Reasons Why

(I am so SO sorry for the wait, I had a whole bunch of homework I had to do, and I couldn't reply.)

Watching as the world traveled before her very eyes, Monica thought about his question. "I pushed my wheelchair down the bridge. It's on a slope so after I got on the ledge, all I had to do was push my wheelchair down the bridge. I didn't really need it anymore, so I did what I could with it." The whole situation was starting to crash down on her. She had just tried to commit suicide. Her life had gotten so bad, so hard to deal with that she thought this was the only way. The worst part, she still saw it as the only way. Life didn't seem to look up for her, so she would just have to try again. That was, if the cop next to her would let her.
 
(It's fine, I've had a busy weekend.)

"Well. I suppose we'll have to get you a new one then. I'm sure I could work out a deal with a hospital near my work where I could borrow one for a while for you. We can take care of that either now or in about 12 hours. So uh. Take your pick." He said with a small half-grin on his face. The police radio began going off, causing Chris to have to turn it down. It was just some incomprehnsible ramblings about a car accident, nothing too entirely important.
 
Monica glanced at the radio, curious as to what it was even talking about. "It would probably be best to get it now so I don't have to ask you for help around the house constantly." Watching the radio, the woman felt a bit trapped. She couldn't really think of topics to talk about since the man had just watched her try to commit suicide, but the awkward silence was killing her. She had to think of something, anything, to break this God-awful silence! The brunette tapped her fingers against her leg, switching between watching the cop next to her, the radio, and the window.
 
"Alright, I'll drop by then. Are you hungry by chance? I haven't eaten since I started shift." Christopher cleared his throat and finally entered the air which was town. He ended up driving by the car wreck, he really should check it out...but since he was off-duty he wasn't really required to. Wait...what was I doing? Oh yeah. The wheelchair." Shit. Christopher's memory was starting to get hazy due to how tired he was, but other than that...he seemed to be functioning normally.
 
The man seemed a bit off, though Monica couldn't tell how. He seemed just fine. "I'm fine... Do you have a night shift? I was curious since you just signed out before helping me and all..." She was probably jutting into his sleep. The woman instantly felt a jab of guilt at that. He didn't need to help her, and she felt like a nuisance. Watching the man for any signs of fatigue, Monica bit her bottom lip.
 
"Yeah. I've been working on the night shift for about two years now. We had our shift Sergeant resign recently, and I've been thinking about taking over the position. I'd be one of the youngest, but I really want it. Anyway, what about you? What do you do for work?" Chris was having to make a conscious effort to not ramble on pointlessly in the conversation. The clinic, in which Chris was going to get her wheelchair, was only a few blocks away, but he seemed to be catching every red light possible.
 
The question caught Monica off-guard. Thinking about it for a moment, she answered. "Currently... I work in a grocery store." It wasn't a glamorous job, nor one she ever wanted to have. However, after her previous career abruptly ended, she needed something to do to make money for food and rent. Besides, it was close enough to her home that she could wheel herself there without worrying about other people driving her to work or not.
 
"Well that's nice." Christopher said as he finally made it to the clinic. "I'll be right back. Shouldn't take long." To be fair, it didn't. Christopher was out of the clinic with a wheelchair in a matter of five minutes, mostly in part due to his uniform. The badge always helps speed things up. Christopher thought to himself as he collapsed it, and eventually made it fit into the trunk of the car with a little bit of struggling. I'm still really hungry. I'll just make something when I get home. Christopher got back into his cruiser and then took off, heading back towards the more suburban and rural areas of the city's surrounding areas.
 
Monica watched as Chris got her temporary wheelchair. He continued driving, but the woman didn't want to be left alone to her thoughts. They would just veer back into dangerous places. Ones, she would rather not visit again until later. "You said you were a policeman, right? On the night shift?" She looked over at the man in slight curiosity, simply trying to avoid thinking for long. "What do you do on the night shift? Besides save people from falling off of bridges." The small bit of humor surprised Monica. She had just tried to commit suicide and now she was referencing it like it was no big deal? What was wrong with her?!
 
"Yeah, I work the Night Shift most times. I'm actually in the Gang and Narcotics Division, so the majority of my work focuses on gang activity and drug-related crimes. Right now I'm just in the Gang Enforcement Unit, so I'm a normal uniformed officer, and my task is to display presence in the city in well-known gang areas. However, since my jurisdiction is composed of the entire county, I like to check out the more rural areas of the county, and try to make sure that everyone's alright and that everything's going OK. This applies especially towards the end of my shift. But yeah. I've been debating for the past few months to either continue in the Gang and Narcotics Division and become a detective, or either if I should take the new shift sergeant position that's opening up in the Night Watch." Chris could continue talking for ages about his job, he really loved it, but he figured that what he'd said would be enough...and probably too much to be fair.
 
"It sounds like you really love your job." Monica had loved her job once. It wasn't even a job for her. It was her life. However, she didn't bring it up. It wasn't the time, nor the place for such talk. The young woman felt unsure as they arrived at the policeman's home, shifting as much as she could in her seat. The shame of getting caught on the bridge about to push herself off nearly overwhelmed her. She wasn't sorry for attempting the act, Hell she probably would go back sooner or later, but getting caught meant she was weak in the eyes of those around her.
 
