cнloe "тнe deтecтιve" decĸer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thevulnerability) wrote2017-04-28 01:59 am
thevulnerability) wrote2017-04-28 01:59 am
Entry tags:
quicksand {lucifer/chloe, post-break-up kiss prompt}
She knew she needed to stop moving if she wanted to live, but it was hard to let logic rule your mind when your body was trying to outrun death.
Chloe had been a cop long enough to know it might very well be how she died. Of course, she didn’t want to. Instead of concentrating on the possibility of the end of her life coming sooner than she wanted, she chose instead to concentrate on watching Trixie grow up, attending her graduation, seeing her get married, and enjoying a humble pension in the presence of her grandchildren. It was a normal, boring dream but Chloe was, arguably, a normal, boring person. She wanted to live her life until the very end, into a point where she could look death in the eye and say to it, without hesitation, “I’ve done all I needed to, and I’m ready.”
She wasn’t ready yet. She wasn’t ready to be buried alive in quicksand, under the arch of a dark cave, a reality away from her daughter and alone. So completely alone.
It had been stupid. Chloe was upset and frustrated. It had been three months with no sign of any change and nothing pointing to an escape. Wonderland proved itself more and more to be less of a land of wonder and more one of potential nightmares, and instead of adjusting like everyone seemed to be sure she would, she just became angry. It started like an itch in the back of her throat, an oncoming cold scratching its way forth, transforming into a fire that licked her mouth, her brain, her heart.
At first, it was just words spoken in desperation to those who had become her friends. Then it became cruel actions, disinterest, and isolation. Whatever adjustment there was to be made turned instead into withdrawal, and it wasn’t long before her anger at her situation and frustration at the people around her who seemed resigned to it turned inwards. She stopped looking in the mirror every morning, disgusted by the sight of the dark circles under her eyes, stringy, dirty blonde hair falling over sunken cheeks, pale skin almost translucent under the dull lighting in her sparse bedroom. She stopped looking because she couldn’t bear the thought of the coward that peered back at her every damn morning.
Chloe went back to the caves because it was the only option she could think of. End where it began, she remembered thinking to herself, although she hadn’t meant it quite as literally. She’d gotten lost in the darkness easily, her flashlight had given out and she had finally been ready to give up again, sending Lucifer a simple Lost in the caves again text message in hopes that he would find it in his heart to come get her.
She didn’t know if the devil had a heart. But on the chance that he did, maybe there was enough of her in it for him to forgive her.
Her device was already gone, swallowed somewhere in the depths of the quicksand she had unwittingly stepped into. Chloe had stupidly struggled long enough to envelop the lower half of her body before she remembered something about how you were just supposed to stay still. She was never good at staying still. Her choice was to fight and get swallowed alive, or float limply and wait for starvation or something worse that skittered around the caves to do her in.
Supposedly death wasn’t permanent, sure. But it wasn’t death that she was afraid of. It was the long, drawn out process she was desperate to avoid.
The hours seemed to crawl by, shuffling like the sounds of animals roaming the caves. Darkness brought an uncertainty to her surroundings that scared her. What your mind conjured in the shadows was always worse that the reality and Chloe could only see nightmares. As hunger set in, exhaustion followed quickly, and the caves grew impossibly darker. When she closed her eyes, her mind flicked through an onslaught of her life. Maybe your life flashing before your eyes in the instant of death was a self-fulfilling prophecy as if hearing people say it enough made you immediately review every mistake you had spent a lifetime making. Chloe had hated that saying, thinking it was a waste of time to mull on things that couldn’t be changed. Life was already hard enough without regret to make it more painful.
Chloe didn’t expect what she did see. Instead of a barrage of all her subconscious regrets, she found instead a strange peace. For a moment, she felt her parents around her, tucked into her bed reading her a story. She felt the brush of her father’s kiss on the top of her head. She saw Trixie at the table during taco night, her infant fists launching food at her laughing father. Chloe remembered how full her heart had been when Dan loved her.
And then she saw Lucifer. The smug curve of his lips, the intensity of his eyes staring into hers. She swore she could feel the pressure of his mouth on her own, and she didn’t have time to miss it, to mourn it, because it felt so real. Chloe could hear him affectionately referring to her by her rank, over and over again through laughter and smiles, her forehead against his and then his soft accent wrapping around the vowels in her name. Chloe. Chloe.
The shuffling in the dark grew closer and closer, but Chloe was too tired to open her eyes, too exhausted to fight. Something grasped her arm but she didn’t care, wrapped in the memories and warmth of her life, the accomplishments she had made, the lives she had changed. She was ready now, and she wasn’t alone. Lucifer was there with her, in her memories, whispering her name and telling her, It will be okay.
And for the first time since she arrived in Wonderland, she believed him.
---
The light filtering through the window of her bedroom had felt almost alien after the seemingly eternal darkness of the caves. Chloe was sitting up in bed, a warm cup of tea cooling on her bed stand. The silky soft of her sheets pressed against her bare legs like a caress.
