A/N: I don't owe any of the Two and a half men characters and I am not making any money from writing this.

I did read few stories with similar concept (somebody trying to do something stupid and other person trying to prevent him/her) and I always felt sorry for Alan, so I wrote this. Hope you like it.

Beta-read by Molahsurey.

It was an unusually cold September morning in Malibu, seven am. Alan was laying in his bed, Lyndsey laying next to him. They both woke up half an hour ago, and Alan did nothing but blankly stare at the wall the whole time.

"Will... will you take a day off?", Lyndsey asked him.

"No", he said. "I... I need to work."

"I know this is hard for you, Alan. But Charlie would want you to be happy."

"If it wasn't for Rose, Charlie would still be alive!", he said, in an unusually harsh tone.

"Alan... You can't know for sure she did..."

"She was stalking him for years. She caught him cheating on her. And two days later, he ends up dead. Do you really think that is coincidence?"

Lyndsey remained silent. She didn't know what to say.

"I need to go", she said before pressing quick kiss on Alan's lips. "See you later."

Alan nodded. Lyndsey got dressed and left. Soon after, Alan got dressed too.

Before going on work, Alan staid standing in his room for few minutes, before tooking his secret stash of money hidden behind his lamp and puting it in envelope tooken from small table next to his bed, then in right pocket of his pants.

He knew he needs to do this. Charlie's death and Rose's speech on his funeral were the last straws. He always tried to be reasonable and work things out on calm, non-violent way, but now, when somebody he loved is gone forever, it's time for him to try something new, no matter what it takes.

#

During lunch break, Alan walked into a pawn shop, only half a mile away from his workplace, with latex gloves over his hands and black sunglasses.

"Hi, sir. How can I help you?", the clerk standing at the counter asked politely when Alan approached him.

Alan looked around before he started talking.

"I would like to buy... a gun", he said. He couldn't believe he actually said that and his heart was beating faster than ever, but he did his best not to think about that, because he knew that if he starts overthinking this, he will panick and quit.

"Do you have a gun permit?"

Alan took out the envelope from the right pocket of his pants and put it on the counter. Clerk carefully picked it up and looked in it. He saw three thousand dolars in it.

"Would this do?", Alan asked.

Clerk nodded and started looking for thegubi.

#

Alan walked toward Rose's house, latex gloves over his hands, gun hidden in his pants. He stopped, and took a deep breath, feeling smell of salt while looking at Rose's house.

Is... is he really going to do this? Kill a human being? Is he able to do that?

I need to do this. For Charlie.

He took out the gun...

"Alan?"

He looked behind himself and saw Lyndsey. His heart skipped a beep.

"Lyndsey?!", he called out, trying to sound casual while hiding the gun behind his back. "What are you doing here? I was just taking a walk down the beach when..."

"Don't lie to me, Alan. I know what are you planning to do."

"Do what? I was just..."

"Alan...!"

Alan looked down at the sand, defeated. He moved his hand away from his backs, showing the gun. Lyndsey, however, wasn't scared. She walked toward him untill he looked up and met with her eyes.

"Alan... I'll be honest with you. I can't imagine how I feel and I hope it stays that way. I only know that you must feel horrible. But murder is not the solution."

"Than what is?!"

"Look. I know this world is very imperfect. We are all imperfect people who make mistakes. And because of this imperfection, we also have no right to take law into our hands. Because we can only feel what is right and what is wrong, but we can't, we should not act upon it, because different people feel different things and that is not objective, or logical, it... it is not justice."

"This will sound cheesy, but really... the best thing to do right now is to remember good things in life."

"What good things? My mother who couldn't care less about me? All the bullying I went through in kindergarten, elementary school, and Middle school, and High school, and my first year on college? My two ex-wives who hate my guts? My brother who is dead? My neighbour who killed him and got away with it? The only stepfather whom I loved, and who is also dead? My new roomate who has no respect for me what so ever? Or maybe my son who hates me, whom I somehow let to slip from me and become a person I can't even recognize?"

"What about me, Alan?"

Alan swallowed hard.

"W-What?"

"Do you love me, Alan? Because if you do, you won't walk in that house, pull this trigger."

They stood there in silence for some time, Alan looking around nervously.

"I also loved my brother, you know", he finaly said.

Lyndsey felt her turning getting blurry and something warm and wet rolling down her cheeks, and some weird shivers going up her throat.

"Goodbye, Alan", she whispered, she looked away and started walking toward her car.

Alan simply looked after her for few seconds, having no idea what to say. Then he turned around, and started walking toward Rose's house.

He approached the back doors and held a door knob for few seconds, sweat rolling down his face and spine while he felt cold metal pressing against his gloved hand and cold sea air against his skin.

Would Charlie want him to do that?

Really, would he?

Do you love me, Alan? Because if you do, you won't walk in that house, and you won't pull this trigger.

He let go of the door knob, turned toward the ocean, and threw the gun in it. Then he walked away, toward Lyndsey's car.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Lyndsey turned around to face him.

"She... she killed him, Lyndsey", he whispered, before she walked toward him and hugged him tightly.

"I know", she whispered. "I know."