Dahlia Jackson (plaininsight) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2021-09-14 16:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | #group scene, #june 2018, dahlia, elodie, grady |
Who: Grady, Dahlia and Elodie
When: Monday, June 18th, early evening
Where: Dahlia and Elodie's apartment
Status: complete
It was an awkward thing, being called to the pharmacy to pick up a shoplifter. An intoxicated shoplifter. An intoxicated shoplifter who also happened to be Dahlia’s niece. Elodie was in the back of his patrol car, curled up on the seat and sleeping. Or, rather, passed out. She had been belligerent when he began to lead her out of the pharmacy where she had attempted to shoplift some candy and cigarettes, but as soon as Grady had gotten her into the backseat, she had slumped over and began to snore lightly. His job was to take her to the station, but he knew the pharmacy wasn’t going to press charges. Elodie was just banned from the building for the foreseeable future.
Taking her to the station meant booking her and making her sleep overnight in a holding cell. She was only seventeen and he tried to imagine taking Jen’s fingerprints before locking her up. It made him feel uncomfortable. Not to mention she was Dahlia’s niece and he felt like maybe he ought to just take Elodie home and let her aunt figure it out, if she wanted to. If Dahlia ended up asking Grady to take Elodie to the station, he would.
Parking in front of Dahlia’s apartment, Grady glanced back at Elodie to see her still sleeping, her lips parted, her eyes smudged with what Grady hoped was eye makeup. Leaving her there, for the time being, Grady climbed out of the cruiser and walked up to Dahlia’s door, sighing as he rang the bell and waited.
Dahlia had been having a fairly normal day compared to a lot of people in town. Elodie had left the house at some point in the early afternoon, but that wasn’t unusual at all. Dahlia hadn’t worried about her niece, just went on about her business, turning up the music while she worked on a couple of commission pieces. Time passed largely without her noticing, and suddenly the doorbell was bonging through the apartment. Dahlia picked up her phone to see if she’d missed any calls or anything, frowning vaguely as she got up. There was nothing. Huh.
Her brows lifted as she opened the door and saw Grady standing there, a smile automatically blooming on her face. “Well hey,” she said, opening the door wider to invite him in. He was in uniform and he looked a bit tired and serious, but she assumed that meant he’d just gotten off of his shift. “This is a nice surprise.”
She was so pretty, especially when she smiled and Grady immediately felt guilty for bringing her bad news. It wasn't bad bad news, so that was something. "Hey there," he said with a faint smile. "I uh, don't know how long the nice part of the surprise will last, but I've got Elodie in the back of my car. She's passed out, but I can carry her inside. I wanted to make sure you were home first." He wished this was the end of his shift, but he would be back at the station for a few more hours. This still felt important though and he didn't want to just dump her niece and take off.
Dahlia’s eyebrows arched further at Elodie’s name and fear flashed through her. No one ever wanted to hear that a cop had their child in their car, and even though Elodie wasn’t technically Dahlia’s child, she was at the same time. “What? She’s passed out? What happened?” she asked, her tone shifting into urgency. Dahlia hurried forward out the door, slipping past Grady to head for the parking lot to see for herself.
Grady let her by and followed her down to the car. He unlocked the doors and opened the back where Elodie was starting to stir, looking groggy as she lifted her head to look at the two adults blearily.
"She's intoxicated," Grady explained, grimacing a little as Elodie closed her eyes and let her head thunk back on the seat. "Linda from the pharmacy called about a shoplifter. When I got there, Elodie was causing a bit of a scene in the office where they were holding her. She was only trying to take about thirty dollars worth of merchandise, but..." Shoplifting was shoplifting. "I'm pretty sure Linda will let it go, but, uh, Elodie's not allowed back inside the pharmacy."
After bending to peer into the back seat, Dahlia gave Grady a wide-eyed look. “She was shoplifting? Elodie,” she said with strong disapproval, looking back at the unconscious girl in the back of the patrol car. It obviously wasn’t going to do any good to reprimand her at the moment, but they were definitely going to have to have a talk when she sobered up. Dahlia sighed and straightened up, hands on her hips. “Okay, yeah, can you -- do you need a hand carrying her upstairs?” she asked, her brow furrowed.
Having walked Elodie out to the cruiser earlier, he was fairly certain he could carry the girl without issue. If possible, she seemed smaller than Jen. "Yeah, it's fine," Grady assured Dahlia, reaching in the car to gently coax Elodie up to a sitting position. She moved easily and as soon as her head lulled onto his shoulder, he scooped her up and pulled her carefully from the car. She made a hissing noise, like she was in pain, before she gripped her arm.
