Disher doesn't show up for work for three days straight and Stottlemeyer is
furious, thrashing about his office, showering papers on the floor with a
swipe of his arm. The room is a mess, coffee cups everywhere, folders
scattered about. Monk reaches forward but Sharona's arm thumps him hard in
the chest. He glances up and her eyes are like darts, stabbing him in the
heart. Don't even think about it.
So he won't. He won't think about it.
But, but there's a folder on the edge of the desk about to fall and...he can't...he can't. He nudges it. Stottlemeyer stops moving, something crackles, the room buzzes because lightning is about to strike. Monk doesn't even have to look at Sharona to know what her eyes are saying now. Run.
"This is YOUR fault Monk!" Stottlemeyer roars. "Now, because of you, Disher has locked himself in his room and refuses to come out!" He picks up the phone and waves it dramatically at Adrian's face. "He won't even pick up his damn phone." Adrian swallows, his eyes catch the folder again, one pale corner lingering by the edge. He reaches towards it. "Touch that and I swear to god I'll shoot your hand". Snaps his arm back, Sharona pulls him away.
"I'll go see him," Sharona says. Stottlemeyer sighs, sits in his chair, and massages his temples.
"Yeah, he'd probably listen to you," Monk knows he can't let this happen, he has to do something to stop this.
"I'll go," He offers casually. Stottlemeyer and Sharona give him blank stares. He suddenly feels cold and alone.
"You stay here." Sharona says, grabbing her purse. "I'll be back soon," But soon is bad, soon never works out. He doesn't know what it is but there's this feeling...that if he let's her go...well things are going to change. Sharona alone in Disher's house. Anything could happen. Anything. By the time he snaps out of his thoughts she's gone and Stottlemeyer is cleaning up.
"Want to help?" He says gruffly.
"Of course." Monk murmurs, but his heart isn't in it.
He calls her house because he hasn't heard from her in 6 hours. Stottlemeyer drove him home, the silence was terrible. He needs somebody, anybody. He needs Sharona.
"Heya," Benjy chirps. Monk sighs, even Benjy will do.
"Hello, it's me. Mr. Monk. I work for your Mom."
"I know who you are Adrian," Benjy mutters.
"Oh, right," He laughs sharply. Silence, loud sound effects crash in the background. "Are you okay? Is your house on fire?"
"What?" Benjy says half-heartedly, his attention focused somewhere else.
"There seems to be...explosions."
"It's a video game." Benjy mutters. "Oh no!" Monk's heart lurches.
"What? What!"
"Relax Mr. Monk, it's just a game." Just a game, the words echo in his ears and surround his empty apartment. 6 hours and 10 minutes.
"Is your Mom home yet?" More explosions, shouting voices, Monk feels like he's listening to a war. "BENJY!" He shouts.
"What?" Benjy exclaims. Adrian rubs his temples.
"Is your Mom,"
"No, she's not coming home tonight." Monk almost drops the phone. Everything is frozen.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, but don't worry, she's got somebody watching me,"
"Why isn't she coming home?"
"Don't know...didn't ask," Adrian groans. This is bad, this is very bad. "Look, I gotta go, Lord Zorbot is coming." The phone clicks and leaves him with a dial tone. Everything is glaring, too bright, he needs to sit down. Think. Must think.
But he can't, so he sits there the rest of the night, staring at the wall. Waiting for a woman who never comes.
So he won't. He won't think about it.
But, but there's a folder on the edge of the desk about to fall and...he can't...he can't. He nudges it. Stottlemeyer stops moving, something crackles, the room buzzes because lightning is about to strike. Monk doesn't even have to look at Sharona to know what her eyes are saying now. Run.
"This is YOUR fault Monk!" Stottlemeyer roars. "Now, because of you, Disher has locked himself in his room and refuses to come out!" He picks up the phone and waves it dramatically at Adrian's face. "He won't even pick up his damn phone." Adrian swallows, his eyes catch the folder again, one pale corner lingering by the edge. He reaches towards it. "Touch that and I swear to god I'll shoot your hand". Snaps his arm back, Sharona pulls him away.
"I'll go see him," Sharona says. Stottlemeyer sighs, sits in his chair, and massages his temples.
"Yeah, he'd probably listen to you," Monk knows he can't let this happen, he has to do something to stop this.
"I'll go," He offers casually. Stottlemeyer and Sharona give him blank stares. He suddenly feels cold and alone.
"You stay here." Sharona says, grabbing her purse. "I'll be back soon," But soon is bad, soon never works out. He doesn't know what it is but there's this feeling...that if he let's her go...well things are going to change. Sharona alone in Disher's house. Anything could happen. Anything. By the time he snaps out of his thoughts she's gone and Stottlemeyer is cleaning up.
"Want to help?" He says gruffly.
"Of course." Monk murmurs, but his heart isn't in it.
He calls her house because he hasn't heard from her in 6 hours. Stottlemeyer drove him home, the silence was terrible. He needs somebody, anybody. He needs Sharona.
"Heya," Benjy chirps. Monk sighs, even Benjy will do.
"Hello, it's me. Mr. Monk. I work for your Mom."
"I know who you are Adrian," Benjy mutters.
"Oh, right," He laughs sharply. Silence, loud sound effects crash in the background. "Are you okay? Is your house on fire?"
"What?" Benjy says half-heartedly, his attention focused somewhere else.
"There seems to be...explosions."
"It's a video game." Benjy mutters. "Oh no!" Monk's heart lurches.
"What? What!"
"Relax Mr. Monk, it's just a game." Just a game, the words echo in his ears and surround his empty apartment. 6 hours and 10 minutes.
"Is your Mom home yet?" More explosions, shouting voices, Monk feels like he's listening to a war. "BENJY!" He shouts.
"What?" Benjy exclaims. Adrian rubs his temples.
"Is your Mom,"
"No, she's not coming home tonight." Monk almost drops the phone. Everything is frozen.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, but don't worry, she's got somebody watching me,"
"Why isn't she coming home?"
"Don't know...didn't ask," Adrian groans. This is bad, this is very bad. "Look, I gotta go, Lord Zorbot is coming." The phone clicks and leaves him with a dial tone. Everything is glaring, too bright, he needs to sit down. Think. Must think.
But he can't, so he sits there the rest of the night, staring at the wall. Waiting for a woman who never comes.
