Chloe Decker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
couldkillthedevil) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverview2017-06-04 01:29 am
couldkillthedevil) wrote in riverview2017-06-04 01:29 am
video | un: detdecker
Besides all this mumbo-jumbo about portals and the fact I've obviously lost my mind and am lying strapped to a hospital bed somewhere, I've got a few things I'd like to clear up—
[The blonde woman frowns deeply at the screen, brows drawn tightly together in displeasure.]
—namely, it's been told to me that we can't leave this place until they've scrounged up enough 'resources' to send us back, which seems oddly convenient. Does anyone know if there's been success with that yet? Has anyone been sent back home, or is that some nebulous 'someday' thing they're telling us? Second of all...
[Her hand comes up to gently cup a small gold locket hanging around her neck; a gift from the city to her, it seemed. Her mouth works for a moment, trying to find the words.]
Trixie, baby, if you can hear me, mommy's here and going to find you. I promise. Just sit tight, monkey.
[The blonde woman frowns deeply at the screen, brows drawn tightly together in displeasure.]
—namely, it's been told to me that we can't leave this place until they've scrounged up enough 'resources' to send us back, which seems oddly convenient. Does anyone know if there's been success with that yet? Has anyone been sent back home, or is that some nebulous 'someday' thing they're telling us? Second of all...
[Her hand comes up to gently cup a small gold locket hanging around her neck; a gift from the city to her, it seemed. Her mouth works for a moment, trying to find the words.]
Trixie, baby, if you can hear me, mommy's here and going to find you. I promise. Just sit tight, monkey.
no subject
Why do you always insist on doing everything in the most complicated way possible. You're leaving me with... bitter options, Detective. Options I'd much rather not take with you. Can't you just... believe me?
no subject
I'm the one who's complicated? [An incredulous huff.] You're the one that skipped town without a single word after I almost died. You're the one that showed up with your stripper wife out of nowhere, and with no explanation might I add, as if everything was completely normal and fine. And that's not even counting all the other things—
[She clenched her jaw, shaking her head as she cut herself off.]
So while I'm so sorry to hear about your 'bitter options', you'll have to excuse me if I'm not feeling a whole lot of sympathy at the moment, Lucifer.
no subject
[Said more out of habit than anything, Lucifer watching her get all... what? Angry? Was she angry with him? But he hadn't even done anything. Yet, anyway. But whatever it was, it seemed to have been pent up, waiting to bubble over. At him.
All the more reason why that tangle of nerves in his stomach twisted just a little more.]
It's... everything is complicated. I had very legitimate reasons for everything I did, but I don't know why you're feeling so... mad? I've done nothing but try to protect you from-
[Him? Yes, well, definitely him. Him and his family. His idiot brother. The other one that kept siding with the Mother that wanted to kill her. His Father... Hell. Where did he start with that one?]
no subject
[Her words were still barbed and laced with irritation. He didn't know why she was mad? Seriously? She knew he could be obtuse, but she'd never considered him to be this dense.]
You keep saying you want to protect me, but how can you expect me to be safe when I don't have all the information? I don't need a protector. I need a partner. Which is what I thought we were, but you've been keeping me out of the loop.
no subject
From me. From my family. From sticky celestial fingers mucking up your life and making you feel things you likely don't want to because He made you. And I don't know why. If it was to thwart me. To end me. To just mess with my head in thinking I could f--
[Biting that off, he looked down at his empty glass, realizing he needed more than that small bit of liquor to get through this. He moved over to where he'd set the bottle down.]
no subject
[And yet, despite her anger at him, she recognized that distress in him. Whatever this was, he deliberately believed it. There was no lie in him. And she wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.]
No one's trying to 'make' me do anything, Lucifer. No one's out to get you. You're okay. I'm okay.
no subject
[Not after what had happened before finding himself here. He'd thought he might be okay. That he might be able to share with her and take those steps forward she and he both seemed to want to. But then he'd been blindsided and woken up... well. He still wasn't entirely sure where.
And that all melted into now. He was still whole. Still had a part of himself back that he shouldn't. Still had no idea who had set that in motion. Still had no idea if that same someone hadn't been brought here as well.]
Someone has done something. I'm just not sure which someone. And if they're here... you might very well not be okay. I don't even know if it extends that far.
no subject
[There was only so much she could do to follow this whole song and dance. Whatever happened obviously disturbed him greatly, and if she were to take a stab in the dark, she'd guess it happened between his phone call and... whatever brought them here.]
Someone's done what, exactly? You can't just drop me in the middle and expect me to know what you're talking about. Start from the beginning. What happened?
no subject
In the beginning, there was Light.
[Then he laughed, something short and bitter as he poured another drink.]
I'd very much like to find whoever gave me a knock and dragged me off before I could talk to you. This would all be so much easier if it had just happened at home.
no subject
[And now she looked at him incredulously, concern quickly replacing her anger as she stood up and went to approach him, as if she planned to search him for injuries.]
This isn't the time for games. Why didn't you tell me someone attacked you? Are you hurt—?
[And now she really was reaching for him, hands moving to touch him while he was turned to his drink.]
no subject
Define 'hurt'. Oh, I'm not as bad off as I was when I got here, Detective, but that's not the worst insult of all.
