Title: Manifesto
Author: bluesatin_8
Category: Definitely Drama
Rating: There's some language, but I'll let it pass with a PG-13.
Summary: Confinement does strange things to the mind. This is a look into John Clark's mind and heart as he sits in his jail cell after being framed for heroin possession.
Author's Notes: Some of you probably saw "Arrested Development" ages ago, but I only just saw it the other day. I'm enjoying my first chance at watching Season 10! I was thinking about poor John waiting in that cell to hear about his fate and this piece just came around.
The Classic Disclaimer: I don't own NYPD Blue, I just love it. Lines from the episode "Arrested Development" are used in this story. This was done intentionally for effect. The title, in fact, is part of a line from the above mentioned episode. They were written by the very talented staff at Blue who also created these characters. The rest is mine.
***
Almost time for lights out. Same time as last night.
Some great minds did their best thinking while they were locked up. That's what he'd told himself to keep from going insane.
But John couldn't seem to get any great thinking done. His thoughts were all muddled at best. Images racing through his head. People, places, moments in time. John smiled to himself, the sort of sarcastic smile that he'd seen on Andy's face a hundred times during their relatively short partnership. Wasn't this the kind of thing that was supposed to happen to you while you were dying?
Dying in here.
No. That wasn't an option. Everything would work out. It had to.
Pop. Always used to hold him when he was scared and tell him that everything was going to work out, that it would all be fine in the end. Always used to calm his fears. Tears came to John's eyes as he realized that his father was now the cause of most of his fears.
All the drinking, mostly. The damn drinking that had to stop. And this bullshit with IAB. None of it was the father that he had known. None of that was his hero, his knight, his father that he was proud of and wanted more than anything to make proud of him. Had that father ever been real? That was a thought that hit John like a physical blow, right in his gut.
John fought the tears. Everything had to be okay.
Holding her. Telling her those exact words when she was upset about the dead baby. Rita. Loving her, cradling her in his arms. She needed him then. That was when John had first realized it. He loved her more than he'd ever thought that he would. Seeing her in pain hurt him. He loved her and he wanted to make her happy, make it all better. Wanted her here now. He needed her.
Come to visit me again. We can cut through all this bullshit together. Let's hold each other.
Looking through the bars, all John could see was gray. That was apparently the only color the department had cared to bless the prisoner's eyes with. Gray. What a stupid color. John was really starting to hate it.
Hate. Fucking Laughlin. Set him up. John knew it, knew it down to his very core. Knew it like he knew he loved Pop and Rita. But couldn't prove it. Could Andy prove it?
Save me, Andy. Please, please save me.
John had to admit that Andy had affected him in a huge way that he'd shaped a lot of who he was. Who he was as a cop and who he was as a man. John grinned despite himself. Andy was a dinosaur, that was for sure. But the best kind of dinosaur. He had a good heart, and John had learned that occasionally his bark was worth more than his bite. But this was never true in the interview room. And never when he had your back. It was like having a second father, in many ways.
The cop, the man. I owe you, Andy.
But save me again. Please.
Lights flickering. Not long til lights out now.
Sweat on his forehead. John sank down to the floor and leaned his head against the cold, hard cement wall. He was starting to drift off.
Alone. Don't leave me alone in here. I need you.
I love you, Rita.
Pop. Don't drink tonight. I need you to be strong. I love you. Don't disappoint me again. Don't fail me.
Andy, don't fail me.
Just get me out of here.
Eyes closed now. Dancing on the edge of a dream.
Seven years old. Clutching a teddy bear and listening to Pop read Dr. Seuss books. Green eggs and ham. Green like the grinch.
Twenty-seven. Green again. New detective. Come on, Johnny. Make Pop proud.
Fights, screaming. Words spewing like blood. Andy, leave Pop alone. He doesn't know what he's doing. Not really.
Clutch the edge of the cliff. You're barely hanging on now.
Clutch Rita. She needs you.
Don't fall. Tour's not over for the day yet.
Slip a little. But you're still holding on. Come on, Johnny. Can't let go now. Not just yet. You're still needed here.
Free. Want to be free.
Escape. Beautiful. When? How?
Need escape. Take me away from here.
Darkness. Past dreaming now. More darkness. This darkness goes past my own body.
