Warning for an F bomb and associated swears, mention of PTSD, nervous breakdown, overuse of alcohol and visual/auditory hallucinations (yeah, I covered a lot in this chapter...)
Now read on ;)
Despite everything that had happened, now the evening was over, Chloe was glad she had been dragged out to celebrate her birthday.
The noise in Lux (once Maze had delivered her back to her keepers) drowned out the nagging, the champagne had dulled her anxiety and as she waved off the cab that held her compatriots she smiled, stumbling slightly on her heels. Perhaps she was more inebriated that she originally thought. Her ankles were killing her but she supposed it served her right for wearing almost five inch heels. It had taken concentration too to put the key in the lock but she managed, very glad that Trixie was with her Mom. She was in not fit state to parent tonight it seemed. In fact she was not sure she could get herself into the shower and bed at this rate.
Closing the front door she slumped against it for a moment, taking one foot off the floor, turning her ankle around and then the other to relieve the pressure. She breathed heavily and shunted herself off the wooden surface and into the house.
Her hand slapped against the wall where the light switch was and she paused wondering why the house was still in darkness. Focussing carefully she realised she had missed the switch by a good few inches. Chloe stood up straight and shook her head, taking step back and pushed it with a finger, making sure. The whole house lit up once more. "Better" she mumbled to herself.
As she walked, she suddenly stumbled again, almost bouncing off the breakfast bar as she went past. The alcohol, the sudden quiet and the temperature change of that walk from the cab hit her like a freight train and the place started spinning. "Oh, God..." she remarked, steadying herself now on the back of the sofa. She could barely focus on one foot in front of the other. "Why did I do it?" she whispered to herself. She wobbled again, her ankle almost going over. "Shit". Her hand thumped onto the sofa again to steady herself before she breathed in and out, in and out, in and out. Underneath the stupor she was sure she heard a door open.
Quickly looking behind her the front door was closed. "Stop being silly" she whispered to herself. "Just walk, get some water, shower, go to bed".
Her eyes widened as she heard a creak and, frozen to the spot, she went for the gun at her hip that was not there. "Fucking Jesus...why now?" she breathed.
Maybe it was the wind. It's not windy! Maybe an animal outside then. Yes, Decker. Perhaps it was an animal. Was it?! Yes, no it was. Must be. She had shut – locked - the back door hours ago before she left. Had she!? Damn. She genuinely had no clue if she had or hadn't. Carefully, well incredibly gingerly, she tottered along on her heels, dumping her bag on the dining table with an unceremonious thump.
"Hello?!" Her voice sounded croaky to her own ears from being in the smoky club for hours. "Is there anybody there?"
She spun around sure she had heard a scratch. Maybe it was a rat. She could handle a rat, maybe even a couple of them even in her drunken state.
There were two footsteps and another creak. Two distinct footsteps and they were not her own. She was stock still. The fact that she had to look down at her own feet and check ought to have been an indicator of just how drunk she actually was. "Hello?" she said, quieter this time. Another two footsteps; heavier this time and they sounded as though they were on the stairs. Trixie was back, she began to convince herself. Mom at worst. Yes, Mom or Trixie just back early wondering if she was the intruder. Then she remembered. Trixie had sent her a good night text hours ago saying she was going to bed whilst Chloe was still sober enough to wish her baby 'sweet dreams'. They were still in Sacramento.
Chloe straightened her shoulders and was prepared to kick off her shoes. She'd seen a woman stab a demon in the eye with a stiletto before. If it worked on a demon it would work on a common or garden thief. She bent down and the room swayed again. Or as was it her? Just as she got hold of one heel there were another two steps and she saw the feet of this person, standing on the bottom step. He or she - no it was definitely mans pair of bare feet! Bare feet?! Dreaming...hallucinating from some kind of alcohol induced psychosis more like. She would regret taking up Maze's offer of Lux's champagne in the morning. Actually, no she was wholeheartedly regretting it now. If he was a burglar, or worse, what if he attacked her? She had no way of defending herself, alone in the house. He was wearing black she noticed absently. She straightened up again, as though time was moving immeasurably slowly as the blood thundered in her ears.
