Notes: Davis! Chloe. redk. Set directly after Abyss, a much shippier Chlavis alternate to Bride.


[Davis Bloome had waited exactly two days, nine hours and twelve minutes for Chloe Sullivan. 'I'll wait for as long as it takes', he'd told her then, full of that same kind of romantic blindness he'd told himself he'd never have.

(She had her own life already and he never wanted to be that guy, the one who wrecked the relationship of someone he claimed to love for his own sake. She had her fiancé and it wasn't even as if she even knew what she felt for him anyway.)

But he would wait. He had to wait. That was the only thing he had. He hadn't expected it to be like this.

He didn't know what he expected really. He hadn't expected to find her in the middle of road screaming sirens and smoking ash of all things. He hadn't expected her to be about to marry another man or to believe in him when no one else in their sane mind would. He hadn't expected her to run back to him, broken and remembering only him, after saying she shouldn't see him anymore. After that little problem had been taken care of by the prick of his needle no less, he hadn't been able to fight it any longer. She'd walked away for real.

The old adage was to let someone go and if they came back to you they were yours. That's what he'd looked at love like before, tentative movements towards some greater connection, something that meant something. It meant something. She knew things about him that no one else did, little secrets he's hid away inside himself completely deep. He would have given it all to her if she asked. The connection was there and it hurt like a limb had been cut from him, a burning gaping hole left by something that wasn't even his to keep.

It sounded silly to talk about that, agony, like one of those epic love stories with the violin playing mournfully in the background, those where you know you've lost before you'd even begun. Loving her had hurt even as it fulfilled; and a little part of him had always seen it that way.

That was even before he started waking up in the middle of a horror movie, on a floor covered in his blood, completely healed. Before he shattered knives with his skin, before he learned that there was more to the blackouts than he knew. Before he learned that he was a creature created to destroy and this little nine-to-five, everyday hero world he'd created for himself was a complete lie.

She was the only thing that was real and he just couldn't let go. Forget that it was her wedding in twenty four hours.

Forget that he didn't have control of himself and it was all he could do to drive by Isis every morning and not stop, just give into temptation once. She didn't call him and he didn't go to her door. This wasn't fatal attraction. He needed to be around her like he needed to breathe, but the first time he'd stopped breathing he'd woken right back up after the pain had stopped fogging his mind.

He'd wait.]


Endnotes: So, I'm doing something different this time. Long fic, short-frequent updates. Before we begin, I will warn you the rating will go up. I mean red!k? c'mon. ;)