"You broke your arm," she muttered before forcing her eyes open to look at Dahlia. Seeing her aunt prompted Elodie to grin lazily, her eyes still glassy from the pills she'd taken earlier. "You've got paint on your chin."
Dahlia tried not to hover, but it was difficult not to. There was a part of her that really appreciated watching Grady pick Elodie up, but mostly she was just worried. Once the girl was solidly in his arms, Dahlia leaned forward to sniff at her -- she smelled like booze. Dammit. Elodie’s first words didn’t make much sense, because everyone’s arms were fine, but Dahlia reached up absently to wipe at her chin. “And you are in so much trouble right now,” she told Elodie, though it was hard to be stern when she looked so out of it. The emotions coming off of her were jumbled and a little confusing. She started to lead Grady and her niece back up to their apartment.
Grady cocked a brow when Elodie mentioned his broken arm. He had broken it when he was ten. She had even gripped the right arm. Exhaling slowly to refocus, Grady looked at Dahlia before following her up and into the apartment. Elodie was giggling deep in her chest before she fell silent. For a moment he thought she had passed out again but when he glanced down, he saw her eyes were open, but unfocused. At least she was still breathing. Dahlia led them to Elodie's bedroom where Grady set her on the bed as carefully as he could. Elodie rolled onto her side, gripping her pillow against her. "You got any weed?" she mumbled at no one in particular. "It's totally legal."
“No weed,” Dahlia said sternly. “Stay in bed and sleep it off.” She glared at Elodie briefly, then ushered Grady out of the girl’s bedroom. Once the door was closed and they had walked back into the living room, she turned and planted her face in his chest with a groan. “Oh my god,” she muttered. “What was she trying to take? Did you find any drugs or anything on her?” Maybe she should have been trying to keep better tabs on Elodie all this time, but the girl was a headstrong seventeen, so Dahlia felt kind of helpless when it came to controlling her. She just wanted to help her, but this was a step backward. What if she’d been getting up to this kind of shit a lot and just hadn’t gotten caught yet?
Grady slipped an arm around Dahlia, wincing again when she asked about the drugs. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small ziplock baggy that had about four pills left inside. "Not sure what it is," he said apologetically, offering it to Dahlia. "She didn't have any alcohol with her when they caught her shoplifting, but this was all I managed to find when I patted her down. I can take it to the station and try to figure out what she's been on." There was always new shit ending up on the street, which was incredibly discouraging, especially for a police department as small as theirs. "I have ideas of where she probably bought them, but nothing concrete."
Dahlia pulled back enough to look at the baggy, then rubbed at both eyes. “Yes, please try to figure it out,” she murmured. “It probably shouldn’t be in the house anyway.” She could have flushed the pills to get rid of them, but it was probably better to know what Elodie had taken. She didn’t seem to be actively overdosing, but Dahlia was going to keep a close eye on her while she slept. “Just let me know what you find out. Thank you for bringing her home instead of ... you know.” It would have been much worse to have to go to the station to pick her up out of the drunk tank or whatever it was in this town. Maybe it paid off a bit to be dating the sheriff. “I’m sorry if she gave you any trouble.”
Grady nodded, understanding what she meant. "I know she doesn't have anyone but you and I didn't really have the heart to put her in a holding cell overnight, especially with how intoxicated she seemed. She was too out of it to do much more than try to push me a little." He couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. If she hadn't had so much garbage in her system, she might have been stronger. His amusement faded and Grady tucked a loose curl behind Dahlia's ear. "She'll be all right. I'll figure out what this is and then try to hunt down where she got it from. There is one thing though..." Trailing off, he looked down the hall to where Elodie's room was, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. "She mentioned my broken arm, only... I don't know many people who know that. That was over thirty years ago."
This whole thing was softened slightly by Grady’s tone and that little touch. Dahlia felt pretty lucky that their situation was what it was, and that it had been Grady responding to the call from the pharmacy. She let out a tiny groan at the mental picture of Elodie trying to shove the large man down, and she was glad he didn’t seem upset about it. The rest of what he said gave her pause though, and her own brow knitting together. She’d barely noticed Elodie’s wincing and gripping her arm, and chalked the broken arm thing up to drunk rambling. She definitely hadn’t connected it to anything having to do with Grady. “Wait ... so you did actually break your arm? She was right? That’s ... weird ...”
