Chloe is a good mother.
Or at least, she tries her best to be. And that's what matters in the end, right? Being there for her daughter, doing the right thing for her and loving her more than anything in the world— in the whole universe, really. The same laser focus and determination she puts on solving the cases given to her as a homicide detective she makes sure to put on being a good mother for Trixie too, all so she'll never do the same mistakes her own mother did, the ones that Dan continues to do.
Trixie is, and will always be, her top priority.
So when her daughter starts talking about angels and Devils and demons, telling stories about friends who just can't be real and deals made through prayer, she does what any good mother would do: she listens.
When Trixie tells her about her day and her adventures with her new best friends, Chloe smiles back and pays attention to every word, always making sure to sound supportive and to ask all the right questions, more than happy to see her so excited about something again, regardless of how odd it may sound.
And sure, it takes her some getting used to it and a lot of effort to keep her face neutral the first few times, but it's a cheap price to pay to see some light in Trixie's eyes again after everything they've been through.
Because Chloe knows. She knows things haven't been easy for her recently, she's always known— the fights, the divorce, the problems at school, and Chloe getting shot at one of her most recent cases certainly didn't help matters one bit. Even as Trixie always made such an effort to never show anything— smiling when asked and pretending everything's fine, something she unfortunately got from Chloe herself. Always too thoughtful, her little monkey. But a mother can always tell.
Even if in the end, Chloe never figured out how to address the sadness and worry she could still see troubling her daughter.
Until recently, that is. When it suddenly disappeared almost as if by magic.
She may not truly understand— Chloe's never been one for religion, never believed in any of it nor understood having faith in a God that allows so many awful things to happen while supposedly being all-powerful and loving and just, and it never made a difference in her life no matter how horrified it made her former mother-in-law. But she doesn't need to understand, not really.
All she needs to know is that Trixie's happier now, more confident in herself. And that's enough for her.
Of course, to say Chloe also worried at first is an understatement. It's a natural reaction, really, when your seven years old casually announces over dinner that she made a deal with the Devil and he's so funny, mommy, you should see him!
Her first instinct, once Trixie was asleep in her bed that night and Chloe could finally process everything, had been to treat it like a case, the only way she knows how to deal with what she doesn't understand. She spent the entire night awake finding everything she could about it— looking for similar cases, reading every research article and every mommy blog about the subject while doing her best to steer away from stories that were of fictional or sensationalist nature, and even googled about the consequences of taking children to church that young— until all her worries were calmed down and her doubts settled, and Chloe knew for sure nothing was wrong.
(And she's oh so grateful that Trixie's imaginary friends are only strange but seemingly harmless. There were a lot of creepy stories online that still make Chloe shudder just to think about. No thank you. She'll take the Devil with a sweet tooth and the demon who doesn't know the disney princesses any day of the week over any of those, thanks.)
Chloe looks up as the front door opens and Dan comes through, wishing them good morning with a smile and giving their daughter a kiss on the top of her head as she giggled. It's moments like these, the three of them together as a family, that reminds her so much of the old times that Chloe can't help but bask in the feelings for a minute, before she forces herself to shake the nostalgia off.
Because this isn't their house, and they've went down that road of trying again before.
It didn't work.
No matter how much she'd tried and wished it would, no matter how many promises were made. Dan would never change and she knows it now, knows that work is and will always be more important to him, so there's no point in dwelling on what-ifs anymore.
Besides, they've already signed the divorce.
"What's that, munchkin?" she hears him ask Trixie, pointing at one of the drawings next to her— of a man with red eyes and wings wearing a tux and apparently holding a glass of something in his hands. In the one Trixie's currently drawing so far there's only her in an astronaut outfit, but Chloe knows better than to think that will be it.
At least the drawing of a red-skinned Devil stabbing an angel with a pitchfork is nowhere to be seen. Even Chloe paused at that one.
"That's Lucifer," her baby answers proudly with a toothy-grin. "He's my friend!"
Dan raises his eyebrows, sharing a look with Chloe that is easily translated to 'what the actual hell', and she does her best to convey without words for him not to say anything. He nods but doesn't seem happy about it, mouthing that they'll talk about it later.
He turns back to their daughter, playing it casual. "Wow, it looks great, sweetie. Why the wings then?"