Lights out.
Author: bluesatin_8
Category: Definitely Drama
Rating: There's some language, but I'll let it pass with a PG-13.
Summary: Confinement does strange things to the mind. This is a look into John Clark's mind and heart as he sits in his jail cell after being framed for heroin possession.
Author's Notes: Some of you probably saw "Arrested Development" ages ago, but I only just saw it the other day. I'm enjoying my first chance at watching Season 10! I was thinking about poor John waiting in that cell to hear about his fate and this piece just came around.
The Classic Disclaimer: I don't own NYPD Blue, I just love it. Lines from the episode "Arrested Development" are used in this story. This was done intentionally for effect. The title, in fact, is part of a line from the above mentioned episode. They were written by the very talented staff at Blue who also created these characters. The rest is mine.
***
Almost time for lights out. Same time as last night.
Some great minds did their best thinking while they were locked up. That's what he'd told himself to keep from going insane.
But John couldn't seem to get any great thinking done. His thoughts were all muddled at best. Images racing through his head. People, places, moments in time. John smiled to himself, the sort of sarcastic smile that he'd seen on Andy's face a hundred times during their relatively short partnership. Wasn't this the kind of thing that was supposed to happen to you while you were dying?
Dying in here.
No. That wasn't an option. Everything would work out. It had to.
Pop. Always used to hold him when he was scared and tell him that everything was going to work out, that it would all be fine in the end. Always used to calm his fears. Tears came to John's eyes as he realized that his father was now the cause of most of his fears.
All the drinking, mostly. The damn drinking that had to stop. And this bullshit with IAB. None of it was the father that he had known. None of that was his hero, his knight, his father that he was proud of and wanted more than anything to make proud of him. Had that father ever been real? That was a thought that hit John like a physical blow, right in his gut.
John fought the tears. Everything had to be okay.
Holding her. Telling her those exact words when she was upset about the dead baby. Rita. Loving her, cradling her in his arms. She needed him then. That was when John had first realized it. He loved her more than he'd ever thought that he would. Seeing her in pain hurt him. He loved her and he wanted to make her happy, make it all better. Wanted her here now. He needed her.
Come to visit me again. We can cut through all this bullshit together. Let's hold each other.
Looking through the bars, all John could see was gray. That was apparently the only color the department had cared to bless the prisoner's eyes with. Gray. What a stupid color. John was really starting to hate it.
Hate. Fucking Laughlin. Set him up. John knew it, knew it down to his very core. Knew it like he knew he loved Pop and Rita. But couldn't prove it. Could Andy prove it?
Save me, Andy. Please, please save me.
John had to admit that Andy had affected him in a huge way that he'd shaped a lot of who he was. Who he was as a cop and who he was as a man. John grinned despite himself. Andy was a dinosaur, that was for sure. But the best kind of dinosaur. He had a good heart, and John had learned that occasionally his bark was worth more than his bite. But this was never true in the interview room. And never when he had your back. It was like having a second father, in many ways.
The cop, the man. I owe you, Andy.
But save me again. Please.
Lights flickering. Not long til lights out now.
Sweat on his forehead. John sank down to the floor and leaned his head against the cold, hard cement wall. He was starting to drift off.
Alone. Don't leave me alone in here. I need you.
I love you, Rita.
Pop. Don't drink tonight. I need you to be strong. I love you. Don't disappoint me again. Don't fail me.
Andy, don't fail me.
Just get me out of here.
Eyes closed now. Dancing on the edge of a dream.
Seven years old. Clutching a teddy bear and listening to Pop read Dr. Seuss books. Green eggs and ham. Green like the grinch.
Twenty-seven. Green again. New detective. Come on, Johnny. Make Pop proud.
Fights, screaming. Words spewing like blood. Andy, leave Pop alone. He doesn't know what he's doing. Not really.
Clutch the edge of the cliff. You're barely hanging on now.
Clutch Rita. She needs you.
Don't fall. Tour's not over for the day yet.
Slip a little. But you're still holding on. Come on, Johnny. Can't let go now. Not just yet. You're still needed here.
Free. Want to be free.
Escape. Beautiful. When? How?
Need escape. Take me away from here.
Darkness. Past dreaming now. More darkness. This darkness goes past my own body.
Lights out.