missthis_ass | (no subject)

Entry tags:

coop,
therese

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Nate's gone and, truth be told, she'd kind of seen it coming.

It's not that Chloe had been expecting him to disappear, she hadn't been waiting for the other shoe to drop and she hadn't seen signs from the city that it was going to happen, but leaving is what they do. It's what they both do, so she's honestly a little surprised it hadn't happened sooner.

Were she anywhere else in the entire world, she'd just move on. Collect what few things matter to her, throw them in a duffle bag and catch the next plane out of the country to somewhere new. She'd find a job, she'd get lost in the work, and none of it would matter. But she isn't anywhere else. She's here. Stuck. Until she, too, of course, disappears eventually. Because she will.

It's what they do.

The worst part is cleaning up after him. Well, the worst part she'll admit to. The real worst part is the ache in her chest that reminds her of everything she's just lost, a man she actually loved, the one she thought spending her time committed to would be enjoyable instead of just a lesson in torture, but she's not about to say so to anyone.

Nate's gone. Crying over it won't help.

Still, he has a lot of notes left in his flat and she's sitting on the floor of his bedroom -- his, not theirs, she can't afford to think that way -- when she realizes she's going to have to move most of this back to her place. It's going to take a few trips down to her car and she knows she has to actually tell some people about Nate being gone, so she shoots off a quick text or two.

At Nate's, it reads. Do you have time to give me a hand with something?

To Coop, she doesn't add anything else. She can't tell him via text message that his closest friend is gone. To Therese, she includes Nate's address. Then she continues to sort through the papers and notebooks he's left behind.

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Well, that's not the strangest thing she's ever texted him. But still, something about it sets him on edge. He sends a quick reply back that he'll be there soon and then heads over.

It's a quick trip and soon enough, he's there in front of the door, knocking quietly.

"Chloe? You in there?"

"Hey," she calls when she hears the knock at the door and Coop's voice calling her name. "It's unlocked, come in. I'm in the bedroom."

Not our bedroom. The bedroom. That keeps a level of separation she needs right now. She doesn't want to be the person telling Coop about this at all, she's not great with bad news, but she has to tell him. And if she has to, she wants to get through it without wanting to do something idiotic like crying in front of him.

The best way to do that is to keep everything at arm's length. She can do that, she's done it for her entire life. This sucks, but it doesn't have to be any harder than that.

Weird but okay. Coop could go with that. He pushed the door open and walked his way back to the bedroom, coming to a stop in the doorway. Something felt off here. Something felt wrong.

"Chloe?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Something up?"

He didn't tend to just meet her in the bedroom so there was something amiss here.

Now she has to say something. Explain herself, explain the situation. She's sitting on the floor, surrounded by Nate's notebooks, and she looks up at Coop as he comes to a stop in the door. She hadn't wanted to tell him over the phone, had felt it too impersonal to say it via text, but now that he's here, she doesn't want to beat around the bush either.

"Nate's gone," she says simply. Her mouth twitches, but she bites the inside of her lip and sets her hands on the notebook she's currently holding. Even for the short amount of time he'd been here, he'd collected plenty of information on this place. She's going to keep it all.

"I needed to tell you in person."

"Oh."

The breath rushes out of him and he doesn't know what to say. He supposes that it's good that he's gone and not dead. They don't have to have a funeral for him. They don't have to bury him or spread ashes but still.

"I'm sorry," he says and means that. "Are you -- okay?"

She can't be. No matter how much she's holding it together she can't be okay.

"I'm fine," she answers and it's mostly true. Being with Nate, even for a short time, had been a strange kind of happiness she had never expected to have. They fit well together, neither of them could have ever denied that, but she still believes, in a deep part of her heart, that eventually he would have wanted things she's just not capable of giving him.

"He went back to her," she says, tapping her fingertips against the photo album sitting at her side. "Did he ever show this to you?"

When he'd gotten it, Chloe had barely glanced at it, unable to look at the happy pictures of Elena and Nate at their wedding, knowing she was sleeping with a man married to someone else. Someone she likes. But she's looked at it now. Every last photo.

"He didn't," Coop says, frowning at her. "But why are you looking at it? It's only going to piss you off."

Or make her sad. Coop starts to actually reach for the album, trying to get it out of her face.

