Disclaimer: I don't own Profiler. I'm in no way connected to the show.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reviewing. I'll continue writing the story.
Will you Take Care of Me?
"Angel! Angel, you got to let me in. It's John. Please, Angel, hurry."
"What is going on?" she asked me as she pulled open the two doors. I walked over to the couch and sat down. "John, why are you here? Weren't you and Sam meeting for dinner? Why are you be back so early? Have you been crying? John?" she asked. She paused, then her voice got worried, "John, where's Sam? Where is Sam? Come on, John, answer my question."
I looked up at her. It was hard coming over here, but I knew I had to tell her and Chloe. "I'm sorry, Angel. I'm so sorry." I didn't know if she would get what I was talking about, but she did.
She sat down, well more like fell down, beside me. "No. This can't be, this can't be happening. Is she, is she… you know?"
"Yeah, yeah she is. She's," I pause, not being able to finish the sentence. I've said the word so many times to others, why does this have to be so hard? I force myself to continue, because one of us has to say it. "She's dead."
She buries her face in her hands and starts to cry. I pull her into a hug. I let myself cry, again. I feel like I've already cried enough to last for the rest of my life. I barely cry. I can remember crying when I was little, when I got hurt by my dad for showing that sign of weakness. Then I got older, and I didn't cry anymore. The only other time was when my mom died.
Who knows how long we sit here crying. Chloe comes out, smiling, not knowing of all the bad in the world. Not knowing of the bad that took away her dad and, and now her mom. How can we tell her? That one sentence, 'I'm sorry, but your mom is de, gone' will shatter all her innocence. How am going to tell her that when I can't even say the word in my thoughts.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying? Is mommy back? She promised to read with me the next chapter in the book."
A promise that has to be broken. I look at Angel, she nods her head. "Sweetie, your mom's not going to be able to do that."
"Why not?" she asks.
Angel lets out a whimper and gets up, "Excuse me. I'll be right back." She turns around, crying and runs to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
"What's wrong with Angel?"
"It's your mother, Chloe. Come sit next to me. Good girl. Your mother," more tears formed in my eyes, "died. She was killed tonight."
"What? But, but that's not fair. Why did it have to be her?"
The question I keep asking myself, 'why her?' "I'm so sorry."
She starts to cry, "I don't get it. Why do people have to die? Why does God take away people? Is it a punishment? Whatever I did I'm really sorry. I'll be really, really good. Just please bring her back. I won't ask for anything else, I promise. "
"Oh, Chloe. It's not your fault. Come here. It's not fair, I know. There's just nothing we can do. I'm doing the same thing you are. I'm crying, I'm begging, I'm confused, and I'm searching for answers. I don't get it either."
Chloe looked at me, got up, and sat in my lap. She put her arms around my neck and cried into my chest.