Broken Wings

            Fin sighed as he pulled restlessly at the tie around his neck. Unlocking the driver’s side
door, he slid behind the wheel of the Sedan. Sticking the key in the ignition, he groaned as
slumped across the front seat. Through the obscuring throbbing haze in his skull, he reached for
the glove compartment in desperate need of relief. Papers spilled from the tiny compartment as he
searched for the bottle of Advil hidden amongst the rubble that was paperwork. Fin hissed softly
as a particularly nasty throb echoed through his skull, ricocheting off of one side and then back to
the other. His clumsy fingers slipped, sending the small plastic bottle sailing in the air and into the
back seat.

            Cursing vehemently, he lunged backwards in a futile attempt at catching the small
projectile as it bounced on the seat behind him. His shoulder collided with the front seat, knocking
the air out of his lungs as he landed hard. Wincing, he prayed that whatever deity was watching
him would take pity upon his pitiful excuse of existence and struck him dead right there as he
cradled his pounding head. Cautiously inching his way backwards into the backseat, Fin slowly
reached for the small plastic bottle. Closing his fingers around the white bottle of relief, he
retracted his arm all the while trying to ignore the tiny twinge of pain shooting through him.
“What a world,” Fin mumbled to himself as he lay sideways across the front seat and carefully
unscrewed the pill bottle top off. “If I died right here, right now I’d be a happy man.” Dumping
several pills out onto his upturned palm, he snapped the lid back on and tossed the empty white
bottle into the back seat.

            Dumping his prize into his mouth, Fin swallowed the medication. Draping his arm over his
face, the detective sighed as the intense throbbing continued in his head. Fin pulled the tie
completely off from around his neck and let it drop lazily to the floorboard on the passenger side
of the Sedan. Soft, primal moans of distress slipped from his lips in perfect rhythm with the dull
pounding in his head. He focused on breathing, sucking air in and out as he waited for the pain in
his skull to subside.

            Desperately hating appearing in court and more so as a witness, Fin was glad that the
slimy bastard was going to get his just deserts. The Special Victims’ Unit had spent the better part
of a month tracking down lead after lead before finally catching Mrs. Mary Finnie’s killer,
thankfully the Assistant District Attorney had rushed to file the paperwork and get a grand jury
indictment before the perp could get a chance to flee the country. Despite this bit of good news,
Fin wasn’t happy about having to return to the courtroom when the time came for the guy’s trial.
His headache marginally better, Fin scooted back into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition
over.

            Fin’s heart went out to the late Mrs. Finnie’s children as he pulled away from the curb and
rolled slowly through the vast parking lot. The oldest child, a daughter, had finally been located
and contacted earlier in the morning. Distraught and nearly hysterical, the daughter had promised
to fly back to Manhattan on the first available flight from San Diego, California. Until she arrived,
Mrs. Finnie’s younger two children were placed with a local foster home. Perhaps it had been a
blessing from the winds of fortune or not, but Fin was glad that the younger two hadn’t been
home at the time that their mother had been murdered.

            He was looking forward to returning to the police station and delivering the trial report to
Cragen. Fin thought that perhaps he should take the time and tackle some of the paperwork that
had accumulated on his desk during his absence. The only thing that he was sure of as he slipped
into traffic was the fact that he needed to stop by his partner’s apartment. He sighed heavily as the
pounding in his head suddenly escalated at the mere thought of seeing his partner.

            Immediately following his initial release from the hospital, Fin had made it a point to stop
by the other man’s apartment daily. Yet after his first meeting with Huang, those visits had
occurred every other day. With each visit, Fin could see his partner withdrawing more and more
from him. It seemed to Fin that Munch’s sessions with the FBI psychologist were doing more
harm then good. A few days prior, he had brought his observations to Cragen with nothing to
show.

            “I’m telling you Captain, it’s like he’s slipping away into Lala Land or something.” Fin
said as he paced the room back and forth, “I’m not so sure anymore that these sessions with
Huang are doing any good.”

            “He says that Munch is making progress, Fin and I trust his judgement in this matter.”

            “Yeah, but Captain, you haven’t seen John lately.”

            Though it hadn’t been a question, Cragen had responded, “no I haven’t. I should stop by
for a short visit though.” He said rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he watched the detective wear
holes in his office floor.

            “You should, you know no one from SVU has taken time out of their busy lives to stop in
for a minute but me. It’s no wonder John is slipping away from us, it’s kinda hard to want to stay
in a reality where you’ve been convinced that you’re not wanted around.” Fin snapped as he
stalked for the office door, leaving surprised and baffled Captain Cragen in his wake. So intent
on escaping the office, Fin had nearly plowed Detective Stabler over as he walked in. Ignoring
the hurt and puzzled look that the other man shot at him, Fin stalked through the squad room.

            “Hey Fin, how’s it......” A small part of him cringed at the hurt and bewildered look that
Detective Benson shot at him as he stomped past her, a tiny weeny part.

            Shaking himself back to reality, Fin accelerated through the traffic as he switched his lights
on. Despite years of service on the force, he had never gotten over the sheer thrill of the perks
that went along with his job. During his tenure in Narcotics, he had seen and heard the sirens and
yet he had rarely had the opportunity to incite them himself. If he indulged himself now and again
in the vain effort to break the tedium of the drive, Fin couldn’t see any hurt. Truth be told, he
enjoyed the small amount of power that drove his fellow drivers to part before him and the small
abuse of his authority was nothing compared to what he had witnessed during his stint on the
force.

            Flipping his lights off quickly, Fin pulled into the precinct parking lot. Rubbing his tired
eyes, he shifted into park before turning off the Sedan’s engine. As the car door slammed close
behind him, Fin realized that his headache had disappeared. A faint smile fluttered to his face as he
opened the lobby’s glass door and stepped inside. Nodding to the clerk, he strolled down the
hallway to the elevator. “Hold it!” He called out as he began to jog leisurely towards the shutting
metal doors of the elevator. Slipping inside, “thanks.”

            “You’re welcome, Detective.” Leaning against the far wall as his breaths came in panting
gasps, Fin returned the officer’s warm smile. “What floor are you headed to?”

            “S......V......U’s.”

            The officer nodded his head and leaned his shoulder against the wall. “I don’t suppose you
can tell me whether Detective Munch is in today or not?”

            Shaking his head, “sorry. John’s on convalescent leave.”

            “Really? Hmm, you wouldn’t happen to know why?”

            “It’s a private matter, Officer..?”

            “Okay then, thank you Detective...?”

            “Fin.”

            The officer raised a bushy brown eyebrow, “Fin?”

            “Yes, ‘Fin’, I didn’t catch your name though.” Fin said as he glanced over the middle aged
uniformed officer. “As a matter of fact, I don’t recall ever seeing here before.”

            “Recently transferred from Brooklyn.” Before Fin could finish questioning the officer, the
elevator chimed as its doors slid open to reveal the squad room. “Have a nice day, Detective,” the
officer said as he pushed the broader shouldered detective out of the elevator and slammed the
button panel.

A/N

Two chapters for the price of one....lol, I know they're short....You're reading for the day: I see Munch angst in the future!