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New/Old Profiler Fic: Just Because They Die
As I'd mentioned in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
empty_marrow earlier today, I've been kind of knocking around my old fanfic files which have collected on various diskettes over the past months. Heh, actually, forget that "months" thing, I found this on a disk labelled "Skewed Fics 2001." Yeah, my muse is a fickle bitch who's gotten lots and lots of rest lately.
Anyway, in the midst of the crapfest o'Robinfics, I did find one or two pieces that I thought had the potential to keep my interest up without inducing too much retching (or re-writing, which can be even worse). This is in the "Reunion" universe (erm, ReuniVerse?). It's told primarily from Chloe's and Jack's perspectives, there isn't any romance or sexual content, and Jack isn't exactly a nice guy here. Because it's fun to write him as a sociopathic fuck-up on occasion, y'know? And sorry, it's still a WIP, with probably about seven or eight more chapters to come.
Just Because They Die, Jack/Chloe (nonsexual/nonromantic), PG-13
Synopsis: Jack gets inside Chloe's mind. Chloe returns the favor.
Author's Notes: This story came about as a rebellion against the general let-down of "Reunion.”. When I re-watched the Jack/Chloe "therapy sessions" it struck me that, taken out of Kronishized canon context, these were two characters who had a lot to say to one another. In that vein, this fic picks up where Chloe's first meeting with "Dr. Greene" leaves off....
Disclaimer: Not my toys to play with, or else Jack and Chloe would’ve had this chat awhile ago.
Just because they die, she said, doesn't mean they go away. --- "Permanence,” Brian Andreas
******
-One-
Monday 3:00 PM Session One
"There's nothing wrong with me."
Chloe Waters shifted uncomfortably in the vinyl chair, weaving her fingers together and refusing to meet the gaze of the man seated across from her. He was silent, which she decided was his sign of disapproval after he stayed that way for a full minute.
"I mean, I know it was my mom's idea for me to talk to you. She thinks I'm all messed up and angry about stuff. And so what if I am? Angry, I mean. Because I'm not messed up, I'm fine."
She wound down awkwardly, mentally kicking herself over the magnitude of her lameness. Now he'd think she was a nut case for sure. She raised her eyes to his, expecting to meet the same somber analytical expression that her mother always seemed to be wearing lately, and was surprised to see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"And are you?" he asked. His voice had an unusual timbre, a growly unevenness coursing just below the smooth tones. "Angry, I mean. I don't think you're messed up either."
Chloe opened her mouth, then clamped it shut again. "Why should I tell you?" she responded after another minute of focusing on her fingers. "I know that anything I say to you will go right back to my mother."
The psychologist leaned toward her, resting his elbows on his knees; he had removed his glasses and was playing with the wire frames in much the same way she'd been fidgeting with her hands all afternoon.
"Let's get one thing straight, Chloe," he said in a strangely steely manner that made her glance up at him in surprise. Undiluted by the glasses, the intensity of his brown eyes was startling. "Whatever goes on in these sessions is just between you and me. Why, do you know that it's even against the law for me to tell anyone anything you say, unless you give me permission?" The eyes and voice softened as he settled back in his chair. "That means that here and now, you're entirely safe. You can just be Chloe Waters, and you can say and do and feel anything you want." He flicked his glance away and absently twisted a heavy gold ring on his left hand. "You can be angry with anyone in here -- even your mother."
She flinched before she could stop herself. "How did you -- why do you think I'm angry at her?"
He answered her with another smile. "Oh, it takes years and years of school and studying to get as good as I am," he remarked mildly. "And besides, every time I mention your mother your face and voice totally change. So I'm guessing that you're not too happy with her right now."
She flushed and squirmed miserably in the chair. "I guess not," she mumbled. Just saying the words made the guilt bubble up from deep inside and form a hard lump in her stomach. This was Mom, after all...and she'd already said such horrible things....
The doctor walked over to her chair, where he perched lightly on the arm, close beside her but not touching her. He must be a smoker, she thought; she caught a faint whiff of tobacco from his jacket, along with some light floral scent she couldn't identify. He waited patiently until she looked up at him.
"Chloe, there's nothing wrong with feeling angry," he said gently. "Anger doesn't make you a bad person. Feelings don't do anything, they just are. It doesn't mean you want bad things to happen to your mother – all it means is you’re pissed off." He caught her grin. "Did I just say something funny?"
"I’ve never heard any of my mom’s friends say things like ‘pissed off’ around me, that’s all. They all probably think I’d, like, die of shock or something to hear the evil words."
He laughed at that. “Hey, anyone can spout psychology using big serious phrases. When things are really desperate they send for me and my Evil Words."
She decided that he had a nice laugh and she finally relaxed enough to smile back at him.
"You have a nice smile, Chloe Waters," Dr. Greene observed, and she actually felt herself blushing. "I don't think you've been able to show that smile very much lately, and I think we need to work together to make sure you keep it. Can we do that? Will you let me help you?" He knelt down in front of her and fixed her with his dark eyes again.