Before she could focus she heard the person say something that sounded like the start of her name or it could have been a cough.
Blinking quickly she saw the figure still on the step but grazed and bruised knuckles led to hands gripping the doorway to keep himself upright. The figure was wobbling as though he was going to fall. "Chl..." The voice was stronger this time and for the second time in not too many days her heart leapt from her mouth.
"Lucifer?" Her voice almost failed her.
He raised his head, blinking against the lights in her house. "Just me", he replied, going to take a step and she could see he was falling. She would never be able to take his weight but moving forward, no longer caring about high heels, she just caught him. A violent pain shot though her hip as they crashed to the wooden floor.
She was still drunk. She had just fallen over in these stupid shoes and there was nobody there. Of course there wasn't. Why did she do this to herself? Every time, every time she was alone, unoccupied it started again. She'd be sober in the morning when the alcohol had stopped messing with her mind and nursing a hangover that would end all hangovers. It would be fine though. She was imagining it. It was fine. He wasn't there and she had just fallen over. Of course she had in her uselessness.
For thirty seconds or so, as she lay almost face down on the floor, Chloe closed her eyes to stop the room spinning even more. Even with the volume of alcohol in her blood it failed to numb the pain in her hip and the weight on her shoulders at 'seeing' him. Sitting up, she took hold of the heel of one her shoes and dragged it off. "Stupid, damn, fucking, bastard things..." With a struggle she launched it across the room, missing that photograph of her, Trixie and Dan that always stayed on the coffee table by an inch. She was crying now. In the fall and the fight with her shoe, her hair had fallen from its clips but she did not care. The point of it was what exactly? Suddenly, huge, wrenching sobs overtook her whole body, as she took hold of the other shoe and did the same thing. It bounced off the back of the sofa and skittered across the floor almost back to her. She went to kick it and missed.
"I give up" she mumbled to herself, noting the deep red lines that ran over her feet from where the shoes had pinched and rubbed. With a struggle she sat up further, shuffling slightly so she had access to rub her skin. "Never again", she cried, forcing away the tears. It was almost as though this was the last straw. "Every time, I mess up. Every time, I just screw it up and its always my fault". Her eyes closed for a moment as sudden sleep threatened to engulf her. She was so tired. Tired of work, tired of every day, tired of life, tired of... missing him. Linda was right. It was time to let go and once she accepted that the mores the better. She needed to move on for Trixie's sake. Even the little one knew something was wrong with Mommy but there was no way of explaining it to her even if she tried. At times she couldn't believe she had given life to such a smart little creature even if she was incapable of holding onto her marriage. She was pleased for Dan and Ella, genuinely so, except all she had done was move head first into a brick wall. A devil-shaped brick wall and she could not climb over him. Chloe giggled for a second through the tears. If she'd had said that around him he'd just make lewd remarks and probably would have invited her to try. She would have taken up his offer too. Still would. He talked so much trash about his 'prowess' but most of LA could probably tell her otherwise. Maybe it was a good thing she never got the chance. How would she have lived up to that? Every relationship she'd had had been fairly meaningless until Dan, but the Devil even if he was the owner of the most exclusive club in town? Really?
Chloe kicked out at the shoe again in frustration; this time making contact and it flew across the room, almost hitting the front door. "Linda is right" she muttered again, pressing her fingers to her eyes. She had taken a sneaky peak at her notes yesterday, knowing she shouldn't but the phrases '?PTSD?' and '?medication?' she could not miss. She didn't believe in pills and potions but talking was not helping. Chloe took a deep breath, forcing air out of her lungs as she sat up straight. "What am I doing?" she asked herself. "Falling in love with the Devil? Thinking of actually having sex with Satan?" There was still a tiny part of her that simply did not understand all this business of celestial creatures, Satan walking the earth, angels, but sleeping with one of them too?...Harshly, she rubbed her palm across her face, streaking what was left of her mascara everywhere as it joined the darkness under her eyes that layers of concealer and foundation could not cover up no matter how hard she tried.
