If I Go Crazy

*MemorialFantasy*

DISCLAIMER: I don't know who the hell would sue me for writing about a show that's been off the air for almost two decades, but whatever. I DO NOT OWN NIGHT COURT, NBC, , MY COMPUTER, OR ANY OF THEIR AFFILIATES. In fact, I know almost nothing about Night Court. This is a Birthday Present to my friend Markaleen. Happy Birthday Homegirl!
Note: Takes place after Phantom of the Court House. AU, which means that Charlie never existed, and Tony can go fuck himself, no one gives a shit about him.

Song for this chapter – Broken – Lifehouse.

Day Two

Christine woke up to a throbbing in her head. She could feel the dried blood in her

hair and the cold linoleum floor beneath her body. Her dress was torn, and her feet

bare. As she sat up, she smacked her head on the bottom of a desk, a desk similar

to her own. To her horror, she realized that the room she was in was a mock court,

one that mirrored her own. As she crawled out from underneath the desk, she saw

that everyone was at their posts, and not only that, no one was surprised that she

was exhibiting the behavior of a small child. She took in her surroundings: All of

her colleagues (with the exception of Dan, and Dan was truly an exception) were

replicated in Cardboard. Dan was running around the room, crudely imitating the

voices of Bull, Roz, Mac, Bernadette, and worst of all, Harry. As Dan mocked

them all, Christine's heart broke. When Dan turned around, he noticed her

consciousness. "Christine Sullivan!" He exclaimed, a white mask partially

covering his face. "How good of you to rejoin the land of the living! Just in time

for our next case!" Christine looked around looked around the mock courtroom,

and realized that , instead of a portrait behind "Harry"'s head, there was a tunnel.

"Dan?" she asked cautiously as he reappeared with a broken mannequin with its

hair tangled with spider webs. "Not now Christine, there is Justice we must serve!"

Dan replied before placing down the mannequin. He ran over to the cut-out of

Bull, and imitating his voice, said "Manhattan Court Room, the honorable Judge

Harold T. Stone presiding." He grabbed the cutout of Harry and replicated Harry's

gait, then bent the cardboard in half to make it appear as if the judge was actually

sitting down. Dan mimicked Harry's voice and horrible grammar."So, who do we

have here?" the scene was so believable that Christine had to go up to the bench

and see if her beloved Boss/Friend/Possible Future Lover was there. This

prompted Dan to race out from the bench, and grab the mannequin dressed in

ripped fishnets and a dirty musty red leotard. He ran up to the bench " Your Honor,

what we have here is a disgrace." He set the mannequin on its feet before running

to imitate Harry. "What are the charges?" Dan then went back to his normal station

before answering his own question. "Your honor, charges are Prostitution and

Human trafficking." Dan changed to Harry again, "Defense?" Christine looked at

Dan, and noticed for the first time that he was wearing a cape. "Dan, what are you

doing? Are insane? Where have you been? Everybody has been worried sick!

Heck, I don't even like you and I've missed you." Dan looked at her as if she were

the crazy one. "Christine, I can't go back. I'm not worthy of living in the real

world anymore. Ever since Phil died and Will stole all the money from the

foundation, I have been trying to piece my life back together. But, alas, every time

I look down the street, I saw all the people I could of helped, but didn't. I see all of

the people Phil helped daily. I've donated to every charity I could think of since

then, to try and ease my guilt. Hell, I even donated to the fund to give homes to

homeless architects. How many homeless Architects are there, anyway? Do they

really need their own freaking charity? Daniel Fielding contributed to it anyway.

He gave his heart, his mind, his vey soul to helping, and what do they do? They

impede his efforts. So, Dan Fielding became nothing more than a phantom, forever

to haunt those who hurt him!" With this he cackled. Then he continued the acting

out of this mannequin's sentence. Christine, realizing that this could go one for

quite a while, pushed together two benches to make a bed. Using her excellent

foraging skills, she found an old horse blanket, a chair cushion, a working

flashlight, and an old clock. She put the flashlight in her purse, and set up the clock

on a table to the side of the makeshift bed. She lay down, using the cushion as a

pillow and the horse blanket as a quilt, and stared at the clock. The time was off, it

must be, it couldn't be morning, could it? Her fears vanished when she realized

that the clock was broken, it was going backward. As she was drifting off to sleep,

she thought about Harry; his stupid haircut, his big, dorky glasses, his weird sense

of humor, and that crooked grin.

"Broken"

The broken clock is a comfort, it helps me sleep tonight
Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time
I am here still waiting though i still have my doubts
I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
With a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain, there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on
I'm barely holdin' on to you

The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain (in the pain), is there healing
In your name (in your name) I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin')
I'm barely holdin' on to you

I'm hangin' on another day
Just to see what you throw my way
And I'm hanging on to the words you say
You said that I will be OK

The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone
I may have lost my way now, haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing
with a broken heart that's still beating
In the pain(In the pain) there is healing
In your name I find meaning
So I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'),
I'm barely holdin' on to you

I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'), I'm holdin' on (I'm still holdin'),
I'm barely holdin' on to you