〔    ⟡   *   @charmrepulsed  ◞     〕

❛         not  sure  if  you’re   aware,        but  you  keep    really  terrible  company.         ❜          he   might    still  be  a  little  bitter  about  lucifer  practically   FORCING    him  to  reveal  his  crimes,         even  in  such   little    detail.        but  he  digresses         —-          ❛         not  that  i  can  talk,       i  guess.        for  some  reason,         everyone  thinks  i’m  an  asshole.          ❜

‘    i’m working on it,  i  promise  you that,  but you gotta give me  SOMETHING.    ’

it’s the bottom of the ninth.  he isn’t just being implicated anymore :  they’re fighting to pin a murder on him,  &  the prosecution is out for  blood.  one cop saying he’s innocent won’t hold up without concrete proof,  an ironclad alibi,  anything.  the window of opportunity to plead his case is almost shut.

they’ll try him as an adult.  twenty - five to life is the best case scenario,  here,  assuming they don’t shoot for  life without parole  –––––––  or worse.

❪   she told him she’d never let that happen.   ❫

‘    what about your friend,  uh  —    ’      case file flipped open,  the name pops up after a few seconds of diligent skimming.      ‘    mbege.  you said he was with you that day,  right ?  think he’d testify ?    ’

YOU ACTUALLY LAUGH WHEN she calls you gandhi, accepting the handcuffs with ease. there’s no reason to be worried or anxious, seeing as there’s only two options ahead. either she puts you in jail or she doesn’t. a predictable future. it’s comforting. there’s a carefree nature to your smile as you look at her. she’s pretty, if you pay attention. and this time you do, as she clamps the metal rings around thick wrists. you won’t act on it though. you never do.

                                              ‘if you wanted to handcuff me & take me with you, all you had to do was ask.’

@charmrepulsed & CONT.

typical.      ‘    –––––––  mm.  you,  uh,  remember that whole  right to remain silent  thing ?  why don’t you go ahead  &  give it a shot.    ’

she’s maybe a two on the exasperation scale,  otherwise unfazed :  he isn’t the first to pull this routine  &  he probably  won’t  be the last.  once he’s secured in the back seat,  she climbs behind the wheel  —  cuts a glance at him in the rearview before keying the ignition  &  shifting into drive.  california state law allows for a 48 - hour hold,  then they either charge him or let him walk.  

so,  NO PRESSURE.

‘    ––––––  yeah,  sure it is.  that’s your thing,  huh ?  mind over matter ?  seems kinda  zen  for a guy in your position,  don’t you think ?    ’

a tic of her jaw,  steel gaze leveled as she swaps out her glock for a pair of handcuffs.  everything they have is arguably  circumstantial  at this point,  but it’s enough for probable cause ;  more than enough to bring him in,  &  that’s all she needs.  metal snaps against wrists,  a satisfying  click  as the mechanism locks.  one hand braces against his forearm while the other presses into his shoulder to steer him towards her car.

‘    save it for the interrogation room,  gandhi.  you’re coming with me.    ’

‘    what does that mean ?  hey  —  talk to me.    ’

a last - ditch effort to gain a little traction,  but he’s looking at her like she committed the ultimate breach of trust  &  it’s  terrifying.      ❪   maybe he’s telling the truth.  maybe he’s been telling the truth all this time like he said he would  &  she was too obstinate to allow even a hypothetical scenario in which it could be real.  when i see something i can’t explain,  yeah,  i look for answers.  he bled when her bullet grazed him,  just like anyone else would.  the devil doesn’t bleed,  right ?  the devil doesn’t exist.  maybe  –––––––   ❫

do i scare you ?

no.

‘    lucifer.    ’

maybe none of it matters,  because at the end of the day none of it changes what  DOES :  he’s made quite the lasting impression.  somewhere along the line,  he managed to get under her skin in a way that she just can’t seem to shake.  &  she cares.  probably more than she should.  it won’t end well for  either  of them.

she takes one cautious step towards him,  a measured approach,  testing the waters ;  he’s never looked at her like this before.  she doesn’t like it.  can’t reconcile the man in front of her with the man who’s  HAD HER BACK  at almost every turn for the last seven months.

‘    okay.  let’s say i believe you.    ’

three feet away  &  she stays put,  doesn’t break eye contact.