[No, no... those big, white, feathery appendages made whole on him when he'd already lost them once. That was just a slap in the face. One he was still trying to figure out who'd managed it.]
no subject
[She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat when she heard that almost-sob, a show of emotion she wasn't used to seeing from him. But since he didn't seem to protest her proximity, she let herself reach out and touch him fully now, gently resting a hand against his back.]
Hey. Come on. Talk to me. I want to help.
[And possibly shoot someone, depending on what he said.]
no subject
[He felt her touch him, felt that ache that shivered through him, that desire to turn and just... hold her. He wanted to. Those few stolen moments flit through his head; on the beach, at the court, the soft touch of her hand on his face...]
I don't see how you can help. Not unless you want to cut them off again.
no subject
[Her mind ran through all the possibilities, thinking of conversations and little moments of insight until she finally arrived at the only one that remotely made sense, feeling like she was grasping at an unraveling thread.]
—is this the whole thing about the wings? [A brief shake of her head.] Or the scars on your back?
[And it's then that she realizes where her hand is. Not quite at where his scars would be, but close enough. She keeps it there, not wanting to draw away but not knowing what would help him here.]
no subject
[He put the glass down more heavily than he intended, turning to her with a look that was somewhere between pained and angry.]
I made my choice and someone took that away from me. They gave them back. I can't for the life of me figure out why if not to try to force me back to where they think I belong. It's not bloody happening.
no subject
[She'd seen them. Large and raised, ropey flesh spanning over his back. But then he was looking at her, that anger in his eyes bright like fire.
She reached out to touch his shoulders.]
Calm down. You're not being forced anywhere, besides where we are now.
no subject
[Of course she didn't. She never did. Not about this, anyway. Well, this, he could prove. This he could show her without showing that last piece that he so very much wanted her to never see.
His hands moved to his jacket, unbuttoning it as he started to shrug out of it, tossing it onto the bed when it was off and working on his shirt.]
Yet. Who knows if this isn't just another part of whatever game they're playing? They could just be waiting to whisk me off again -- or you. They should never have brought you here.
no subject
[But that was a dumb question, wasn't it? She knew very well what he was doing. But it still didn't make this any better or clarify all of the questions swirling around in her head right now.
So she watched him, mouth slightly parted in abject incredulity as he disrobed. And maybe concern, too, for his mental stability.]
Look, I don't know what's going on or why we were brought here, but you're starting to worry me now.
no subject
[The shirt comes off and he tosses it aside, standing there with his arms spread as he looks at her -- then realizes where the proof is. Rolling his eyes at himself, he turns his back to her, showing her 'proof'. Or, really, the lack of it, as there were no scars there marring his back anymore.]
See? They've gone and put them back, the bloody twit.
no subject
What—?
[As if to prove she's not in a dream, she reaches for him again, this time not hesitating to touch his back. Her fingers slid along his shoulder blades, gently pressing along where the scars should be. As if checking for some kind of makeup or cover. But there was nothing. Just his flesh, made whole again.]
I don't... I don't understand. How's this possible? They were so— something like that doesn't just disappear.
no subject
Turning slowly, he reached for that outstretched hand, but instead of pulling it away, he kept it there, pressed to him over his chest.]
I told you, Detective. They've been put back. They made me whole again, against my wishes. I... I really wish you'd take that as proof instead of making me do what I'm dreading.
[He could do the other bit of proof, he could spread those white wings wide and let her bask in them -- but he felt that was cheating. That wasn't who he felt he was. Not anymore. That wasn't what he'd been willing to show her before. Showing her just the wings and not the rest of it would be just as much of a lie as not telling her at all.]
no subject
And against all logic, she thought of Amenadiel. Amenadiel, who stood in front of her at Lux and put all the pieces together for her, almost a little too neatly. Amenadiel, who shot himself only to reveal the bulletproof vest underneath. And her own reaction to it all, to be shocked and appalled and yet frighteningly willing, for one brief instant, to maybe believe the unthinkable.
She struggled to speak at first. When she did, her voice was quiet.]
You said you wanted to tell me everything. And I... we can't move forward until you do, Lucifer.
no subject
[He puffed out a breath, hand not letting hers go, pressing it closer to him as he just stared at her and tried to find a way for her to believe it without him needing to take that very last step.]
I need you to understand something, Chloe. I need you to know that I would never harm you. No matter what I may look like, no matter how monstrous I might seem, I would never hurt you.
no subject
[Said quietly, but with full confidence. Because she did — for all his flaws and mistakes, she knew he wasn't a bad person. Or a monster. And perhaps that was the reason why she fought so hard to know him. To have him put that trust in her like she did in him.]
If you really think I don't know that by now, then you're wrong.
no subject
[And knowing what was coming, knowing she might very well panic when she saw it and not wanting to make it worse, he let her hand go. In fact, he moved well away from her, going to stand on the other side of the room, left hand moving to fidget with his ring as he looked over at her. He felt much more nervous now than he had with Linda. As much as Linda meant to him, Chloe meant more. She always would.]
Ah, I don't think there's really any easy way to do this...
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)