Chloe stared at him, unsettled by the frankness in his gaze. It was the first time in ages that someone had focused his full attention on her; it felt foreign, a vaguely guilty pleasure. Her eyes shifted over his shoulders and past his spiky blonde hair to the wall clock.
"Yeah, I guess. But it’s four o’clock. It's time for me to go."
"Do you want to go?" He looked genuinely interested in her answer, almost like he was holding his breath until she said something.
"I don't mean it like that. I sort of didn’t mind talking to you. I just figured that, you know, you probably have another appointment or something...." She trailed off, the mocking little voice inside her head supplying its opinion that of course he’d have something better to do, everyone always did when it came to her.
"No, I don't. I really am here for you, Chloe. We can take all the time you want."
She stared at him for a long minute, absorbing the words with a strange mixture of surprise and sadness. "Thanks, but I really should go anyway. Angel said she'd pick me up at four and I don't want her to worry."
"That's probably a good idea. OK, Chloe, see you tomorrow at three?"
"OK. Thanks, Dr. Greene."
"Eww, 'Dr. Greene.'" She looked back to find him wearing an exaggerated expression of distaste, and she couldn't help laughing out loud. "God, Chloe, you’re making me sound all old and stuffy. Even I don't want to spend time with 'Dr. Greene.'"
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" she giggled.
"You're going to be stuck with me for awhile, so you might as well drop the formalities."
Chloe shook her head; she couldn't believe that her mother actually associated with somebody so...normal and likable. Her eyes slid to the brass nameplate on his door. "Do you want me to call you Bruce?" she asked shyly, feeling somehow disrespectful.
He hesitated. "Y’know, I never did like that name. My friends call me Jay. Tomorrow, then?"
"OK, tomorrow. Bye, Jay."
"Bye, Chloe," Jack whispered to the closing door as a different, colder smile spread across his face.
******
-Two-
A jittery figure hovered at the edge of the kitchen, gazing at her with worry and a blatant curiosity. Chloe kept her eyes fixed firmly on the sandwich in front of her.
Her mother cleared her throat. "So, sweetie, you had your first session with Dr. Greene today."
"Mmm-hmm, I guess."
Another not-so-discreet cough from the edge of the kitchen. Chloe finished cutting the sandwich and turned back toward the refrigerator.
"Chlo...you know, you don't have to tell me anything about what you and Dr. Greene discuss, but if there's anything that you do want to talk about -- the sessions, or anything else that's gone on -- I'm here for you."
The four words sounded awkward and forced compared to the way Jay had uttered them, but they were full of sincerity. Chloe finally met her mother's eyes and flushed with guilt at the love and concern she saw there. If Jay were right and feelings couldn't hurt you, why did she feel like crap right now? Images rushed back in from the edge of her memory, snippets of all the horrors of last week. She remembered the phone call, the tightness in Angel's face when she gave her the news, the way Bailey hadn't quite been able to look at her when he told her of course, sweetie, everything was going to be all right, they'd see to it that her mom came home....And she'd wanted to believe it, even though she was already wondering what it would be like to not really belong to anyone anymore. Maybe it really was time to talk about all those feelings. She took a deep breath.
"Well, I -- "
Her mother's pager went off. Chloe's expression closed in on itself.
"They want you." She sighed and turned away again.
"Then they'll just have to wait, won't they? You come first." Her mother reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. As if on cue, the phone began to ring.
Chloe smiled bitterly. "It's OK, Mom. They must really need you." Breaking free of her mother's grasp, she headed upstairs toward her bedroom. She paused at the top of the stairwell, holding her breath and hoping for the following footsteps to prove that just once, just maybe she did come first.
Instead she caught half a conversation. "Hey, Bailey...oh, I've been better. Yeah, Angel's here, I can meet you at the office in fifteen minutes. Let me pull that file and check, OK?"
Chloe quietly closed the door of her room and sat on the bed in the dark. She didn't feel like eating anymore, she didn't care about her homework, and there was no real reason to illuminate anything in her life right now anyway. She hoped Angel wouldn't be up here trying to get her to express her feelings like she'd been doing all last week. She loved Angel and she sort of liked having the old living situation back until the case was solved, but right now she didn't feel like talking to anyone.
Downstairs the soft thud of the front door announced that her mother was heading off to work again, accompanied by one of the two agents that had been guarding the house since the kidnapping. No doubt she spent more time talking to them every day than to her own daughter. Well, hell, she probably spent more time talking to Jack, when it came right down to it....
The tight little ball of guilt and anger danced in her stomach again. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she noticed the worn blonde head of her old baby doll shining dimly from the top of the dresser. Baby Waters had been relocated from her previous spot of honor on the bed ever since Chloe had turned eleven; somehow it hadn't seemed very mature at the time to be sleeping next to an old doll. But tonight she needed a friend and she didn't think maturity was all it was cracked up to be anyway.
Her father had given her Baby Waters on her first birthday. She really didn't remember it, but she'd seen photographs from the party they'd thrown for her. Her father was laughing, holding her in the crook of one arm and the doll in the other - at that time they'd been about the same size. Her grandparents had given her a handsome wooden picture frame for Christmas a couple years ago and she'd wanted to put that photo in it, stand it up beside Baby Waters and have another little piece of her father to keep with her. But tears had crept into the corners of her mother's eyes as soon as she'd mentioned it, and Chloe had told her never mind, her fourth grade class photo would actually look much better in the frame. And neither one of them ever mentioned it again.
