The following fan fiction contains characters owned by the writers and producers of Days of Our Lives. This fan fiction is purely for entertainment purposes.

The Chloe Whisperer

As he pulled into the driveway, he checked his pocket, for the fifth time. He wanted to make sure he didn't forget the surprise. He put his car in park, turned off the car, and leaned in his seat. He needed to relax before he can see her. He wished that the argument with his father didn't happen, not because he was in the wrong, but because it could mar his evening with her. He wished that he would have apologized, but he needed to see her, right now. He closed his eyes and attempted to calm down. After a minute, he stepped out of his car, slammed the door and set the alarm. As he walked toward the door, he patted his jacket pocket, making sure that the surprise was still there. It was, much to his relief. As he approached the door, he tried to relax. He wasn't doing anyone any favors by being upset. It's going to be a good night and if it took every ounce of effort within him, he's not going to ruin it. He knocked on the door, waiting for the 'cool' him to emerge. He has only a few seconds, so 'he' better make an appearance right…

Nancy: Brady, what are you doing here? You've promised to take a night off. You must be exhausted.

Brady: I know I did, but I have something for Chloe. Is she awake?

N: (smiling) Yeah. Come in.

Brady walked into the house. Nancy took his coat and placed it in the closet.

N: She's having a good day, today. I heard her singing earlier. She is, slowly, returning to her normal self.

Br: Normal?

N: You know what I mean. Now, I trying to get her to eat with us in the dining room. Craig and I will need some reinforcements.

Br: I'm game. Can I go up?

N: Sure.

Nancy led Brady to Chloe's room. She softly knocked on her door.

N: Chloe, honey, you have a visitor.

Ch: Is it Brady?

Br: Um yeah. No one else knows that you're sick, remember?

Ch: Well, if I didn't remember the voice, I would recognize the sarcasm. Come on in.

Nancy opened the door and walked in. Brady followed her.

N: Chloe, dinner will be ready shortly. Maybe you can join me and Craig tonight?

Ch: You know, I'm not very hungry. Could you bring up a tray?

Nancy and Brady exchanged glances.

N: Maybe. Well, I'll leave you two alone.

Nancy walked to the door, smiled at Chloe, and gave Brady a look. She slowly closed the door. Brady looked at Chloe. She was wearing no makeup and her hair was down. She wore a royal violet bathrobe, with lavender pajamas underneath. The brightness of her robe reflected into her eyes, making them seem a rich violet.

Br: So, what have you been up to, today?

Ch: (sighing) The same ole, same ole. I did my homework, sang a little, listened to the radio…

Br: Not exactly setting the world on fire, are we?

Ch: Don't start. Please… have a seat.

Br: Yeah, I suppose you don't want to lounge by yourself.

Brady placed a chair next to her bed and sat down.

Ch: So, Brady… how was your day?

Br: Oh, the same ole, same ole. Woke up, showered, brushed teeth, washed face, shaved, combed hair, got dressed, had breakfast, went to work. Came home, showered, got dressed, drove here, visited you.

Ch: That is the same itinerary you recounted to me for months. Couldn't you punch it up a bit?

Br: You shouldn't depend on me for a color commentary, Chloe. And for the record, I'm not the only one living a monotonous existence.

Ch: You're referring to me?

Br: Yes, I am. The only changes I see with you are changes in pajamas. Couldn't you put on some clothes, maybe some sweats? Sweats are just a step-up from pajamas, why not wear them? It would be some sort of progress.

Ch: I don't feel like it.

Br: Okay. Maybe you need a change of venue. Maybe going downstairs could be a radical move. I know that Craig and Nancy would love to dine with you.

Ch: I don't feel like doing that, either.

Br: (sarcastically) Well, I'm glad I didn't suggest a ride in my Jeep. You may have keeled over from the excitement of fastening the seatbelt.

Ch: I don't want to talk about this, Brady.

Br: (standing up) It seems to me like you don't want to do anything. You don't want to change your clothes. You don't want to go downstairs. You don't want to eat with your parents. Diva, you're developing the passion and the vigor of a speed bump!

Ch: How dare you speak to me like this?

Br: I can say whatever I want. It's not like you're going to do anything to me. There is no way that your butt will part from that bed. Do you realize how that makes me feel?

Ch: I understand that you're worried about me…

Br: Not only me, but your parents too. They only had you in their lives for two years and they had to face the prospect of you leaving for New York. For the past few months, they had to face the possibility of you dying. The doctors have confidence in your recovery, but it is dependent on your attitude. You're dropping the ball, Chloe. Stop putting us through hell. I am tired of this 'dying swan' bit. Get the lead out!