Title: - A Bad Day At The Office
Author: -Katt
Rating: - R (for strong language)
Feedback: - Like it or loathe it let me know
Disclaimer: - I own nothing and intend no infringement, so please don't sue me.
Author's Notes: - The inspiration for this fic comes from 2 films. The first is "Copycat" where there's a scene where a cop gets taken hostage in a police station by a criminal who gets another cop's gun because he left his desk keys where the criminal could get them and get his gun out of his desk drawer. Needless to say it doesn't end well for the hostage cop or the criminal. The second film is "City of Angels" which lets us listen in on people's thoughts. Not just the main characters but random people that are passed by in a library for instance. Anyway this fic wanted to be written so I wrote it.
A Bad Day At The Office
Detective Mark Stone
"Oh Jesus my keys…I left my keys. Oh fuck my gun…my gun's gonna kill another cop. I'm fucked…It's over…Everything's over…"
Jesus Perez
"I'm not goin' back to jail…I'm not goin' back…Fuck he's too tall…heavy…His heart's under my hand…like a bird, trapped…trying to escape. Shut up…fucking shut up…can't think. Everyone shouting…at me…all at me. Not so small now…not invisible. Every one looking…everyone can see me. I'll be famous…on TV…Outside…nowhere to run. Fuck I'm gonna die…we're gonna die. I ain't gonna go back…"
Detective Vic Mackey
"Fuck, how'd this happen…have to control it…get control. Don't get in his fucking way, asshole's hyped up…drugs, fear…get control. It's gonna be bad…shit it's out of control…spinning away…falling apart. He looks afraid…Dutch looks afraid. He knows…poor bastard…"
Detective Shane Vendrell
"Oh shit…god damn this is fucked up…it's fucked up. Where's Vic…Vic'll know. Glad it ain't me…Watch Vic…"
Detective Claudette Wyms
"Oh God, no…no, no, no. Where'd he get the gun…not Dutch…no. Don't get in his way…let him through…If I could get a clear shot. What if I hit Dutch…This isn't happening…it can't be happening…please, don't let it be happening…"
Detective Holland "Dutch" Wagenbach
"I'm dead…I'm dead…He's unstable, high on adrenaline and fear…I'm gonna die. In my back the barrel…stop, stop digging it in…I'm moving, I'm moving. It'll exit out through my stomach…leave a hole the size of my fist…Christ that liquor store hold up…you could see his guts…the hole so big as he lay on the floor. Stop shouting, he's fucked up, stop shouting at him…give him a car…money… a fucking jet to Rio…just get me out of this. Kill him…shoot him…I don't wanna die in the car park. They'll weigh it…my heart after the Y-incision, the rib cutters; they'll weigh it. Will it be lighter then a feather…Stop shouting…digging the gun in my back, it's burrowing through my skin like a worm…burning through my skin. Will it hurt…will I feel it…I don't wanna die…somebody…The sky's so blue…I'm gonna die…we're gonna die…"