"Why don't we -- let's go have a drink," he suggests. "That's better than this torture."

"It's not," Chloe answers with a shake of her head. "Coop, I'm really- it sucks. And I miss him already, but it's not like we haven't done this to each other a dozen times before."

Whatever she's feeling now, whatever she feels in the next few weeks, the album doesn't make it any more difficult. His marriage to Elena had always been there, a few pictures don't make it any more real for Chloe than it already was.

"I'll take that drink, though," she agrees, setting aside the notebook she's been poring over and reaching out her hand for Coop to help her to her feet.

Well, that's something though he still doesn't believe she's okay. Maybe it'll hit her all at once in a little while and she'll break down but she's looking remarkably put together right now.

"Come on," he says, tugging her along. Nate's probably got some booze somewhere, right? So they don't have to go anywhere? Coop thinks so because he's going to start rifling through his cabinets with the hand not holding hers.

"It really sucks," he says, glancing back at her. "It's okay to be upset. You know that right?"

Chloe's never really done well with being upset, because after her father had died, the worst had already happened, and it seemed so pointless. And now, even though there's a part of her acknowledging that Coop is right, she doesn't want that. She doesn't want to be sad that Nate is gone, she doesn't want to be that person who cries over this sort of stuff.

"I've never been much of one for tears," she tells Coop as she reaches past him for one of the cupboard to pull out a bottle of scotch. "Wouldn't you be at least a little thrown off if you walked in here and found me in tears? That's just not me. I deal by... by going through his stuff and looking for work. Which I might have found for the record."

"Thrown off but I would have understood," Coop said with a shrug. "It's a big loss."

Now, the distraction that worked provided, that made sense but he was still a little weirded out that she didn't seem to be more hurt or upset or sad that Nate was gone. Coop thought maybe he was acting a little sadder than she was.

"What work?" he asked, sighing. "Anything good?"

"Nate and I... we've been doing this for ten years," she explains, knowing it might not make sense to anyone else. She's hurting, knowing he won't be there tonight when she goes back to her own apartment, but it's a hurt she tries to push away. Her life has been full of painful abandonment and she refuses to let this be the one that breaks her.

Nate would never let her live that down if he knew.

"I know it's different," she says as she pours them both a glass of scotch. "In some ways anyway, but in other ways it's not." She pauses, takes a sip of the scotch, then says, "I think he found a lead on the people sending me those letters."

"Did he leave anything behind about those?" Coop asks, reaching for his glass and taking a few small sips. The loss of Nate sucked but it hadn't really sunk in yet. He'd just always expected Nate around to fuck shit up with, he guesses.

"Something to point you in the right direction?" he wonders. "I'll help you, if you want, but you'll have to get me a little more up to speed. I know about the letters but not much detail or how often and that sort of thing."

"I've gotten about half a dozen by now," she admits. "One a month since we took the compass. They're all the same, full of threats, telling them they'll give me until the end of the year to buy the compass back and return it to them. Saying if I don't, they'll unleash hell, blah blah blah. A lot of bullshit, if you ask me."

This is so much easier. She can talk about work, about the letters, she can distract herself and pretend Nate's not actually gone. She can act as if he's just working a job somewhere else in the world now and she might see him again in another six months or so.

"And some of Nate's notes indicate he thinks he's got a good lead on who the leader might be."

"Does he give a name? A location? Something?"

A lead is all well and good but they can't do anything if they don't know where to look. Nate struck him as a thorough type when it came to some things but a little flighty when it came to others. It was probably why they'd gotten along so well.

"Leads are good but I hope he left you an arrow that said 'it's this guy here' so someone can find him and confront him."

"But it's less fun when it's so easy," Chloe answers with a small tilt of her head and a smile. "No names, but a potential home base for their meetings, which is better than a name. That gives us the entire cult if he's right about it."

And Chloe's not reckless enough to confront the entire cult on her own, but she wants to see who the leader is. She wants to learn faces and names before she puts in an anonymous call to the police. Or one of the vigilante groups she sees working this city.

"And what are you planning on doing with the information?" Coop asked her, frowning. He hoped she wasn't going to go balls to the wall, full force into a situation that would probably get her killed but he knew she'd do risky things if so motivated.

"If you say you're going to go there, I'm going to tie you down and make sure you don't," Coop warned her.