She hugged Baby Waters tightly against her chest and crept under the covers. Eyes closed, she tried to summon up all the old feelings of love and security and optimism that she'd associated with her father's present for the last ten years. But it was just a plastic doll after all, and she just felt empty, as though even her comfortable old memories had abandoned her along with everyone else.
******
-Three-
Tuesday 3:00 PM Session Two
"And that's it. She just left, didn't say good-bye or anything."
Jay was playing with his ring again, twisting it around and around. "And how did that make you feel, Chloe?"
She sighed and tucked her knees up under her chin. "Angry."
He fixed her with his no-nonsense stare. "Uh-uh. You know you're not getting off that easily."
She frowned, staring at the ceiling in concentration. "OK, frustrated because I sort of wanted to talk to her. And just -- tired, I guess." Jay cocked an eyebrow questioningly and she went with the thought. "I mean, I'm tired of the whole game. It's like her whole entire pattern, she acts all concerned and stuff, and I finally decide to talk to her. And then there's always some crisis. She gets paged or called or Bailey shows up at the door. There's always something more important."
Jay propped his chin on his hand. "Well, she does have a pretty big job, after all. She helps hunt down the bad guys, right? I'm sure whatever it was had to be pretty important to tear her away right at that moment."
"Yeah, but it's always that way with her. It's not like she's the only person in the whole FBI either, you'd think that once in awhile she could take some time out for her own daughter."
The odd half-smile was tugging at his lips again as he stood up and walked away from her toward the window. "I don't know, Chloe. Your mother's job is awfully crucial to be interrupted by the complaints of an eleven-year-old. And her paycheck from those long hours helps buy you CDs and pizzas and all those pretty clothes. Is it possible that you're being a bit unreasonable?"
Her head snapped up at his words. "I'm unreasonable? Who the hell are you supposed to be helping here, anyway? The job was her choice, not mine, but I'm affected by it every day! I live in a jail, I have guards! And I wouldn't care if she never bought me stuff ever again, I'd rather have a real mother who actually spends time with me." She stopped abruptly and clapped a hand over her mouth in shock as the heat washed over her face in waves. "Ohmigod, Jay, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say those things to you."
Jay turned back toward her and she saw the satisfied smile beaming from his face. "I know you didn't. But you did say them, didn't you? And -- surprise! -- nothing bad happened to either one of us." He smoothed the front of his sweater and sat beside her again.
She stared at him in amazement. "You wantedto make me angry, didn't you? You wanted me to yell at you."
He inclined his head slightly. "I knew you were smart, most people don't catch onto that trick right away. Yes, I wanted you to say the first thing that came to your mind, before Good Girl Chloe stepped in and told you to pretend everything was all right. Because it's not all right, Chloe, and you're not being unreasonable."
"Really? You don't think so?" She searched his eyes for any signs of disapproval. "Then why does it feel so bad when I say those things?" She placed a hand over her stomach, where the guilt ball was steadily bouncing away.
"It feels bad because you're letting Good Chloe take over." Jay tucked his knees up under his chin as she'd done and gazed steadily at her. The steely undercurrent had returned to his words. "Good Chloe is the proper little girl who never says or does anything bad. She never hurts anyone's feelings, even if she has good reason to. And she always believes everything her mother tells her, even if deep in her heart she suspects that some of what she hears isn't the truth. You'd like to have a mother who spends more time with you, wouldn't you?"
Caught in the depths of his dark stare, she nodded wordlessly.
"Other girls at school have mothers that volunteer at conferences and bake sales. And in the malls they're all over the place, mothers and daughters just hanging out, having fun. You'd like to do those things with your mother too, right?"
Another half-nod.
"And yet your mother isn't there for you. Why do you think that is, Chloe?”
“We already talked about it, her job is –“
“Mm, the job.” Jay half-frowned as he said the last word. “Well, she does have a busy, important job, yes. But you've wondered sometimes, haven't you, Chloe? You can tell me – haven’t you been afraid that the real reason she spends more time at work isn't because she's after some bad man, that it's actually to get away from you? That you must have done something awful, something you don't even remember doing, for her to want to avoid you so much?"
Her lower lip began to tremble as she nodded again.
"That's when it really starts to hurt, right? Deep inside you, late at night, when you toss and turn and wonder what you possibly could have done to deserve this? Don't you want to know what you did, Chloe? Don't you want the truth at last?"
"Yes," Chloe whispered and then burst into tears. He pressed a handkerchief to her cheek and she found herself suddenly leaning into his shoulder, sobbing against the soft fabric of his sweater as though her heart would break. Jay continued to dry her tears as they fell, gently patting her back until she was able to calm herself enough to quiet her sobs. She breathed in the smoky floral scent of his skin as he bent his head close to her; he was near enough for his breath to tickle her ear as he spoke.
