Brother's Keeper

Summery: What if Adrian had been too late to save Ambrose when Van Rankin set the house on fire? Can Adrian deal with losing another family member to murder? Takes place during the '3 Pies' episode.

A/n: This is a one-shot I might, just might, turn into something bigger, should those who read this (God bless you for showing up), enjoy this. Very tragic one-shot.

"Can't you go any faster?" Adrian asked exasperatedly. Sharona could not hide her look of surprise at Adrian's words. She gripped the steering wheel tightly in astonishment.

"Faster?" she said as they crossed over the Golden Gate Bridge. "Oh my God, you must be really worried!"

"Come on!" Monk growled when they hit a stop light at the end of the bridge. "Go through it!"

"Adrian!" gasped Sharona. "I thought you didn't get along with your brother!"

"I can't lose Ambrose too!" said Adrian. His voice broke when he continued. "I—I'm not strong enough to bury another family member."

Ambrose Monk walked to the front door, amid the thick curtain of smoke that was beginning to obscure his vision. He knew that all it took was to open the door and just walk out. Adrian made it look easy, but then, he'd always been the fearless one. Ambrose felt his chest tighten as he looked out the windowed front door. The room began to spin and the agoraphobic Monk fell to his knees, gasping for air. Ambrose turned his head as he heard the sound of footsteps.

"A—Adrian?" he whispered.

It wasn't Adrian. It was Pat Van Rankin, his neighbor. Van Rankin pointed his handgun at Ambrose's chest.

"See ya," he said.

"Oh God, no!" Adrian said as Sharona pulled into the driveway of Ambrose's house. The house was aflame and the fire department was nowhere to be seen. "Call 911!" Monk told Sharona. "Call the fire department!" He bolted out of the car and ran to the front door.

"Adrian, what are you doing?!" Sharona demanded.

"He's still in there!" Adrian shouted.

"How do you know?"

Adrian was shocked at how dense his assistant seemed at times.

"Sharona, he can't leave!" he said. He ran inside without waiting for his assistant's reply. "Ambrose!" Monk called, suddenly inhaling a lungful of smoke. He coughed and called out again. "AMBROSE!"

"A—Adrian?" said the elder Monk brother. Adrian paled at the pained sound of Ambrose's voice. He found his brother lying on the floor near the stairs. "Leave me here."

"Ambrose, what are you talking about?" Adrian asked incredulously. It was then that Adrian saw the dark, wet stain on Ambrose's shirt. He'd been shot. "Y—you'll be okay. I won't let anything—" Ambrose weakly put up a bloodstained hand to quiet him.

"I'm shot in the lung, Adrian. There's—nothing you can do," he said.

"Don't say that!" the detective replied. He put one of Ambrose's arms around his shoulders and half dragged, half carried his brother to the door. "We'll get you outside and you'll be okay, I promise."

"No—you don't," groaned Ambrose, coughing up a mouthful of blood as he spoke. "You know as well as I that I'm a goner."

Adrian fought the tears stinging his eyes as he kicked open the front door. Sharona ran over to them, gently helping Ambrose lay down on the grass. She was crying as well.

"You're outside, Ambrose," she said. "You're going to be okay."

Ambrose coughed again, blood trickling down his mouth. He smiled weakly.

"I—I'm out," he whispered, tears welling in his eyes as he spoke. "I'm out…side—" his last breath escaped his lips before he could say anymore. Adrian fell to his knees beside his brother.

"Ambrose!" he said, sobbing into his brother's chest. "Ambrose, please! Wake up!"

Sharona consolingly put a hand on Adrian's shoulder.

"Adrian—he—he's gone. He's gone."