"You'd have to catch me first," Chloe answers with a smirk before she lifts her shoulders, shrugging as she considers it. "I would want to be sure before I sent the police in their direction. I'd want to go and do a little recon work, see if I can get some names and faces to go along with the information Nate has collected. You can come with me. I promise we won't engage with the enemy."

She pauses, then adds, "And I'm still undecided on the police. I know I can find a way to call anonymously, but there are other ways to deal with people like this. Other... organizations in the city." She's spoken with Tony often enough now to know there are other options. She might just have to call him up and see what he'd be willing to do for her.

"I'd just rather avoid getting arrested," Coop said because been there, done that. "You know I'll go with you but I'm gonna need some time to get up to speed, send out a few feelers of my own. I've got contacts that you don't have."

Not many but some. He moved in different circles.

"But be careful with vigilante groups. I don't want you to owe someone."

“Feel free, darling, it’s why I’m sharing this with you,” Chloe says easily. Maybe she’s used to working alone, but she’s not adverse to using the resources of others when they’re offered. Coop is one of the few people she trusts and she knows he wouldn’t go asking around in a way that will end up with her getting killed by these fools, so she’s happy enough to let him do what he likes.

“Please, I doubt any of them would ask for anything,” she adds with a laugh. “They’re the do-gooder sort, aren’t they? Superheroes and masked men patrolling at night. I met a man who’s built himself flying suits of armour so that he can keep the city safe.”

"They're not always do gooders," Coop said, shaking his head. "Maybe here that's what they are but I've known a few who are pretty violent and just do what they do to get what they want. Just be careful."

He doesn't want to sound overbearing or like he's trying to handcuff her but he has so few people still here that he actually cares about that he'd like to keep those that are still around in one piece.

"Flying suits of armor is just asking for trouble," he mentioned. "When they take on sentience and come alive."

"It's sweet that you're worried about me," she says and leaves it at that. Another time, she might tell Coop to back off, that she'll be fine, that she doesn't need a man trying to keep her reined in, but she appreciates what he's saying. He's only doing it because he cares and she has so few people in her life here who actually do. Even in her current state, trying to deny how hurt she is by Nate's disappearance, she knows better than to alienate Coop now, too.

"I wonder if they did that," she adds thoughtfully. "Took on sentience, I mean, when all the phones and electronics went haywire. I had to save a woman from a rabid electric blanket."

"...fun." This town was so nuts. Coop was going to end up in years of therapy if he ever got out of this place. He sighed and shook his head.

"Yeah, I'm worried about you. Don't let it go to your head and don't think you're going to shake me either," Coop told her. "I'm a cockroach. I am unshakeable."

"I have no desire to shake you off," Chloe promises him. "I would have done so a long time ago if that were the case."

Which is rare enough. It's kind of impossible in a place like Darrow, not to get attached at least somewhat. She's done her best, kept her connections minimal and kept most people at a distance, but she can't do it with everyone. Although she knows, no matter what happens down the road, she's not going to be dipping into monogamy again any time soon. Trying with Nate and the losing him, that's enough for her.

"Do you wanna stay at my place tonight?" Coop offered without much thought. But, it was with her best interest at heart. He was not doing it to take advantage. He didn't want her to be alone and he had a couch and a bed so there were plenty of places to sleep.

Separately.

"Not like that," he said quickly. "But you can. Just to not be on your own."

"Oh, not like that?" she asks, looking amused. "Are you saying you wouldn't want to cuddle?"

But she knows what he means. And it's for the best, even if the idea of sleeping with Coop is terribly appealing. She doesn't know a lot of healthy ways to deal with what she's feeling and sleeping with him might distract her, might distract them both, but it would be a bad idea. She knows it wouldn't end well, no matter what sort of good intentions they had to begin with.

"I'll be fine on my own," she says. "I promise. I kind of want my own bed right now anyway, so if you're worried about me being alone, you're welcome to stay with me. But there will be popcorn in bed and there will be movies on the TV and you will be required to cuddle just a little."

"I will stay on your couch," Coop said because he knew just as well as she did that anything more would just be a terrible idea and it would probably throw a huge wrench into their friendship. No, better to keep it platonic and somewhat distanced.

