lowers herself down to the pillow. "Those eyes," he kisses her. "That smile," kiss, "That smokin' bod..." he laughs against her lips as she swats his arm.

He rolls off her to the other pillow and nestles in close, his arm stretched out above them. The shutter captures her wide grins and laughs as he kisses her, whispers in her ear, tells her he loves her.

The pad of his thumb swipes over her image. No amount of painkillers would dull this pain.

He made her cry. He made her leave, told her it was over, told her he never even loved her in the first place.

She doesn't deserve to be dragged into his darkened, small little world.

He would rather rot in a corner of his past than shrink behind a desk for his future. That's what they offered him. "Sorry you got blown up an' all, but we have an opening in admin with your name on it."

Death was an easier option than letting it all pass by around him while he sat there in his wheelchair, pushing pencils and dotting I's.

He opened the inbox. Message after message from her.

Please, I don't want to lose you. x

Call me back, please baby x

I miss you xx

He throws the phone across the room, it smacking into the wall and crashing to the floor, taking a picture frame with it.

He punches the arms of his wheelchair, low and loud guttural cries coming from him as tears fall down his face.

Across the room, his phone lies broken amongst the remains of his Quantico Diploma.

Xx

#2.

She remembers being told. Well, no, she remembers the Doctor being directed towards her. She saw his face, she didn't need any more.

He said the words but they didn't register. Something about him being a fighter, but the damage...she didn't know.

She didn't cry then. Didn't even cry at the funeral, nor the wake.

She felt bad about that. She was his girlfriend and she couldn't shed a tear? Not one single tear as the motorcade was driven through the streets? Not when he was interred, or even when the shots rang out into the sky? What was wrong with her?

But now, her arms laden with tulips and lilies, she sobbed.

The stone was rough under her touch as she traced over his name, her sight blurred as she crashed to her knees. Her chest physically hurt, like her heart was being turned inside out and ripped open.

It isn't fair.