"Yeah." Grady had to agree that was weird. Because it wasn't something he really talked about and Dahlia certainly hadn't known so Grady had no idea where Elodie picked it up from. "It's not a big deal," he added after a moment. "Just very strange. She even gripped her arm... the left one, which is the one I'd broken. Had to have surgery to fix it too." Grady ran a hand over his hair, not entirely sure he wanted to start analyzing the whole thing. But he had trouble explaining it. "I don't know, maybe that's something you should just... keep an eye on? I know that sounds crazy but we still don't really know where she ended up for those four months. Seems like she might be having a hard time with things."
Being an empath herself, Dahlia knew that more things were possible than most people had any idea about. Had Elodie developed some kind of psychic power? Or was it something she’d always been able to do, but had kept to herself? Did that sort of thing run in families somehow? It opened up a lot of questions, and Dahlia was both dreading and looking forward to the conversation they would have to have about it all. Still looking thoughtful, Dahlia nodded at Grady’s words. “I’ll talk to her when she wakes up,” she murmured. “See if I can feel her out.” It didn’t sound crazy to Dahlia, and one day maybe she would tell Grady why her level of skepticism was so low, but not tonight. “I know she doesn’t trust me yet, which makes it so hard ... I just want to help her.”
Grady nodded. "Well, she's still a teenager. They don't trust anyone." His smile was faint. "Give it time. She may not think it's any of your business, but it'll show her that you care. And who knows, she may become an open book." He doubted that, only because he knew how teenagers could be. But he didn't want Dahlia to be discouraged. Elodie was lucky to have people in her life who clearly wanted to help her. And, though he knew better than to say so out loud, he was grateful that his own kids were fairly easy going. The biggest problem he had with Jen was her bug... collection. "If there's anything I can do to help, just tell me. She's likely less inclined to talk to me because of my job, but I can try."
Elodie was not only a teenager, she was a teenager who’d grown up with unreliable adults in her life. It made Dahlia wish she’d been more present throughout the years, maybe she could have gotten her foot in the door more. Of course, she hadn’t expected Elodie’s mother to mysteriously go missing. Maybe if the girl was developing some kind of psychic ability, they could bond over that. Dahlia would have to carefully play it by ear. “Thank you, Grady,” she told him sincerely, even dredging up a smile for him. He didn’t have to be so kind about everything, but he was, and she appreciated it. “I’d offer you a drink, but you’re still on duty ...?” Part of her wanted him to stay so they could lounge together a bit and relax, but she was getting the sense from him that he had things to get back to. She needed to focus on Elodie anyway.
"Yeah, I've got a few hours left," he said apologetically. "But I can come by when my shift ends and check on you, if you want." And Elodie, though he was more concerned about Dahlia at the moment, having to handle a potentially unstable teenage girl. Suddenly he was pretty thankful for Jen's bug obsession. His daughter could be out there shoplifting and taking god knew what with liquor. He was pretty certain Jen didn't even smoke. "Are you going to be all right?"
“I’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Dahlia said, giving him another small smile. “Hopefully she’ll just sleep it off, but I’ll keep a close eye on her, just in case. But yeah, if you want to, just call me when you’re done and I’ll let you know then.” She had a feeling it was going to be a rather sleepless night for her, but she wasn’t sure yet if having Grady in the apartment later would help or hurt things. It depended a lot on Elodie. Sure that he needed to be on his way soon, Dahlia slipped her arms around Grady and hugged him tight for a moment, resting her cheek against his chest. She could handle herself, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to feel his support for a moment.
Grady nodded, slipping his arms around Dahlia in return. He couldn't help but feel badly that he was leaving when she clearly could use someone, but he couldn't push off his shift either. It was part of the reason why his marriage had failed, though Grady was trying not to think about that right now. He knew Dahlia understood. Placing a kiss on top of her head, he rubbed her back gently with one hand. "I'll call you as soon as I finish up at the station. If anything happens before then, just call me and I'll be over."
She could feel that Grady felt bad about leaving, and it just endeared him to her even more. He didn’t need to guilt about it -- Elodie wasn’t his responsibility at all -- but Dahlia appreciated that he already felt involved enough to want to help her through a tumultuous teenage event. “I will,” she murmured with a little smile. Dahlia gave him a squeeze, then pulled back enough to turn her face up for a kiss. Pushing up on her toes, she lingered in it for a moment, letting the warmth of it combat her antsiness. It helped more than Grady probably realized. Dahlia smiled at him easier when they parted. “That’ll keep me going,” she murmured, patting his back. “Now go rescue some more idiot kids from themselves.”