"Alright. Let's get you inside." The main house was two stories tall, with a one-story add-on to the side. It served as a duplex of sorts that Chris would rent out on occasion, but for now it was empty. It was mainly simply just a bedroom and a bathroom, with a two-way lockable door on the interior of it so that rooms such as the Kitchen and Dining room would be easily accessible from either side, while giving privacy if either party required it. Chris stopped the car and got out, popping the trunk open and setting up the wheelchair just by the door so that it would be easy enough to slide into. "Do you need me to help you get in?" He offered politely after he'd opened the passenger-side door of the car.
 
The house seemed large, larger than anything Monica was used to. The add-on seemed smaller, probably more suited to the young woman. She was interested in seeing what the interior looked like. At the man's question, Monica looked down before nodding. "Yes... Thank you." She hated her need for help, but she couldn't think about that now. Letting Christ help her, she settled into her temporary wheelchair, glad she could at least move this one herself.
 
Chris shut the door once Monica was settled into her wheelchair, he walked ahead and unlocked the add-on side of the house. "Here you are." Chris began to show Monica around, specifically pointing out the side door that connected the two houses. "You can lock this from your side, and I can lock it from my side. That way, both of us have our privacy. So basically both sides have to be unlocked. Therefore for the most part, my side is going to stay unlocked. That way if you need anything, or if you need the kitchen, you can get to it. So yeah. Do you need anything or do you have any questions?"
 
Monica followed, glad to have her own mobility back, no matter how limited it was. She nodded at his explanation, looking at the small place in a vague curiosity. "I don't think I have any other questions... Thank you again for taking me in. Is there anything I can do to pay you back for this?" She might as well have made herself useful to this man who supposedly saved her from certain death.
 
"Well. I won't require you to do anything for a while. But since I'm going to have to start paying for extra appliance usage on that side, I suppose we could discuss paying a rent once you've settled in and such. But don't worry about it for now. Just relax and make yourself at home. If you need anything, just shout. I'm probably going to go pass out on the couch." Chris explained as he began fidgeting around with buttons on his uniform, eager to go up to his room and take it off.
 
"Alright. Have a nice rest." Monica nodded to the man before wheeling herself into the small add-on. The place was cozy, if not recently used. Immediately the woman went searching through the room. She saw nothing out of place, no sharp ends or pieces poking out. It was all orderly and neat, as if nothing was wrong. The young woman decided she didn't like this room as much. Moving to the bathroom, she was happy to find it at least could accommodate her wheelchair. Searching through the drawers, she found what she wanted. Inspecting it, she saw a bit of dust, but blew it off quickly. It was clean, shiny, and almost brand new. Taking the small razor blade, Monica hid it underneath her temporary pillow in case of an emergency.
 
Chris went up to his room and changed out of his uniform, taking a quick shower, and changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a fitting t-shirt. He went back downstairs and laid across the couch, turning the TV on. The sun was starting to shine from the other side. He'd completely forgotten about his hunger by the time he'd passed out watching some re-runs of the TV show Friends.
 
After looking around her room as much as she could, and hiding a few sharp objects, Monica moved toward the door dividing her temporary space and Chris's. She hesitated, unsure if she should open the door. However, she might as well explore the kitchen as her little place didn't have one for itself. With a shaking hand, Monica tentatively opened the door. Wheeling into the main house, Monica took in the homey feel. The sound of laugh tracks alerted her to the tv in the living room. She rolled into the living room, rolling back in surprise at sleeping form on the couch. Sighing, Monica started her search. Looking through the closets on the main floor, she couldn't find a single spare blanket. Sighing, she took the comforter off of the bed she was borrowing. Trying her best to cover the man up, she moved to the kitchen. He would be hungry when he woke up, she was sure, so she started on looking for something easy to make, keeping it quiet and avoiding trying to get things she couldn't reach.
 
Chris shook around in his sleep, specifically when Monica covered him up. Other than that, he was mostly silent up until the last five minutes of his sleep where he tossed and turned in his sleep.

~~Dream~~
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Chris exited his cruiser quickly, both hands on his Glock 37 .45 caliber handgun. His partner, Robby, following closely behind him. They'd just been called out to a shots fired call in the downtown area of the city. It wasn't long before he came upon a few bodies lying in blood, and two hooded figures running off into an alleyway. "I'll get the civs, you go after those two!" Chris shouted as he ran up to the three civilians, checking their vitals and calling in medical support. He did what he could to patch them up, but by the time the ambulance got here, two of the people had died. More backup had shown up on scene, and Chris left the bodies there and went in pursuit of his partner. "Robby, what's your '20?" He must have repeated that line four times before finally getting an exhaustive voice to answer. "23rd....broad...street. *pant pant* Hurry!" That was five blocks away. Chris got into his cruiser and activated the lights on it, however not the sirens, and then floored it as he made his way over to Robby's location. Robby was in the middle of a firefight by the time Chris had gotten to him. He was taking cover by an alley, while the two hooded figures from earlier were continuing to fire shots. Chris used the car as an extended form of cover, and began returning fire on the two hooded figures. Robby, however, in the middle of the fight was shot directly through the head, dying instantly. Chris didn't even notice that Robby had gone down until the two criminals had died. Before anything else could happen, Chris awoke from his dream.
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~~End~~​

He sat up on the couch, staring out the window at the bright light. There were tears streaming down his face, but he had no idea why. No recollection of the dream. He quickly wiped them away, still somewhat confused about it.​
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