Élodie's Home

[Chris]

Had that actually come to pass and it had reached Chris’ ears, there would have been several uniformed officers receiving a stern lecture from him as soon as humanly possible after his finding out. He took his job seriously, and he expected everyone else on the Force to do the same; his father had given his life while wearing a uniform, died doing what he believed in, and to see other men wasting it away, lounging around and ignoring calls because they might not come with the desired adrenaline kick? It honestly made Chris feel disgusted and ashamed. Some of the people who wore a badge today weren’t fit to clean the station, let alone work there as officers.

Chris kept his right hand — and therefore his arm — down near Élodie; if the desire to grab onto him for support or reassurance came over her, he was right there, and wasn’t going anywhere, just as promised. He listened to her breathing as he unclipped his cell phone from his belt, scanning their surroundings almost constantly now, doing full sweeps with his eyes and, when he wasn’t checking on his friend’s progress when it came to her near-hyperventilating, his ears as well. “I know,” he said to her as softly as he could with his tension riding as high and thick as it was, his phone flicked open with his left hand, thumb nudging the buttons to find the number he needed. As he put the cell to his ear, he crouched enough so that Élodie could see his face. “You won’t have to, all right? I won’t let that happen.”

[Elle]

There were always bad apples in Elle’s experience, no matter what profession you looked into there was someone in it for the wrong reasons, or someone who had been manipulated into a bad position, always. Human nature tended to beget things like that, which wasn’t a reassuring thought, but she felt that she had at least managed through being aware of such things to surround herself with only the best sorts of people, those like Chris and her other friends. People she could trust and hopeful who trusted her.

Élodie managed to raise those puffy and now slightly bloodshot eyes to Chris as he spoke to her and put the cell to his ear, and she nodded, forcing another slow and steady breath to pass through her. “I believe you,” she said breathily, meaning all three words eve as she was still struggling for oxygen. At least getting there now, her heart rate was steadying and with that the dizziness was subsiding. Still she propped an elbow on her knee and caught her forehead in her own palm, the motion one of sheer exhaustion already, accented with the passing of a cleansing rush of air through her lips as she did so, and taking his hand for the support it stood for.

[Chris]

Sad but true. It was very likely those bad apples had been around even when Duncan Tyler had been a member of the Force. God knew Chris had thought about it enough in his earlier years, in his confused youth after the loss of his father, when he had wondered, cynically, bitterly, if maybe one of the other cops had done something wrong, or just not done something that ought to have been done. Could something have been done by one of those lacking men, and had it been done, would Chris’ father have survived that day? Would he still be alive today? There was no way of knowing, and Chris knew it didn’t help anyone to speculate like that, least of all him.

He nodded at her statement, believing it and feeling the conviction in the words, appreciating them. Briefly he had to take his attention from her to respond to the dispatcher, giving the woman his name and badge number, able to recite everything from memory without faltering once. His eyes swept the interior of the house again as he ran through the situation for the individual on the other end of the line who was already typing on a keyboard; he could hear the soft clack of the keys in the background of the call. After saying everything that needed to be said, as smoothly and almost automatically as if it was being recited from a prompter or a script of some kind, he snapped the phone shut and slotted it back on his belt without even needing to watch what he was doing, eyes finding Élodie’s face again, his hand giving hers a reassuring squeeze. “Okay, there’s a unit on the way. They’ll be here in five to ten minutes. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. You’re safe. I’ll take care of everything, all right?”

[Elle]

There were certainly enough bad apples in her profession; the architectural world, the television world and the publishing world were full of people looking out for only themselves, or outright cutting other people down and out of their way, Élodie even had a short list of so-called rivals for various reasons and though it didn’t cross her mind in the moment -- her thought processes being too bogged down in the idea that her stalker had returned to haunt her -- later she would wonder if one of them hadn’t done this on purpose. It was a sick idea, but who knew? People did crazier things.

As he talked into his phone she sat still and silent, listening to his voice but not really the words he was using, just the fact that he was making noise, it was reassuring because silence would have felt crushing in that moment. When his tone changed from that which he had used on the cell phone to the one he addressed her with, the blonde moved her hands, swiping it down her pale face. “Thank you,” she said dryly, her moth finding it hard to work around the words, but she forced them out because they were important. “I really mean it, Chris. Thanks.” There she took another shuddering breath, forcing the shock away as best she could, though it stubbornly clung to her, starting to set off tremors though her lean shoulders as she sat in what she had suddenly decided was the worst chair she had ever bought in her life.

[Chris]

‘Dirty cops’. That was what they called them in Chris’ line of work. And unfortunately, there was always going to be a small handful of them at any station. It was why people like Captain Stanley Vinson and his team at Force Investigation existed; it was a shame they were even needed, but at least there were people dedicated to ‘finding the bad seeds’. That was how Vinson had put it once; Chris had overheard him while filing some of his paperwork. The captain had been talking with Lewis about one of the men in Narcotics. It had quickly descended into a debate between the two senior officers, one the sergeant had wasted no time in walking away from. But it was better than there were people who could root out those ‘dirty cops’ and remove them from positions where they could do damage. It was a necessary evil, as one might say.

Chris’ nod was anything but automatic, and though it might have seemed triggered by her words and programmed, in a way, people who knew him, people like Élodie would immediately recognise the sincerity of such a simple action. “Any time,” he told her, that same earnestness from his actions in his words as well, ringing clear. Loyalty was something that came naturally to Chris Tyler, and when his friends needed him, he was there, and willing to do whatever was necessary in order to help. “Do you want to get some air? I think I have some water in my car. It might be a little warm, but it’s wet.” His smile was gentle, supportive.

[Elle]

Élodie nodded weakly, “Yes, that’s-- that’s a good idea.” Getting out of the house sounded like a wonderful idea right then, the darkness felt oppressive, like it was pressing in on her from all sides, sliding down the back of her neck, coating the back of her throat. A reassuring smile came to her features, trying to tell him that she was feeling a little better now, her breathing had returned to something resembling normal, though her frame was shuddering gently from shock, she had a better grip on herself. Bowing her head briefly she put her hand on his arm as she started to rise from the chair. Outside was good.

[Chris]

With the other officers on the way Chris felt he could focus his attention where it was truly needed. Élodie was unnerved, as she had every reason to be; Chris knew better than most just how much her past had rattled her and how hard she had worked to get past all of that. To have it rear its ugly head again would disrupt anyone’s calm, no matter how composed or collected they were in their day to day life. Even Chris, a seasoned officer of the law, was affected by certain things and he fully suspected that there wasn’t one cop on the force who could say they were without those triggers or shadows. Everyone had at least one fault, and anyone who said otherwise was a liar.

Letting her lean on him as much or as little as she wanted or needed to, Chris waited until she was on her feet and steady before he started to lead them out of the house, always keeping one eye on the house around them just in case anything moved or anything out of the ordinary caught his attention. The air outside was typical for Los Angeles, still carrying that warm edge even when there was a breeze, but as promised he had water in his car and when they were beside the vehicle and he had opened the passenger door for Élodie to sit inside he put the bottle in her hand, cap unscrewed. He was crouched down beside the vehicle, sticking close without being right in her personal space, in the perfect position to scan their surroundings every now and then while still being able to see the street so he would be able to rise and wave the unit over when it got close.