Chapter Text
< 2004 Los Angeles, CA >
“I— I should have been there!” Shawn muttered out through clenched teeth. “I was too late…”
“Listen kid, there was nothing you could have done. I’m sorry. It’s never easy— these situations— ” Captain Breighton tried to assure his young detective. It wasn’t the first time they had this conversation, but as Shawn had barged into his office exactly two minutes after he had arrived at the LAPD headquarters that morning and placed his gun and badge on the Captain’s desk, it very well might be the last.
“I can’t. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t be here.” Shawn interrupted.
Breighton sympathized. Shawn wasn’t ready for a new assignment, he knew this. That’s why the detective had been placed on desk duty once he had returned to the precinct the previous week. It also hadn’t gone unnoticed that Shawn had missed all of his scheduled shifts since then too.
“Okay.” The Captain agreed quietly.
“Okay?” Shawn’s head snapped up in confusion. He was expecting more of a fight. After all, he was good; had one of the highest closed ratings amongst his peers in Major Crimes, and was often lent out to his old department, Robbery and Homicide, and would take on the extra workload without complaint.
“Yes.” Breighton assured. “Spence, you’re one of the best god damn detectives that I’ve got. But, you know that. You also know that I know how difficult it can be to— to loose a partner.” Breighton paused for a moment in which Shawn’s eyes darted to the Kimber 1911 handgun on the desk with an almost hungry gaze. “So here’s what I’m proposing— keep the badge.”
Shawn fidgeted and moved to interrupt but the captain held up his hand to silence him.
“Take some time. Take all the time you need. Hell, kid, you’re only twenty-seven, go see the country, see some of the good the world has to offer, because you’ve spent too much time in the underbelly… Just hang on to the badge, I’m placing you on extended leave.”
Shawn drifted between emotions over the suggestion, but settled on anger. One that had been a constant lately, broiling just under the surface, although rather than the self hatred he was getting used to, Shawn’s blame had shifted to his superior.
“You’re refusing my resignation?” Shawn asked unnecessarily. “Well, I quit. I don’t want to come back, not ever.” He shot the older man a challenging glare.
Nick Breighton had never been a man to crumble under fear, and he wasn’t about to start now. “If you don’t return, that’s on you. But I’m not going to let you throw your career away, not when you’re stuck in your head; not thinking straight.”
Shawn’s temper fizzled out just as quickly as it had risen. “Fine.” He snapped, displaying a level of disrespect that not even he, himself, would usually stoop to. And Shawn was probably the most informal of all the detectives in the department, well except for perhaps Kev…
The time Kevin had used his expert skills to dress up as the Captain for Halloween flitted before Shawn’s closed lids. He grew out a mustache and even managed to get his hair the correct shade of silver for the occasion. Everyone thought they looked identical, even the chief had graced the lower floors that day after hearing the rumors of one of his Captains’ double making an appearance.
Shawn couldn’t afford to think about his former partner. Not just then. He needed to leave immediately. He blew out a hard breath, making up his ever changing mind, and reached for the gun and badge. Breighton said he didn’t have to return, well, he wouldn’t. Shawn would make sure of it. Now he just had to get out of there, before any more unwanted memories washed over him.
“Ah. Just the badge.” Breighton reiterated. “You can have your sidearm back once you return and are cleared by a psychologist.”
Shawn’s eyes narrowed at the implication but he didn’t want to waste time arguing. He needed to leave.
“Fine.” He bit out again.
And with that Shawn scooped up his badge, which he clutched so tightly it was sure to leave an indent in the palm of his hand, and strode out of his boss’ office, feeling as if the fifteen feet to the elevator was fifteen feet too many. He didn’t bother looking around to see which of his coworkers had also arrived early. He didn’t glance in the direction of his desk which sat opposite of Kevin’s in the center of the room. He didn’t bother to look up and see who was getting off the elevator as he kept up his pace and smashed the button for the ground floor in the same stride.
And once Shawn was seated on his Norton 750 Commando, he didn’t look back as he drove out of the city he had called home for the last nine years.