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He couldn't breathe.
The world around him spun rapidly as he curled in on himself, the walls of the closet enveloping him in a cold and uninviting hug. He wrapped his arms around himself, mumbling incoherently in between sobs. There were voices outside, most unidentifiable. He could make out Natalie and Stottlemeyer, but that was about it.
It was a particularly brutal case, a poor woman had been murdered and beheaded in her own home, her head missing from the scene. News of the murder had spread like wildfire, news reporters arriving outside of the house before forensics had even packed up. Unidentified killings always made for good headlines, he supposed they all wanted to get the best insight on the situation.
Getting into the building was bad enough, not to mention all the camera flashes and microphones shoved into his face as he was herded into the house like cattle. The noise persisted as they began the investigation, The Captain and onsight officers having to go out onto the porch to try and push the reporters away multiple times. In the end, they had to call for backup.
Backup that took half an hour to get there.
In the end, he'd gotten so overwhelmed that he was sent into a panic, running into the master bedroom of the house and shutting himself inside the closet. No windows, one door. No reporters could find him there.
His mind was racing. What would they think of him? He already had a rather fragile reputation within the police force, a public freakout such as this would probably make everyone lose hope and belief in him. No one would defend him against the big bosses, even if they promised him that they would. Not Randy, not Natalie, not Leland.
If only Trudy were here, she always knew how to calm him down. Wherever he'd be sent into a panic for whatever reason, She'd wait outside the door of their bedroom and talk to him through it until he was calm enough to open it. Then, She'd hold him until they both absolutely had to move away from each other.
He was so tired.
Another sob creeped up his throat, this time escaping out of his mouth with a breathless wheeze. He gasped for air, choking as tears streamed down his face. God, this was awful.
The voices outside blurred into one another, footsteps floating further away from him. They came to a halt all of a sudden, hushed voices echoing through the room. Adrian couldn't make out what they were saying, but it must have been a long discussion because it took around 10 minutes before people started to move around him again. Someone began to move towards his closet, his body quickly sinking away as the noise grew closer.
“Monk?” Stottlemeyer called from outside, his shadow dancing between the gaps in the door. Adrian watched as the man stood there for a few seconds, before slowly lowering himself to the floor next to him. God, he felt like a child.
“We uh- we got the reporters away.” He coughed, shifting and fidgeting uncomfortably. Monk wanted to open the door, but he couldn't. Leland was his best friend, this certainly wasn't the worst state that he'd seen him in, but he simply couldn't open the door. Scratching at his hands, Adrian let out a whimper in response.
“Alright, you don't need to come out. Mind if I sit here for a while?” He sounded just like Trudy. Monk gave another small noise in response, hugging his knees close to his chest as if he'd somehow disappear that way.