"It's nothing, Chloe," he whispered. "That's the whole truth -- you've done nothing to deserve any of this. You're an innocent bystander. Your mother may tell you that things are going to change, that any day now everything will be different and better, but it's not true. That's because everything she does is her choice, even if she doesn't know it herself -- it's just who she is, it’s in her nature. And you can never change a person's true nature -- trust me on that point." He grinned wryly and broke gently away from her as he dried the final tears from her cheeks. "That's why I want you to forget all about Good Chloe. She exists only to give comfort to the adults in your life, the ones who'd rather not be confronted with the fact that they've disappointed and abandoned you. Good Chloe wants you to feel that big ball of guilt, she wants you to think it's all your fault. But none of this is your fault, is it, Chloe?"
"No?" She tested the word gingerly.
“You can do better than that, Chloe.”
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “No. It’s not my fault.”
"Smart girl. Now, I want you to toss Good Chloe away. Tell her you don't need her lies anymore and show her the door. Because it's not wrong to be angry, is it, Chloe? It's not wrong to admit that you're disappointed in your mother for not being there for you. And it's not wrong to just be good to yourself for a change."
His eyes burned into her as he spoke the words, and she felt his indignation; he was angry for her. A swell of gratitude and affection rose in her chest.
"I'm not sure I know how to do that -- I mean, to just say those things and think of myself," she admitted.
He covered her hand with his, and the warmth of his skin seared into her, something real and tangible and steeped in the moment that gave her hope.
"I know, Chloe," he whispered with an encouraging smile. "But you'll learn exactly how to do it. That's why you're here."
The wall clock chimed the four o'clock hour. Chloe stood automatically, then realized what she'd done and grinned in response to Jay's knowing chuckle.
"I know, I should tell Good Chloe to chill out, that Angel can wait a couple more minutes. It's just...hard to change all at once."
Jay smiled. "I never said it would be easy. That's why you're going to be stuck with me for a few more sessions."
"I can deal with that, you’re actually kind of cool. Even if I should be mad at you ‘cause you made me cry like a dumb little kid."
She could swear that he looked a little guilty. “Yeah, well. Sorry about that part.” He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously, causing a few blonde spikes to stick out at an odd angle. “But sometimes, you know, you can learn the most about yourself when you’re forced to stop thinking and just go with your gut. I think it worked pretty well today, don’t you?”
“Yeah, except for that gut thing sounding kind of gross.” He groaned into his hands and she giggled.
“OK, I guess I deserved that.” Jay sighed as he slumped back onto the sofa. “C’mon, I helped you a little bit today, though, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, it was actually kinda good. Although I was disappointed that you didn’t use any of your Evil Words today.” She wondered briefly if she were crossing the line in actually teasing an adult, but Jay just grinned gamely.
“Hey, I have other very important skills that I have to use once in awhile. Otherwise they get all rusty. All right, kiddo, Good Chloe has been held back long enough for the day – I’ll let you escape from me now.”
“OK, see you tomorrow then.” She paused at the doorway, trying to figure out how to say the next words as intelligently as possible. “Um, thanks for, you know – sticking up for me. With what you said, I mean.”
“Why, of course, Chloe. Why wouldn’t I stick up for you?”
“It’s just that – you’re really different from all the other grown-ups I’m around. You listen to me and you tell me the truth. And—“ she hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. “Jay, you were like me, weren’t you?”
He stopped in mid-twist of the ring, head snapping up as he stared at her. "What do you mean?" he asked in an odd tone.
"I mean...when you were a kid, you felt alone and all wrong, didn't you? You missed your parents just like me. And you – you’d cried like that too.”
"How could you kn--" Jay bit back the last word with a half-cough. “Why would you say that, Chloe?” His voice had roughened and his eyes had darkened almost to black; for a moment it was as though a mask had shattered and she was looking into the face of a completely different man. Suddenly frightened, she pressed back against the office door.
“I just sort of knew you were like that, I could…y-your voice just felt like that. I’m sorry, Jay, I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.”
"No." The unfamiliar man had vanished behind Jay’s personable face. "It’s OK, you didn't upset me, you just -- surprised me. No one has ever said....You surprised me, that's all." He stared at his left hand as he twisted the gold ring.
She glanced uneasily at the wall clock. "Well, I should go before Angel comes looking for me. Um, Jay -- I'm not sure who's supposed to take the place of Good Chloe. I mean, you don't want me to become Bad Chloe, right?"
He smiled, still a bit distractedly. "No, I want you to become just plain Chloe."
"But how do I know who just plain Chloe is?"
"Oh, it'll take awhile, but you'll know her when you meet her. We can't fight our true natures, remember? I think you'll find that just plain Chloe is a very special young lady."
She was suddenly aware of an odd sensation, or more specifically the lack of one; at some point over the last hour, the guilt ball had stopped bouncing in her stomach for the first time in weeks. The smile on her face was genuine as she walked away from the office, whose remaining occupant sat motionless and stared at the closed door until the sun went down and the shadows painted him black.