"Because he's an angel, duh. That's how he hears my prayers."
"Right… duh."
Chloe doesn't try to hide her grin at Trixie's nonchalant answer. For once, it's nice to see someone else not know how to react to Trixie's fantastical tales and replies. It's easier to see the humor in the situation when it's not her struggling to keep up with it. Though all her amusement dies a bit as Dan leans in closer to her, judgement clear on his face.
Clearly, he doesn't find it as funny as she does.
"So, care to explain?"
"That's her new imaginary friend," Chloe tells him easy enough, hoping that would be it.
Of course it wasn't. Though at least Dan has the common sense to keep his voice low so to not upset Trixie.
"Isn't she a little old to have imaginary friends?" Dan asks, and immediately seems to regret it at the glare she sends his way. He winces. "I'm just saying! I mean, she's seven already. She never had any before, so why now?"
"Exactly, Dan. She's seven. That's normal for her age."
At least all her research assured her was the case, and Chloe trusts herself as a damn good detective.
But Dan doesn't seem so convinced. "Still, the Devil? I'm not sure how to feel about that."
"I know what it sounds like, trust me, but they're honestly just normal imaginary friends. They like chocolate and watch disney movies with her and Trixie reads them bedtime stories." She shrugs. "Besides, it was your mother's idea to take Trixie to church with her."
It's meant more as a light teasing then an actual accusation, despite the many fights they've had in the past about it— Dan's mother's insistence about the importance of God and the church in Trixie's life always grated Chloe a little, who was never big on introducing children to religion that young, but she'd yielded since it was important to his side of the family— and they both take a moment to imagine Mrs. Espinoza's reaction to the entire situation. It helps lighten the mood, just as Chloe had wanted, but not by much.
"I'm sure that's not what she intended with it," Dan protests weakly, his hands thrown up, but there's a little amusement there too. Good.
Chloe gives him a small smile, trying to go for reassuring. "It's just normal kid stuff, there's nothing wrong with a little imagination. She'll probably grow out of it soon anyway," she says, though it's halfheartedly.
She honestly doesn't mind it. It makes Trixie happy and, well.
There's something oddly adorable about it all— the mental image of a big bad Devil who's really not so bad at all, befriending a child and singing disney songs with her as they make a pillowfort together. Like in one of the many movies with friendly monsters that never fail to make her cry. It's cute, really. Almost makes her wish she could see it, if not for the fact it's obviously not real.
"I hope you're right about that. I have no idea how I'd tell my mom that her granddaughter ended up a Satanist."
"And to think her biggest fear was for Trixie to grow up an atheist like me," Chloe jokes, sharing a private grin with Dan. "There's another one too— Masie, I think. Apparently they're two peas in a pod, and Trixie wants to be like her when she grow up."
"Oh? And what is she, a mermaid?"
They both remember Trixie's old mermaid phase from two years ago. She'd made them take her to the beach whenever they had a day off for almost an entire month, saying she needed to train so she could become one in the future and be friends with the sharks. It'd been a fun, if exhausting, bonding family experience. Chloe still has one of the pictures as her phone wallpaper.
She shakes her head, amused and beyond glad to finally be able to talk about it with someone without sounding crazy or like the world's worst mom, but she doesn't get the chance to answer beyond that.
Trixie pipes up from where she'd been pretending to not eavesdrop, sighing deeply as if Chloe is being very silly again, which has been happening a lot recently. "It's Maze, mommy! And she's a demon, not a mermaid, which is way cooler. She promised me she'd show me her knives one day, she has lots of them."
Chloe tries her best to not look sheepish when Dan snaps back to stare at her, his smile now gone.
"And Lucifer is really cool too, though not as cool as Maze," Trixie continues on without noticing anything wrong. "He always speaks really fancy and says bloody and mum— like in Harry Potter! I like him, he's a weird one. He answered my prayer even though he must've been very busy being the Devil and all, just because he's nice like that."
She nods and gives Trixie an encouraging smile, trying to look supportive while ignoring Dan.
Chloe will need to have a talk with Trixie later about how playing with knives is dangerous and very much not allowed no matter what Maze and Lucifer tell her once she's back from school, hopefully without Dan there to judge her and her parenting. Like he can even say anything.