She hadn’t died. At first, she wasn’t sure, but when the weakness and hunger finally faded enough for her to return to herself, she remembered what happened. Lucifer must have searched for her for hours, she gathered that much. He had drug her out with his impossible strength and took her back to the mansion, but she hadn’t seen him since. Three days of well-needed sleep and medical attention had passed by in a blur, but she was feeling more like herself now than she had since she arrived in Wonderland.
It was as if a switch inside of her flipped when she lost consciousness in the quicksand. It had been a cold splash of water, awakening her to the reality of what kind of life she lived. And she realized there was a difference between being a coward and just being afraid.
When Lucifer knocked on the door, Chloe had moved herself to a rocking chair near the window. The view from her room looked over the gardens and she found herself staring out at it, absentmindedly calling to him to come in. Her gaze shifted to look at him across the room. He seemed different.
It took her a minute to realize he hadn’t changed. What changed was the way she looked at him.
They didn’t speak as he came in, oddly enough. Lucifer was uncharacteristically quiet, slipping into the chair next to her. The silence wasn’t strained, or strange. It was comfortable, like a pair of worn jeans or the feel of the wool blanket she had pulled around her body. She could hear him breathing, slow and thoughtful, and she wondered what he was preparing himself to say. Chloe wanted to think she already knew. He had almost lost her again, and for him, things had never changed at home. He didn’t have the memories she had. He didn’t remember how their lips felt pressed against each other, he didn’t know how delicate he made her feel in his embrace. He didn’t know what it was like to look into her eyes, the way he had before like he was looking past her skin and into her very soul.
Chloe stood up, the blanket still wrapped around her, and she moved his arm so she could slide into his lap. He seemed frozen for a moment as if he were about to say something, but she didn’t let him. Instead, she leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut as her lips pressed against his. They sat like that for a moment, lips against each other, in something chaste and gentle. Finally, his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her closer, his mouth opening to accept her, to accept her apology for pushing him away, to accept her as she was, flaws and all. She kissed him with a depth she didn’t know was possible, her breath mingling into his, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to cry. When they finally parted, he weaved his fingers through her hair and pressed her forehead to hers.
“Chloe,” he whispered like he was calling her home.
Perhaps, it would end the same way. Perhaps he would be afraid again, and maybe one day she would once again walk through his door to find him gone. The chance was there, but this time Chloe understood. Life was scary, but she knew that these were the moments she would remember at the end of it.
And the heartache was worth it, she decided, just to know at the end of her life, whenever it came, she could close her eyes and remember that, even for a fleeting moment, she was loved by Lucifer Morningstar.
Chloe had been a cop long enough to know it might very well be how she died. Of course, she didn’t want to. Instead of concentrating on the possibility of the end of her life coming sooner than she wanted, she chose instead to concentrate on watching Trixie grow up, attending her graduation, seeing her get married, and enjoying a humble pension in the presence of her grandchildren. It was a normal, boring dream but Chloe was, arguably, a normal, boring person. She wanted to live her life until the very end, into a point where she could look death in the eye and say to it, without hesitation, “I’ve done all I needed to, and I’m ready.”
She wasn’t ready yet. She wasn’t ready to be buried alive in quicksand, under the arch of a dark cave, a reality away from her daughter and alone. So completely alone.
It had been stupid. Chloe was upset and frustrated. It had been three months with no sign of any change and nothing pointing to an escape. Wonderland proved itself more and more to be less of a land of wonder and more one of potential nightmares, and instead of adjusting like everyone seemed to be sure she would, she just became angry. It started like an itch in the back of her throat, an oncoming cold scratching its way forth, transforming into a fire that licked her mouth, her brain, her heart.
At first, it was just words spoken in desperation to those who had become her friends. Then it became cruel actions, disinterest, and isolation. Whatever adjustment there was to be made turned instead into withdrawal, and it wasn’t long before her anger at her situation and frustration at the people around her who seemed resigned to it turned inwards. She stopped looking in the mirror every morning, disgusted by the sight of the dark circles under her eyes, stringy, dirty blonde hair falling over sunken cheeks, pale skin almost translucent under the dull lighting in her sparse bedroom. She stopped looking because she couldn’t bear the thought of the coward that peered back at her every damn morning.
Chloe went back to the caves because it was the only option she could think of. End where it began, she remembered thinking to herself, although she hadn’t meant it quite as literally. She’d gotten lost in the darkness easily, her flashlight had given out and she had finally been ready to give up again, sending Lucifer a simple Lost in the caves again text message in hopes that he would find it in his heart to come get her.
She didn’t know if the devil had a heart. But on the chance that he did, maybe there was enough of her in it for him to forgive her.
Her device was already gone, swallowed somewhere in the depths of the quicksand she had unwittingly stepped into. Chloe had stupidly struggled long enough to envelop the lower half of her body before she remembered something about how you were just supposed to stay still. She was never good at staying still. Her choice was to fight and get swallowed alive, or float limply and wait for starvation or something worse that skittered around the caves to do her in.