******
If anyone out there in LJ-land even still reads Profiler fic these days, I'd love your opinions on Chloe's voice and the interactions in the "sessions" - it's obviously a big ol' sign of aging that I'm rather uncertain about how to talk like an eleven-year-old. Pfft, kids these days.... *G*
empty_marrow earlier today, I've been kind of knocking around my old fanfic files which have collected on various diskettes over the past months. Heh, actually, forget that "months" thing, I found this on a disk labelled "Skewed Fics 2001." Yeah, my muse is a fickle bitch who's gotten lots and lots of rest lately.Anyway, in the midst of the crapfest o'Robinfics, I did find one or two pieces that I thought had the potential to keep my interest up without inducing too much retching (or re-writing, which can be even worse). This is in the "Reunion" universe (erm, ReuniVerse?). It's told primarily from Chloe's and Jack's perspectives, there isn't any romance or sexual content, and Jack isn't exactly a nice guy here. Because it's fun to write him as a sociopathic fuck-up on occasion, y'know? And sorry, it's still a WIP, with probably about seven or eight more chapters to come.
Just Because They Die, Jack/Chloe (nonsexual/nonromantic), PG-13
Synopsis: Jack gets inside Chloe's mind. Chloe returns the favor.
Author's Notes: This story came about as a rebellion against the general let-down of "Reunion.”. When I re-watched the Jack/Chloe "therapy sessions" it struck me that, taken out of Kronishized canon context, these were two characters who had a lot to say to one another. In that vein, this fic picks up where Chloe's first meeting with "Dr. Greene" leaves off....
Disclaimer: Not my toys to play with, or else Jack and Chloe would’ve had this chat awhile ago.
Just because they die, she said, doesn't mean they go away. --- "Permanence,” Brian Andreas
******
-One-
Monday 3:00 PM Session One
"There's nothing wrong with me."
Chloe Waters shifted uncomfortably in the vinyl chair, weaving her fingers together and refusing to meet the gaze of the man seated across from her. He was silent, which she decided was his sign of disapproval after he stayed that way for a full minute.
"I mean, I know it was my mom's idea for me to talk to you. She thinks I'm all messed up and angry about stuff. And so what if I am? Angry, I mean. Because I'm not messed up, I'm fine."
She wound down awkwardly, mentally kicking herself over the magnitude of her lameness. Now he'd think she was a nut case for sure. She raised her eyes to his, expecting to meet the same somber analytical expression that her mother always seemed to be wearing lately, and was surprised to see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"And are you?" he asked. His voice had an unusual timbre, a growly unevenness coursing just below the smooth tones. "Angry, I mean. I don't think you're messed up either."
Chloe opened her mouth, then clamped it shut again. "Why should I tell you?" she responded after another minute of focusing on her fingers. "I know that anything I say to you will go right back to my mother."
The psychologist leaned toward her, resting his elbows on his knees; he had removed his glasses and was playing with the wire frames in much the same way she'd been fidgeting with her hands all afternoon.
"Let's get one thing straight, Chloe," he said in a strangely steely manner that made her glance up at him in surprise. Undiluted by the glasses, the intensity of his brown eyes was startling. "Whatever goes on in these sessions is just between you and me. Why, do you know that it's even against the law for me to tell anyone anything you say, unless you give me permission?" The eyes and voice softened as he settled back in his chair. "That means that here and now, you're entirely safe. You can just be Chloe Waters, and you can say and do and feel anything you want." He flicked his glance away and absently twisted a heavy gold ring on his left hand. "You can be angry with anyone in here -- even your mother."
She flinched before she could stop herself. "How did you -- why do you think I'm angry at her?"
He answered her with another smile. "Oh, it takes years and years of school and studying to get as good as I am," he remarked mildly. "And besides, every time I mention your mother your face and voice totally change. So I'm guessing that you're not too happy with her right now."
She flushed and squirmed miserably in the chair. "I guess not," she mumbled. Just saying the words made the guilt bubble up from deep inside and form a hard lump in her stomach. This was Mom, after all...and she'd already said such horrible things....
The doctor walked over to her chair, where he perched lightly on the arm, close beside her but not touching her. He must be a smoker, she thought; she caught a faint whiff of tobacco from his jacket, along with some light floral scent she couldn't identify. He waited patiently until she looked up at him.
"Chloe, there's nothing wrong with feeling angry," he said gently. "Anger doesn't make you a bad person. Feelings don't do anything, they just are. It doesn't mean you want bad things to happen to your mother – all it means is you’re pissed off." He caught her grin. "Did I just say something funny?"
"I’ve never heard any of my mom’s friends say things like ‘pissed off’ around me, that’s all. They all probably think I’d, like, die of shock or something to hear the evil words."
He laughed at that. “Hey, anyone can spout psychology using big serious phrases. When things are really desperate they send for me and my Evil Words."
She decided that he had a nice laugh and she finally relaxed enough to smile back at him.
"You have a nice smile, Chloe Waters," Dr. Greene observed, and she actually felt herself blushing. "I don't think you've been able to show that smile very much lately, and I think we need to work together to make sure you keep it. Can we do that? Will you let me help you?" He knelt down in front of her and fixed her with his dark eyes again.
Chloe stared at him, unsettled by the frankness in his gaze. It was the first time in ages that someone had focused his full attention on her; it felt foreign, a vaguely guilty pleasure. Her eyes shifted over his shoulders and past his spiky blonde hair to the wall clock.