At least Chloe is trying.
"Oh, awesome," Dan says, his sarcasm flying over Trixie's head but hitting Chloe as he had intended. "Our daughter's imaginary Devil has a british accent. That's just great."
"Dan—"
"No, I'm not saying anything else. I just hope you know what you're doing here, Chlo', I really do."
Chloe frowns, hackles rising despite herself. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Honestly, Chloe understands being worried— she was too when she first heard about it, so yeah, she gets it. Dan's like her in a lot of ways, it was one of the things that made her fall in love with him in the first place. They're both worriers at heart. But to doubt her judgment when it comes to Trixie's wellbeing? No way.
She refuses to feel chastened by a man who once forgot it was his turn to stay with his daughter two weekends in a roll, then had the nerve to use his busy job as an excuse as if they're not both detectives. As if Chloe doesn't have to work twice as hard to get half the merit in a police station full of people who can't stand her and would rather see her trip and fall.
"You know what I mean," answers Dan, in that same condescending tone that always manages to get under Chloe's skin. "She's our daughter—"
"And what, you think I don't know that? I'm not the one who always seems to forget that fact—"
"— that's not what this is about, and you know it."
She scoffs. "It always comes back to that with you."
A tense silence spreads through the room at that statement as it hits home— an old argument that always ends up being brought up one way or another with them, and quite frankly, she's growing tired of it. Chloe glares at the man who was once her husband, who she once thought was the love of her life, almost as if daring him to say anything and deny it, to prove her wrong.
As expected, he doesn't.
Instead, he sighs disappointed as if she's the unreasonable one and grabs Trixie's bright purple school bag throwing it over his shoulder, a sight that would once make her chuckle fondly but now only made her wince. Trixie, who's fidgeting uncomfortable from where she's watching them, drawings forgotten, with her big sad eyes that seem more resigned than anything else.
Shit.
A wave of guilt floods through Chloe at the realization that she'd been sitting there this entire time— yet another fight in front of her, even though Chloe had promised herself to never make her baby go through that again after she signed the divorce. Another broken promise. They hadn't managed on morning, one single morning, without it ending up with barbs being traded. It wasn't always like this. When did it all go wrong? How did they end up here, screwing up this badly?
How could they forget that Trixie was there watching them?
And of course, Dan takes her guilt as a win. Double shit.
"Come on, monkey," he says, his voice soft now that he's addressing Trixie. "Before you end up late for school again."
Chloe gives her a smile that probably looks as convincing as it feels; which is not at all, by the matching one Trixie gives her back— a look that shouldn't be that familiar on her face but is. She feels another stab of guilt at the way Trixie only nods subdued and gets up without a word, with not a trace of the excitement from just minutes before they ruined everything. They trade quick goodbyes, and Chloe can't help but hug her a second too long as a makeshift apology.
Because Trixie should never, ever have to deal with their bullshit the way she's clearly used to by now.
She watches them leave, shoulders sagging the second the car is out of view. God, what a mess. Chloe will have to cook her favorite for dinner tonight to make up for it, to reassure Trixie she hasn't done anything wrong and isn't responsible for her parents' pettiness always getting the best of them. It won't be enough but it's a start.
Chloe goes back inside, trying to recall if what she has on her fridge will be enough or if she'll have to do another grocery run for it— doing her best to keep busy and avoid acknowledging the empty feeling that always haunts her after a fight with Dan. She's about to clean the table of what was left behind from breakfast when she sees Trixie's drawings, and she's unable to stop the proud mama smile as she goes through them.
She stares at one in specific for a second, something about the stick man's red eyes bothering her in a small corner of her mind, before she shrugs and puts away all the crayons and various drawings with the exception of the one Trixie's just finished.
In it, she's drawn herself proudly wearing an astronaut outfit with a sashe that declares her the President, a huge grin on her face as she stands between two other stick people, both wearing black— one is the same recognizable figure from before, sans the wings and red eyes, while the other was unmistakably a woman, with long brown hair and darker skin. That must be Maze, then. The ground where they're standing was painted with bright shades of red and Chloe refuses to wonder what that might mean, instead willing herself to believe it's Mars. They're all holding hands.
That one she puts on her fridge.
