Title: The Lengths
Pairing: Monk/Stottlemeyer
Note: This actually follows up on the episode where Monk loses his license. I still really don't own. Told from Stottlemeyer's POV.
The Mayor tells me to revoke Monk's license, and I try to stall for time. Try to convince the unbearable little prick not to do this. My heart clenches in my chest. This is all he has left. This is his one link to Trudy, to his life from before.
But it's my job.
Slowly, I walk over to him and Sharonna. She's standing there by him, his perpetual watchdog. Her eyes watch me approach. She's wary, can probably see the look in my eyes. Monk's too nervous. He knows he's treading on thin ice, he just doesn't know he's fallen through.
Christ. I rub the back of my neck and stare at the ground as I make my way over, before shoving my hands in my pockets. I want to tell Sharonna that I need to talk to Monk alone, but I know she won't leave his side.
"Ah…Monk." He looks up at me, and those dark eyes sear my soul. He's my best friend. Doesn't matter that he's neurotic, a former shell of the man I met all those years ago. I still love him. He still means more to me than Karen. I would still go to blows for this man, to bullets.
Everything in me demands I protect this man.
My tongue feels thick in my mouth, sticks to the roof of my mouth when I part my lips. "Well…" I rub at the back of my neck again, stalling. And it's the wrong thing to do. Sharonna looks at me, glares. She knows. There's no doubt about it now.
"Well, the Mayor's not exactly really happy with you right now. Actually not at all." I clear my throat, and sigh hard. "Monk. He wants me to revoke your license, so I'm going to have to."
For a second, that beautiful, brilliant man looks at me as if it's a joke. He's waiting, desperately, for me to laugh or say Just kidding or something. Anything. He's searching for the punch line that won't come. I can't keep staring into those dark, searching eyes.
Sharonna's riled up, angry. "Captain! You've got to be kidding me!" She's beyond angry. She's livid, but I'm not really paying attention. All my attention is on Adrian. I'm watching him crumple.
He disassociates himself from it. I can see him closing himself off, turning himself numb. It's like a lesser version of what happened when Trudy died. Like someone hits the lights, just shuts him off. And he starts to collapse in on himself, like someone has stolen his spine.
I'm grabbing for him before Sharonna even notices him falling. My fingers are grabbing at his upper arms while I'm shuffling closer. He collapses against me, and I let it happen. I can feel him quivering against me, clinging to me. His fingers dig into my shirt, holding him to me, and I let my arms be curled tight around his waist.
His breath is shuddering against my neck where he's burrowed his face, and I can feel the begrudging tears that creep out sullenly from under his eyelashes. "Leland," he whimpers softly, and I press my ear tight against his skull, those tightly wound curls rubbing softly against the dips and whorls of my ear.
"I'm here Adrian, I'm here." I can see Sharonna's hand rubbing up and down on his back, but I know he doesn't feel it. He's clinging to me like a drowning man. I'm his anchor. I look at her, tightening my grip around him just barely.
"I've got you." I love you. "I'll fix this Adrian. Don't worry." My fingers tighten against his lower back. I'll go to any lengths to fix this.