‘    let’s say  —  you really are who you say you are.  start there.  now are you gonna tell me what’s got you so scared,  or do we have to keep going in circles ‘til i figure it out myself ?    ’

       HE NOTICES IT, the game: she’s stopped playing, or at least paused it for a moment.  sometimes people need a second to drink it in, the shocking truth, that some parents just don’t make for good ones.  murphy needed a second too, a few years back.   ❝ m’kidding, ❞  he shrugs it off.   ❝ she’ll show, detective.  little tipsy, maybe. ❞  his voice pitches, words stretch — he’s squinting his eyes as if he’s putting on a little show, telling her a joke.

she read the files,  the reports,  the testimonies ;  she studied the evidence.  it’s damn near  impossible  to sell anything less when the department is itching for a scapegoat,  for someone to blame  —  she learned that too well on the palmetto case  —  but a couple of fist - fights  &  misdemeanors don’t make this kid a murderer. 

‘    can you  —  can you at least  PRETEND  to be taking this seriously ?    ’

it never fails :  back to the grindstone for a matter of minutes  &  he’s already on his third punchline.  nothing she hasn’t grown accustomed to,  except for the fact that he’s been trailing after her like a puppy for the past couple of weeks,  complaining,  quipping,  &  babbling in that way people do when they’re nervous.      ❪   not for a lack of trying,  but he  STILL  won’t tell her what’s wrong.   ❫

she ducks her head as she side - steps him,  mostly to hide an exasperated smile that isn’t  —  in spite of her best efforts  —  without a dash of genuine fondness.

actually,  she almost laughs.

‘    i think you’re safe,  anyway.  nobody wants to kidnap a guy who never  shuts up.    ’

ANCHORING DOUBT,     flooding the veins of such a precious life.   he notices,   &   stands patient at the shoreline,  waiting for the day she might  rise.   it must get exhausting,  struggling  to keep yourself afloat in a riptide of  denial.   hands pocketed,  he resigns.

‘     –––––     perhaps over a bottle of pinot grigio,  naked in front of the fireplace ?   you’d be  amazed  at the conversations i can hold in the throes of passion.     ’

what she’d be  AMAZED  by is any conversation with him at all that didn’t include a dig about getting her  naked.      ❪   let’s pretend it’s never crossed her mind in a moment of weakness  or ten.   ❫

      A RISK INDEED ; his sleeves veil the goosebumps scattering across his forearms.   ❝ she’s got better things to do, ❞  and he shrugs, a noncommittal little thing.  ❝ never liked monopoly much, either. ❞  because calling your mother an alcoholic bitch wasn’t as easy as murphy would like it to be, even after years of practice.

”DETECTIVE chloe decker?” head peeking into the unfamiliar but not unusual office, essentially inhabiting a police station all his life. “nice office.” latch of the door shutting ever so quietly, standing facing her as his eyes survey the room. a trick that had taken him SEVERAL years to master. “your charming partner who literally looks like he should be the suspect in the case you’re working, directed me to you. stiles stilinski, by the way.” pulling his bag open and producing a file of the murders and placing it upon her desk. opening it with ease for her to peruse. entirely aware of how insane he appears upon a first impression. “so i was watching the news and something seemed - off. i don’t know, missing. so i watched back the footage and -” he presents the images of the bodies with no explanation of how he attained such material. “i don’t think these murders were committed by anything - HUMAN. you can’t seriously tell me you’ve seen a human being tear through bodies LIKE THAT. so it’s either a feral something or a very, very angry robot that is trying to prove it’s superiority to the human race. think the new ‘kong’ movie but with robots.”  – @charmrepulsed

not her office.  dan’s,  in fact,  which could easily be another bone of contention between them :  that despite sharing the same rank,  he’s in here while she’s still driving a desk in the bullpen with everyone else.  she’s sifting through paperwork  &  microfiche,  only half - listening until the boy plants a case file directly in front of her.  a response begins as she looks up,  halts abruptly the second she sees what he’s presenting.

‘    yeah,  i can’t discuss an ongoing investiga —    ’

HER  investigation.  in a manila stamped with the LAPD’s logo,  no less.  feral somethings  &  angry robots are the least of her concerns right now.

HIS HEART IS NOT COLD,     despite what others choose to believe     ❪     he is a kaleidoscope of emotions on a wide - range spectrum,   &   it troubles him.     ❫     tongue in cheek,  he volleys another quip.

‘     don’t threaten me with a good time,  detective.     ’

‘     –––––     it  did  get me killed.   the devil’s work is never  finished,  my dear.     ’     &   then he pauses,  as if taking a moment to consider his options.     ‘     no,  i said i could  pull strings  to his  benefit.   nothing about wiping the slate clean.   however,  i’m notoriously written as being sinfully persuasive when i want to be.      ’

there it is :  that ludicrous claim,  the one apparently lacking horns  &  a tail.  the devil.  it flies in the face of everything she believes ;  more importantly,  everything she  DOESN’T.  but three times,  he’s been riddled with bullets  &  walked away unscathed.  it did get me killed.      ❪   you saw it.  i don’t know what i saw.   ❫

‘   of course you are.   ’