"So, you won't have to worry about popcorn in the bed because I will be on the couch, stretched out and snoring," he promised.

"I'm not going to try to fuck you if we watch a movie in bed," Chloe says and she knows she ought to make it into a joke, but she suddenly doesn't feel like it's all that funny. Mostly because, in another situation, maybe she would try to sleep with him. Maybe it would help her feel better, giving herself that kind of distraction.

But she doesn't want to. She absolutely does not want to do anything but just go back to her own flat where things are familiar and comfortable.

"Trust me," she says, finally smiling a little. "I can resist you."

"I didn't think that was going to happen," Coop said, rolling his eyes. It was more that he'd feel weird about sleeping in the same bed with her, innocent or not, so soon after Nate's departure. He didn't want to make things awkward.

"We'll figure out what to do when we get over there," he said neutrally. "Don't worry about convincing yourself you'll resist me. I know you will."

Of course, Therese sends back without hesitation. She's never been over to Nate's apartment — never actually met him at all, for that matter, though she knows how important he is to Chloe — but she sees no reason to decline. There's nothing else for her to be doing, and whatever Chloe needs a hand with, she might as well help if she can. If a part of her thinks she could probably use something to busy herself with anyway, she quiets it quickly. Still dressed from work, she leaves her apartment and hails a cab, giving the driver the address Chloe gave her, and carefully rolling off her stockings in the backseat like she did countless times back in New York while she waits to arrive.

Those get shoved into her purse, and she gives the driver a tip and a smile before she steps out of the sidewalk and into the building in question, taking the elevator up. At the door, she hesitates for only a moment, half-hoping she won't be met by a stranger. "Hello?" she says as she knocks. "Chloe, it's me."

"Hey, it's open," Chloe calls. "I'm alone."

As far as she knows, Therese and Nate had never met, but even so, she doubts Therese would want to just walk into Nate's apartment if there was a chance he might be there to greet her, too, most likely a complete stranger. Chloe would have had no problem with walking into a stranger's home, especially if a friend had invited her, but she knows not everyone is quite as comfortable with that.

At least she's still thinking. None of this is undoing her to the point where she's not still functioning more or less the same. That's something.

At the sound of Chloe's voice from inside, Therese relaxes a little, opening the door to let herself into the apartment. She might not have minded meeting Nate, but it's a little easier not to be met by someone she doesn't know when showing up at his door, regardless of her having been invited here. It's a little strange regardless, of course, but still preferable.

She doesn't know exactly what she might have expected, but she glances around once she's shut the door behind her anyway, taking everything in before she crosses towards Chloe. "Hi," she says. "So what's going on?" She'd asked for a hand with something, and Therese doesn't know what she might be able to help with, but she hadn't seen the need to ask before coming here.

"Hey," Chloe answers and she manages a smile, even if it's not quite the warm one she usually has for Therese. For all she's doing relatively well with this, she still doesn't feel as good as she usually does. The loss, even though it's one she'd been waiting for in some way, is still weighing on her.

Tossing aside Nate's photo album, taking care to put it in one of the boxes she's taking with her, she stands and brushes her hands off on her jeans.

"I've got to get these boxes over to my place," she says. "I was hoping you might be willing to help me get them down to my car, then drive over with me." It's such a detached way of addressing what's happened, acting as if she just needs help moving out, but Chloe doesn't know how else to process it.

"You're—" Therese starts, but the words on the tip of her tongue die there. Her instinctive first thought is that Chloe must be moving out, except that, to the best of her knowledge, Chloe never moved in. This apartment is Nate's; she still has her own, unless something happened that Therese isn't aware of. The fact of that leaves her with one other probability, one that makes her stomach sink a little to consider. She's experienced losses, two lately that have left her somewhat thrown, but never one like this.

Or, well, maybe Carol counts. Maybe this is like waking up that one morning to find the hotel bed empty and Abby sitting there waiting for her.

"Oh," she says quietly, her expression softening. "Of course I will. Is he..."

"Gone?" Chloe supplies, then nods. "Yes. He knows better than to take a walk about without telling me, so after a few days I had to assume he'd gone back home."

It's so easy to say. She wonders if it shouldn't be, if she should be having a more difficult time with this, but Chloe knows, ever since her father, her emotional reactions haven't quite been what most people would expect. Loss is inevitable. Nate was always going to leave or she was going to, she's not a fool.