"Yeah, I guess. But it’s four o’clock. It's time for me to go."
"Do you want to go?" He looked genuinely interested in her answer, almost like he was holding his breath until she said something.
"I don't mean it like that. I sort of didn’t mind talking to you. I just figured that, you know, you probably have another appointment or something...." She trailed off, the mocking little voice inside her head supplying its opinion that of course he’d have something better to do, everyone always did when it came to her.
"No, I don't. I really am here for you, Chloe. We can take all the time you want."
She stared at him for a long minute, absorbing the words with a strange mixture of surprise and sadness. "Thanks, but I really should go anyway. Angel said she'd pick me up at four and I don't want her to worry."
"That's probably a good idea. OK, Chloe, see you tomorrow at three?"
"OK. Thanks, Dr. Greene."
"Eww, 'Dr. Greene.'" She looked back to find him wearing an exaggerated expression of distaste, and she couldn't help laughing out loud. "God, Chloe, you’re making me sound all old and stuffy. Even I don't want to spend time with 'Dr. Greene.'"
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" she giggled.
"You're going to be stuck with me for awhile, so you might as well drop the formalities."
Chloe shook her head; she couldn't believe that her mother actually associated with somebody so...normal and likable. Her eyes slid to the brass nameplate on his door. "Do you want me to call you Bruce?" she asked shyly, feeling somehow disrespectful.
He hesitated. "Y’know, I never did like that name. My friends call me Jay. Tomorrow, then?"
"OK, tomorrow. Bye, Jay."
"Bye, Chloe," Jack whispered to the closing door as a different, colder smile spread across his face.
******
-Two-
A jittery figure hovered at the edge of the kitchen, gazing at her with worry and a blatant curiosity. Chloe kept her eyes fixed firmly on the sandwich in front of her.
Her mother cleared her throat. "So, sweetie, you had your first session with Dr. Greene today."
"Mmm-hmm, I guess."
Another not-so-discreet cough from the edge of the kitchen. Chloe finished cutting the sandwich and turned back toward the refrigerator.
"Chlo...you know, you don't have to tell me anything about what you and Dr. Greene discuss, but if there's anything that you do want to talk about -- the sessions, or anything else that's gone on -- I'm here for you."
The four words sounded awkward and forced compared to the way Jay had uttered them, but they were full of sincerity. Chloe finally met her mother's eyes and flushed with guilt at the love and concern she saw there. If Jay were right and feelings couldn't hurt you, why did she feel like crap right now? Images rushed back in from the edge of her memory, snippets of all the horrors of last week. She remembered the phone call, the tightness in Angel's face when she gave her the news, the way Bailey hadn't quite been able to look at her when he told her of course, sweetie, everything was going to be all right, they'd see to it that her mom came home....And she'd wanted to believe it, even though she was already wondering what it would be like to not really belong to anyone anymore. Maybe it really was time to talk about all those feelings. She took a deep breath.
"Well, I -- "
Her mother's pager went off. Chloe's expression closed in on itself.
"They want you." She sighed and turned away again.
"Then they'll just have to wait, won't they? You come first." Her mother reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. As if on cue, the phone began to ring.
Chloe smiled bitterly. "It's OK, Mom. They must really need you." Breaking free of her mother's grasp, she headed upstairs toward her bedroom. She paused at the top of the stairwell, holding her breath and hoping for the following footsteps to prove that just once, just maybe she did come first.
Instead she caught half a conversation. "Hey, Bailey...oh, I've been better. Yeah, Angel's here, I can meet you at the office in fifteen minutes. Let me pull that file and check, OK?"
Chloe quietly closed the door of her room and sat on the bed in the dark. She didn't feel like eating anymore, she didn't care about her homework, and there was no real reason to illuminate anything in her life right now anyway. She hoped Angel wouldn't be up here trying to get her to express her feelings like she'd been doing all last week. She loved Angel and she sort of liked having the old living situation back until the case was solved, but right now she didn't feel like talking to anyone.
Downstairs the soft thud of the front door announced that her mother was heading off to work again, accompanied by one of the two agents that had been guarding the house since the kidnapping. No doubt she spent more time talking to them every day than to her own daughter. Well, hell, she probably spent more time talking to Jack, when it came right down to it....
The tight little ball of guilt and anger danced in her stomach again. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she noticed the worn blonde head of her old baby doll shining dimly from the top of the dresser. Baby Waters had been relocated from her previous spot of honor on the bed ever since Chloe had turned eleven; somehow it hadn't seemed very mature at the time to be sleeping next to an old doll. But tonight she needed a friend and she didn't think maturity was all it was cracked up to be anyway.
Her father had given her Baby Waters on her first birthday. She really didn't remember it, but she'd seen photographs from the party they'd thrown for her. Her father was laughing, holding her in the crook of one arm and the doll in the other - at that time they'd been about the same size. Her grandparents had given her a handsome wooden picture frame for Christmas a couple years ago and she'd wanted to put that photo in it, stand it up beside Baby Waters and have another little piece of her father to keep with her. But tears had crept into the corners of her mother's eyes as soon as she'd mentioned it, and Chloe had told her never mind, her fourth grade class photo would actually look much better in the frame. And neither one of them ever mentioned it again.
