It was getting on 8:00, and, even though dinner at the Teeger's was the most enjoyable experience Adrian had had in a while, he knew he couldn't linger. Another sleepless night lay before him. He stared unseeingly out the passenger side window at the city lights of San Francisco. He felt again the draining emptiness ebbing away at his resolve. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, Natalie glancing at him every once in a while.
She had been worrying about him lately. Natalie saw his exhaustion and fatigue, despite his attempts to hide it. His eyes were emptier than usual and his mind farther away. After she had seen Adrian this morning, slumped over Trudy's case file, she knew what was happening. Natalie had gone through the same hell many times before. Trudy's face must be haunting him every waking moment, he must hear her voice and feel her presence on the outskirts of his mind.
Natalie wanted to help Adrian, but she felt that he needed to come to her, and, that if it got bad enough, he would. But after this morning, she began to have doubts. Adrian was a stubborn person, and this was his struggle, but she couldn't just leave him. He needed someone, and here she was.
Finally, Natalie pulled up to the all-familiar curb. She got out and walked Adrian to his apartment, despite his refusals. He stopped directly in front of the door, staring, an almost fearful look on his face. He turned toward Natalie, slightly pale.
"I can't do it, Natalie." he murmered. "Not again."
She looked into his eyes, sympathetic.
"I know, Mr. Monk."
And he broke down. Adrian fell to his knees, head in hands, shoulders heaving from silent sobs. After a while in this position, he sat, with his back to the door, tears and hidden pain pouring down his face. Natalie sat with him, a hand on his shoulder, communicating quiet sympathy. She knew this misery. The only thing you can do is wait for the worst to pass.
Eventually, his breathing slowed, and he looked up sheepishly at Natalie. The tears had stopped. He swallowed.
"I'm sorry." Adrian whispered. "I shouldn't do this to you. I-- I don't know... you should be home, with Julie. Don't let me keep you." he wiped his eyes.
Natalie, who had removed her hand, put it back onto his shoulder.
"No, it's okay, Mr. Monk. I think you need me to stay."
He averted his gaze, and nodded. Natalie was right. He couldn't hide from her. Besides Trudy, she was the person who knew him best of all.
"You're right." he relented. "You are absolutely right."
"So, what's been going on?" she asked concernedly.
Monk raised his eyes to the sky, blinking back unruly tears.
"I can't sleep, Natalie. Every night I see her. Trudy." his voice faltered for a moment. "Memories race through my mind at a hundred miles an hour. The first time I met her, our wedding, the day she died..."
He clenched his fists.
"Every minute of it haunts me, and I can't do a damn thing to stop it. I can hear her, see her, smell her... I don't know what's wrong. I've always missed her terribly, but not like this." he looked back at Natalie, chuckling darkly. "I feel like I'm losing what's left of my sanity."
Natalie nodded understandingly.
"I know. After Mitch died, I could stay up for days. Julie was so little. She couldn't understand why her mom would break down crying whenever I tried to play with her. She would hug me and cry too, but that just made it worse." Natalie wiped away a stray tear, clenching her hands together. "Then, one day I woke up and realized I didn't feel so horrible anymore. I still missed him, but not in the same way. I saw that I couldn't hold on anymore, so I let go. I felt so guilty, but I knew Mitch would have wanted me and Julie happy."
"I don't know if I can let go, Natalie." he groaned. "I don't want to forget her."
Natalie turned toward him, sympathetic.
"Letting go doesn't mean you don't still love her. I love Mitch more than life, but I'm not holding to his memory as if he were still alive." she looked at him seriously. "You can't live a lie."
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then stood.
"Thank you, Natalie." he smiled at her. "I don't know what else to say."
Adrian held out his hand to help her up, covering it with his sleeve.
"You don't have to say anything else."
There was a slightly awkward pause, in which both Adrian and Natalie averted their eyes from the other.
"I-- um... should go home now. Good bye, Mr. Monk" Natalie waved.
"Oh, yes. Good night, Natalie."
They stared at one another for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Then Natalie stepped up to Adrian, looked him in the eyes, and hugged him warmly. For a brief moment, he froze, confused. Then he lowered his arms, wrapping them around her, locked in her embrace. They stood this way for a while. Then Natalie looked into his eyes, locking his gaze. They were transfixed. Her face was much too close. For an instant Adrian was sure he would kiss her. But just for an instant
He looked away.
"Not yet, Natalie." he whispered.
Natalie stepped back, looking slightly embarassed, but not hurt.
"I understand." she smiled, and walked away.
Adrian opened the door, turning on the hallway light. He slowly walked down the hall, lost in thought. He had nearly kissed Natalie. They had been mere inches away, and, somehow, the thought didn't scare him. Halfway to his room, he looked up to see the same picture he had so lovingly caressed the night before.
He reached up to touch Trudy's face, but this time just felt glass. It didn't feel alive anymore. Something had shifted inside of him. He smiled at the picture, instead of the usual tears. Adrian continued to his bedroom. The clock cast a friendlier light.
He changed from his clothes into his pajamas, and lay down in bed.
Even though he was alone, he felt as though there were another presence in the room. Much kinder than the ones that had been keeping him awake. Gently, he closed his eyes, feeling unfamiliar waves of drowsiness. He smiled, before drifting away into peaceful darkness, happier than he had been in a very long time.
"Trudy..."
Acknowledgements:
Thank you any and all readers for being crazy enough to care about my random impulse to write at 2:00am. And review writers, without whom I would have dissolved into a small pile of shame.
Insomnia (to an extent) for inspiration. It comes in handy.
Emma and Lily, for telling me my story didn't suck. Even if it really does.
House, for keeping me awake. (and Wilson. And Taub, of course)
Imogen Heap, Frou Frou, Jim Moray, Seth Lakeman, Ruth Notman, The Weepies, Copeland, Roddy Woomble, Hammock, Rosie Thomas and Stephanie Dosen for keeping me sane with amazing music after all those long hours of writing.
And last, but most important, Monk. I've only been watching since August, and it's ending. I feel like I missed out on the most wonderful thing in the world. He was the only character I ever felt really attached to. We'll miss him and love him like crazy.
Depending on how it ends tonight, I might write more fanfiction. After I crawl out of my post-Monk depression hole. It remains to be seen.