"I don't want to leave his notes here, though," she says. "God knows what he's written in these books. Half of it might incriminate me."

"I'm sorry," Therese says, swallowing hard. There's no sense in comparing losses, nothing to gain by noting that she's had friends disappear recently. It isn't the same, and it isn't as if it's any secret that this sort of thing happens around here, anyway. People vanish without any warning, leaving everyone else to try to put those pieces back together. She can't just say nothing, but she gets the impression that Chloe doesn't want to dwell on it, anyway, or at least that she doesn't want to make too much of it.

It took her weeks to resurface after Carol left, but she'd gotten in far too deep anyway. She wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"Anything you want to get boxed up and moved out of here, I'll help you with."

Chloe reaches out when Therese says she's sorry, catches her hand briefly and gives a gentle squeeze. She's not one for thanking people, not the sort to dwell on her feelings or speak freely about her emotions, but Therese is too good a person to have her support just ignored.

"It's mostly his books," she says. "The clothes I'll donate to charity."

And the rest she can leave behind. The furniture isn't anything special, she knows Nate hadn't been the one to buy any of it. She's not going to waste her time poring over things he hadn't cared about at all.

It's nice of her, Therese thinks, but she doesn't see the need to say. Somehow, that seems a bit beside the point. It isn't as if Nate is coming back for them himself, and it might be easiest just to get rid of as much as possible. She doubts she would, in Chloe's position — she'd probably hold onto as much as she could, no matter how much it hurt — but there's not much sense in it. At least she can recognize that.

"We can box those up, too," she suggests, "and take them somewhere, if you want." For now, she reaches down to pick up one of the boxes that's ready. "Should we start bringing these down to your car?"

Chloe knows she's going to spend the next several weeks scouring the books and notes he's left behind, looking for some sort of last job he might have been working on. If she can pick up where Nate has left off on something, she knows it'll make her feel a little bit better.

But she doubts there's anything in these books she doesn't already know. Jobs in Darrow are limited and Nate had shared most of his information with her.

"Yeah, I've mostly got the books packed up," she says. "Thank you. For coming."

"Of course," Therese says easily. She would come in a second whenever Chloe might need her here. There are few people in Darrow she feels even half as close to, and not just because they've had sex. Besides, this is hardly any sort of difficult task, at least not on her side of things. Chloe has lost someone she cares about; for her, it's just packing up books and clothes and whatever else and moving them out of the apartment, a little strenuous but not troublesomely so.

"I don't know if there's anything else I can do to help, but..."

"Honestly, darling, I don't think there's anything anyone can do," Chloe answers, but she's smiling little. "Nate and I... well, we were never meant to be. Neither of us are the sort for till death do us part or anything like that. Eventually, no matter where we were, one of us would have left."

The only difference is that she's stuck here. At home, she would have been fine, found some other job, let it take her halfway across the world. In a year or so, they would have been back together, working on something, and it would have started all over again.

"He was married, you know," she says. "Estranged at the time he came here, but..." She shifts through the books and pulls out the photo album with his wedding pictures and the pictures of his daughter. "That obviously changed."

It's a different situation, a different story, but still, Therese can't help but think of Carol, the husband she was divorcing and the little girl she would have done anything not to lose. She can't fault Carol that, of course. maybe it would be easier if she could. Resentment might be easier than the persistent sadness she's felt, or having someone to blame other than circumstances. And Carol's husband, of course, but what he did wasn't wholly unexpected. Someone else would almost certainly have done the same thing.

"So you knew you'd only have so much time," she says with a small, bittersweet smile of understanding. "It's hard. Being with someone when you know that's the case." She pauses for a moment, then adds, "I'm glad you got to be together here."

Chloe is quiet for a moment, uncharacteristically so, then she smiles faintly and says, "So am I."

Flipping open the album, she points to a picture of Nate and Elena on their wedding day. "She's a better woman for him anyway. Nate likes to pretend he doesn't want the white picket fence and the happy family, but he always has. And if there's a woman in this world who could give him both family and adventure, it's Elena Fisher."

She grins a little then and says, "If he hadn't already clearly been interested in her, I might have tried my hand."

Edited 2018-11-07 15:48 (UTC)

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