She hugged Baby Waters tightly against her chest and crept under the covers. Eyes closed, she tried to summon up all the old feelings of love and security and optimism that she'd associated with her father's present for the last ten years. But it was just a plastic doll after all, and she just felt empty, as though even her comfortable old memories had abandoned her along with everyone else.
******
-Three-
Tuesday 3:00 PM Session Two
"And that's it. She just left, didn't say good-bye or anything."
Jay was playing with his ring again, twisting it around and around. "And how did that make you feel, Chloe?"
She sighed and tucked her knees up under her chin. "Angry."
He fixed her with his no-nonsense stare. "Uh-uh. You know you're not getting off that easily."
She frowned, staring at the ceiling in concentration. "OK, frustrated because I sort of wanted to talk to her. And just -- tired, I guess." Jay cocked an eyebrow questioningly and she went with the thought. "I mean, I'm tired of the whole game. It's like her whole entire pattern, she acts all concerned and stuff, and I finally decide to talk to her. And then there's always some crisis. She gets paged or called or Bailey shows up at the door. There's always something more important."
Jay propped his chin on his hand. "Well, she does have a pretty big job, after all. She helps hunt down the bad guys, right? I'm sure whatever it was had to be pretty important to tear her away right at that moment."
"Yeah, but it's always that way with her. It's not like she's the only person in the whole FBI either, you'd think that once in awhile she could take some time out for her own daughter."
The odd half-smile was tugging at his lips again as he stood up and walked away from her toward the window. "I don't know, Chloe. Your mother's job is awfully crucial to be interrupted by the complaints of an eleven-year-old. And her paycheck from those long hours helps buy you CDs and pizzas and all those pretty clothes. Is it possible that you're being a bit unreasonable?"
Her head snapped up at his words. "I'm unreasonable? Who the hell are you supposed to be helping here, anyway? The job was her choice, not mine, but I'm affected by it every day! I live in a jail, I have guards! And I wouldn't care if she never bought me stuff ever again, I'd rather have a real mother who actually spends time with me." She stopped abruptly and clapped a hand over her mouth in shock as the heat washed over her face in waves. "Ohmigod, Jay, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say those things to you."
Jay turned back toward her and she saw the satisfied smile beaming from his face. "I know you didn't. But you did say them, didn't you? And -- surprise! -- nothing bad happened to either one of us." He smoothed the front of his sweater and sat beside her again.
She stared at him in amazement. "You wantedto make me angry, didn't you? You wanted me to yell at you."
He inclined his head slightly. "I knew you were smart, most people don't catch onto that trick right away. Yes, I wanted you to say the first thing that came to your mind, before Good Girl Chloe stepped in and told you to pretend everything was all right. Because it's not all right, Chloe, and you're not being unreasonable."
"Really? You don't think so?" She searched his eyes for any signs of disapproval. "Then why does it feel so bad when I say those things?" She placed a hand over her stomach, where the guilt ball was steadily bouncing away.
"It feels bad because you're letting Good Chloe take over." Jay tucked his knees up under his chin as she'd done and gazed steadily at her. The steely undercurrent had returned to his words. "Good Chloe is the proper little girl who never says or does anything bad. She never hurts anyone's feelings, even if she has good reason to. And she always believes everything her mother tells her, even if deep in her heart she suspects that some of what she hears isn't the truth. You'd like to have a mother who spends more time with you, wouldn't you?"
Caught in the depths of his dark stare, she nodded wordlessly.
"Other girls at school have mothers that volunteer at conferences and bake sales. And in the malls they're all over the place, mothers and daughters just hanging out, having fun. You'd like to do those things with your mother too, right?"
Another half-nod.
"And yet your mother isn't there for you. Why do you think that is, Chloe?”
“We already talked about it, her job is –“
“Mm, the job.” Jay half-frowned as he said the last word. “Well, she does have a busy, important job, yes. But you've wondered sometimes, haven't you, Chloe? You can tell me – haven’t you been afraid that the real reason she spends more time at work isn't because she's after some bad man, that it's actually to get away from you? That you must have done something awful, something you don't even remember doing, for her to want to avoid you so much?"
Her lower lip began to tremble as she nodded again.
"That's when it really starts to hurt, right? Deep inside you, late at night, when you toss and turn and wonder what you possibly could have done to deserve this? Don't you want to know what you did, Chloe? Don't you want the truth at last?"
"Yes," Chloe whispered and then burst into tears. He pressed a handkerchief to her cheek and she found herself suddenly leaning into his shoulder, sobbing against the soft fabric of his sweater as though her heart would break. Jay continued to dry her tears as they fell, gently patting her back until she was able to calm herself enough to quiet her sobs. She breathed in the smoky floral scent of his skin as he bent his head close to her; he was near enough for his breath to tickle her ear as he spoke.