Eyes still closed to block out, well everything, she breathed in again and the smell of burning hit her nostrils. She coughed a little, her head starting to hurt. It was probably just the smell of smoke on her clothes from Lux as she moved. She brushed the material of the deep blue dress she was wearing and caught a brief noseful of it again. "Horrible habit" she whispered. "Don't know why you don't just ban it in there". She paused. "Not that you can right now". Chloe sighed and shook her head, more hair falling over her face. "And now I am talking to you. Excellent! Wonderful!" she exclaimed. She needed to get off the floor and into the shower quick smart, out of these clothes and into bed but for this very moment, she simply had no strength.
Willing that feeling again that she had been able to conjure up of Raphael holding her hands, flexing her fingers waiting for that infusion of health and life and that she so desperately needed again. No matter how much her senses seem to have been dulled by the sheer volume of alcohol she had consumed, she was sure she could feel his fingertips touching hers. Ever so gently, yes, the slightest sensation of movement of her hands being enveloped in warmth of another being. As she breathed in and out, lungs filling with welcome oxygen, the sensation grew and grew, filtering up from her hands, wrists, elbows...Another waft of burning caused her to cough and the feeling dissipated again lingering only at the outer reaches of her body, just about hanging onto the pads of her fingertips. It felt so real though. Maybe that was his power and she needed to grab hold of it with all her strength.
Her eyes still closed, she waited. "Please, Raphael" fell from her lips in the barest whisper. "Just once". Her voice was almost in prayer state. "Just let me sense it properly and I won't ask again".
Sure enough, there was a stronger grip on her fingers and she smiled, breathing in, grasping hold, hanging onto him as much as she could as the sensation grew and grew. Her head began to swim again, but it was wonderful, glorious, uplifting, heaven sent. For a minute she was lost until that burning smell clouded her again and she coughed, losing her concentration to the point the brightness dimmed a little. "Come back, please come back" she pleaded, tears falling down her cheeks once more. "Come back", she whispered again. "I know I said just once, Raphael, but please...".
There was a second of silence and the grip on her hand began to feel real again and she smiled. "You came back for me".
This time the voice in her head was even stronger this time, but equally just as familiar in its torment. "Detective, open your eyes..."
"No" she responded shaking her head, starting to cry in earnest again. "No". If she did the voice that she longed to hear would be gone again. She could hold onto him this way in her imagination.
"Please, open your eyes". The voice was louder and the grip on her hand suddenly tightened, too much for it just to be a fantasy and her heart began to skip. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the last straw and she was breaking for the final time.
"No..." she cried, feeling the hold on her hands retreat again and she swallowed as she shoulders slumped and this weakness shrouded her again. She flinched as she felt a palm touched her cheek, a thumb brushing away the tears that continued to bleed from her eyes. She was falling, breaking, shattering into pieces and it was obvious that this was the end. This was too real as the voice had taken over; the sensations too much and she was flying into her own personal oblivion.
"Detective, listen to me, open your eyes, please"
She shook her head. Even words had left her now as she spiralled in to the depths of such sheer blackness. She felt the pressure of a thumb just by the corner of her eye, pushing slightly and it forced her eyelids to flicker open and she saw him as plain as day. Now she knew it was over. Now she knew she needed help.
"Please no, Lucifer". Her voice cracked as he moved to sit up, her hearing deep in the recesses of her failing mind as he shifted across the wooden floor. Chloe clamped her eyes closed again. That smell of burning. "If I look, you'll go."
"No I won't" he replied. "Look at me... Open your eyes, please. I came back for you, Chloe. I'm here".