Supposedly death wasn’t permanent, sure. But it wasn’t death that she was afraid of. It was the long, drawn out process she was desperate to avoid.
The hours seemed to crawl by, shuffling like the sounds of animals roaming the caves. Darkness brought an uncertainty to her surroundings that scared her. What your mind conjured in the shadows was always worse that the reality and Chloe could only see nightmares. As hunger set in, exhaustion followed quickly, and the caves grew impossibly darker. When she closed her eyes, her mind flicked through an onslaught of her life. Maybe your life flashing before your eyes in the instant of death was a self-fulfilling prophecy as if hearing people say it enough made you immediately review every mistake you had spent a lifetime making. Chloe had hated that saying, thinking it was a waste of time to mull on things that couldn’t be changed. Life was already hard enough without regret to make it more painful.
Chloe didn’t expect what she did see. Instead of a barrage of all her subconscious regrets, she found instead a strange peace. For a moment, she felt her parents around her, tucked into her bed reading her a story. She felt the brush of her father’s kiss on the top of her head. She saw Trixie at the table during taco night, her infant fists launching food at her laughing father. Chloe remembered how full her heart had been when Dan loved her.
And then she saw Lucifer. The smug curve of his lips, the intensity of his eyes staring into hers. She swore she could feel the pressure of his mouth on her own, and she didn’t have time to miss it, to mourn it, because it felt so real. Chloe could hear him affectionately referring to her by her rank, over and over again through laughter and smiles, her forehead against his and then his soft accent wrapping around the vowels in her name. Chloe. Chloe.
The shuffling in the dark grew closer and closer, but Chloe was too tired to open her eyes, too exhausted to fight. Something grasped her arm but she didn’t care, wrapped in the memories and warmth of her life, the accomplishments she had made, the lives she had changed. She was ready now, and she wasn’t alone. Lucifer was there with her, in her memories, whispering her name and telling her, It will be okay.
And for the first time since she arrived in Wonderland, she believed him.
---
The light filtering through the window of her bedroom had felt almost alien after the seemingly eternal darkness of the caves. Chloe was sitting up in bed, a warm cup of tea cooling on her bed stand. The silky soft of her sheets pressed against her bare legs like a caress.
She hadn’t died. At first, she wasn’t sure, but when the weakness and hunger finally faded enough for her to return to herself, she remembered what happened. Lucifer must have searched for her for hours, she gathered that much. He had drug her out with his impossible strength and took her back to the mansion, but she hadn’t seen him since. Three days of well-needed sleep and medical attention had passed by in a blur, but she was feeling more like herself now than she had since she arrived in Wonderland.
It was as if a switch inside of her flipped when she lost consciousness in the quicksand. It had been a cold splash of water, awakening her to the reality of what kind of life she lived. And she realized there was a difference between being a coward and just being afraid.
When Lucifer knocked on the door, Chloe had moved herself to a rocking chair near the window. The view from her room looked over the gardens and she found herself staring out at it, absentmindedly calling to him to come in. Her gaze shifted to look at him across the room. He seemed different.
It took her a minute to realize he hadn’t changed. What changed was the way she looked at him.
They didn’t speak as he came in, oddly enough. Lucifer was uncharacteristically quiet, slipping into the chair next to her. The silence wasn’t strained, or strange. It was comfortable, like a pair of worn jeans or the feel of the wool blanket she had pulled around her body. She could hear him breathing, slow and thoughtful, and she wondered what he was preparing himself to say. Chloe wanted to think she already knew. He had almost lost her again, and for him, things had never changed at home. He didn’t have the memories she had. He didn’t remember how their lips felt pressed against each other, he didn’t know how delicate he made her feel in his embrace. He didn’t know what it was like to look into her eyes, the way he had before like he was looking past her skin and into her very soul.
Chloe stood up, the blanket still wrapped around her, and she moved his arm so she could slide into his lap. He seemed frozen for a moment as if he were about to say something, but she didn’t let him. Instead, she leaned into him, her eyes fluttering shut as her lips pressed against his. They sat like that for a moment, lips against each other, in something chaste and gentle. Finally, his arms wrapped around her and he pulled her closer, his mouth opening to accept her, to accept her apology for pushing him away, to accept her as she was, flaws and all. She kissed him with a depth she didn’t know was possible, her breath mingling into his, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to cry. When they finally parted, he weaved his fingers through her hair and pressed her forehead to hers.
“Chloe,” he whispered like he was calling her home.
Perhaps, it would end the same way. Perhaps he would be afraid again, and maybe one day she would once again walk through his door to find him gone. The chance was there, but this time Chloe understood. Life was scary, but she knew that these were the moments she would remember at the end of it.
And the heartache was worth it, she decided, just to know at the end of her life, whenever it came, she could close her eyes and remember that, even for a fleeting moment, she was loved by Lucifer Morningstar.