The gun
by Belladonna

Guns.

They kill people, destroy lives. Cold dead steel that has the power to hurt so many, not just the one who's gotten hit but also the ones which are left behind. Innocent bystanders caught up in the crossfire of endless pain and devastation. Carelessly, guns are used sometimes without a second thought.

As a police officer, a man of the law, I have always carried mine for the protection of innocents. I have used it for that.

But now I am the one caught by that crossfire, feeling the pain that a gun can cause firsthand.
Van is dead, killed with my own gun. And I got blamed for doing it.
So why did I keep the gun, will use it again.

Because with this happening I've realized something about guns, I'd never known before.

It is only a tool. In the end it ultimately isn't the gun that causes all that suffering, but the person pulling the trigger.

It's not the gun's fault that Van is dead. But with it, I brought the one down who was responsible.

That's why I can keep it, even knowing that I might be the one responsible for somebody else's pain again.