"It's nothing, Chloe," he whispered. "That's the whole truth -- you've done nothing to deserve any of this. You're an innocent bystander. Your mother may tell you that things are going to change, that any day now everything will be different and better, but it's not true. That's because everything she does is her choice, even if she doesn't know it herself -- it's just who she is, it’s in her nature. And you can never change a person's true nature -- trust me on that point." He grinned wryly and broke gently away from her as he dried the final tears from her cheeks. "That's why I want you to forget all about Good Chloe. She exists only to give comfort to the adults in your life, the ones who'd rather not be confronted with the fact that they've disappointed and abandoned you. Good Chloe wants you to feel that big ball of guilt, she wants you to think it's all your fault. But none of this is your fault, is it, Chloe?"
"No?" She tested the word gingerly.
“You can do better than that, Chloe.”
She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “No. It’s not my fault.”
"Smart girl. Now, I want you to toss Good Chloe away. Tell her you don't need her lies anymore and show her the door. Because it's not wrong to be angry, is it, Chloe? It's not wrong to admit that you're disappointed in your mother for not being there for you. And it's not wrong to just be good to yourself for a change."
His eyes burned into her as he spoke the words, and she felt his indignation; he was angry for her. A swell of gratitude and affection rose in her chest.
"I'm not sure I know how to do that -- I mean, to just say those things and think of myself," she admitted.
He covered her hand with his, and the warmth of his skin seared into her, something real and tangible and steeped in the moment that gave her hope.
"I know, Chloe," he whispered with an encouraging smile. "But you'll learn exactly how to do it. That's why you're here."
The wall clock chimed the four o'clock hour. Chloe stood automatically, then realized what she'd done and grinned in response to Jay's knowing chuckle.
"I know, I should tell Good Chloe to chill out, that Angel can wait a couple more minutes. It's just...hard to change all at once."
Jay smiled. "I never said it would be easy. That's why you're going to be stuck with me for a few more sessions."
"I can deal with that, you’re actually kind of cool. Even if I should be mad at you ‘cause you made me cry like a dumb little kid."
She could swear that he looked a little guilty. “Yeah, well. Sorry about that part.” He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously, causing a few blonde spikes to stick out at an odd angle. “But sometimes, you know, you can learn the most about yourself when you’re forced to stop thinking and just go with your gut. I think it worked pretty well today, don’t you?”
“Yeah, except for that gut thing sounding kind of gross.” He groaned into his hands and she giggled.
“OK, I guess I deserved that.” Jay sighed as he slumped back onto the sofa. “C’mon, I helped you a little bit today, though, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, it was actually kinda good. Although I was disappointed that you didn’t use any of your Evil Words today.” She wondered briefly if she were crossing the line in actually teasing an adult, but Jay just grinned gamely.
“Hey, I have other very important skills that I have to use once in awhile. Otherwise they get all rusty. All right, kiddo, Good Chloe has been held back long enough for the day – I’ll let you escape from me now.”
“OK, see you tomorrow then.” She paused at the doorway, trying to figure out how to say the next words as intelligently as possible. “Um, thanks for, you know – sticking up for me. With what you said, I mean.”
“Why, of course, Chloe. Why wouldn’t I stick up for you?”
“It’s just that – you’re really different from all the other grown-ups I’m around. You listen to me and you tell me the truth. And—“ she hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. “Jay, you were like me, weren’t you?”
He stopped in mid-twist of the ring, head snapping up as he stared at her. "What do you mean?" he asked in an odd tone.
"I mean...when you were a kid, you felt alone and all wrong, didn't you? You missed your parents just like me. And you – you’d cried like that too.”
"How could you kn--" Jay bit back the last word with a half-cough. “Why would you say that, Chloe?” His voice had roughened and his eyes had darkened almost to black; for a moment it was as though a mask had shattered and she was looking into the face of a completely different man. Suddenly frightened, she pressed back against the office door.
“I just sort of knew you were like that, I could…y-your voice just felt like that. I’m sorry, Jay, I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.”
"No." The unfamiliar man had vanished behind Jay’s personable face. "It’s OK, you didn't upset me, you just -- surprised me. No one has ever said....You surprised me, that's all." He stared at his left hand as he twisted the gold ring.
She glanced uneasily at the wall clock. "Well, I should go before Angel comes looking for me. Um, Jay -- I'm not sure who's supposed to take the place of Good Chloe. I mean, you don't want me to become Bad Chloe, right?"
He smiled, still a bit distractedly. "No, I want you to become just plain Chloe."
"But how do I know who just plain Chloe is?"
"Oh, it'll take awhile, but you'll know her when you meet her. We can't fight our true natures, remember? I think you'll find that just plain Chloe is a very special young lady."
She was suddenly aware of an odd sensation, or more specifically the lack of one; at some point over the last hour, the guilt ball had stopped bouncing in her stomach for the first time in weeks. The smile on her face was genuine as she walked away from the office, whose remaining occupant sat motionless and stared at the closed door until the sun went down and the shadows painted him black.
******
If anyone out there in LJ-land even still reads Profiler fic these days, I'd love your opinions on Chloe's voice and the interactions in the "sessions" - it's obviously a big ol' sign of aging that I'm rather uncertain about how to talk like an eleven-year-old. Pfft, kids these days.... *G*