The kiss was definitely welcomed and made it harder for Grady to pull away. But he did, reluctantly, smiling a bit at her words. "Honestly, I hope Elodie is the only idiot kid needing saving today. I feel like idiot adults are much easier to deal with." He chuckled and pressed another kiss to her forehead before heading for the door. "I'll call you as soon as I can. And if she wakes up... well, good luck." He managed a smile. "You'll be all right." Dahlia seemed to be a very understanding woman and Grady felt like Elodie was lucky to have her here as her guardian. Teenagers didn't always like what was best for them, but certainly it could have been a lot worse.
Dahlia walked with him to the door to lock up behind him, letting out a soft laugh. “I will, but ... I’ll probably need all the luck I can get,” she murmured. She glanced over her shoulder like Elodie might be awake already and listening to them, but the living room and hallway were empty. Dahlia could feel her in the house, so she wasn’t dead, but she still wanted to go check on her breathing and everything. “Stay safe, okay? I’ll talk to you later,” she said as she turned back to Grady. Dahlia blew him one more kiss as he headed out, then shut and locked the door behind him. Sighing, she leaned her forehead against the cool door for a moment, then turned to go check on her niece.
Elodie was dozing, but she had heard the front door shut somewhere in the back of her mind. She wasn't really thinking about what she had done, or where she was at the moment. Everything was floaty and distorted, just the way she liked it. Readjusting her head on the pillow, she heard the door open and Elodie figured it was probably Jasper. At least he didn't get annoyed to find her in his bed anymore. Cracking an eye open, she tried to work through the confusion at seeing Dahlia there. "What're you doing here?" she mumbled. Was Dahlia friends with Charlie now? That made sense, since they were two older ladies. They could play bridge and talk about cats. The thought made her snicker softly.
Dahlia tried to step quietly as she walked into Elodie’s room. She was talking, that was probably a good sign, and the sentence wasn’t gibberish. Dahlia could feel her confusion, but she didn’t seem to be in distress, so that was something. “I live here, remember?” she murmured in response as she carefully perched on the side of Elodie’s bed. Dahlia reached a hand out to brush some hair off of her forehead, checking her temperature while she was there. “You’re at home now, and I think you’re okay. Are you thirsty? Feel like you might puke?” Even if Elodie didn’t feel sick at the moment, Dahlia probably should make sure there was something for her to vomit in close by.
Elodie rolled onto her back rather than brush Dahlia's hand away from her hair. She didn't want to be coddled. She was used to taking care of herself when she felt like shit. "I'm fine," Elodie said, realizing a bit belatedly that she was in her bed at Dahlia's house. Rubbing her hands over her face, she wondered if she would have the energy to get up and go do things. The floaty feeling was slowly shifting into something that made her feel heavy and sleepy, so it seemed doubtful. Stifling a yawn, she rested both hands on her stomach. "Just need some weed. You have any? You definitely smoke weed. All artists do."
She accepted the distance and tucked her hands between her thighs as she gazed down at the girl. “I do have some weed, but I think you’ve had enough,” Dahlia told her mildly. Ordinarily she would’ve been fine with sharing, even though Elodie was still underage. But having her brought home like this ... her system needed to be cleared, not loaded up with more junk. “What did you take tonight, Elodie? I need to know just in case you start to die.” Grady was going to try to identify the pills, but gods only knew how long that would take. Elodie would probably be fine, since she was conscious and talking, but still, better safe than sorry.
Elodie snorted. "I'm not going to die. I've never felt aliver." The giggles started deep in her chest and it took a minute or so for them to dull enough for her to talk again. "Captain Cody. That's what the cops say is the street slang term." Elodie whispered. "Like, your boyfriend, I bet. I'm fine, though. I won't die." Rolling back onto her side, Elodie adjusted the pillow beneath her head, peering up at Dahlia. Her skin did feel a little sweaty and her head was starting to throb but that didn't mean she was going to die. "He's cute, by the way. Your cop. How's his dick?"
Captain Cody. Dahlia had no idea what that meant, but she made a mental note of it to text Grady as soon as she was done here. Hopefully it wasn’t something awful like fentanyl or a new kind of meth. If there was one thing this family didn’t need, it was more fucking drugs. The extremely personal question didn’t faze Dahlia at all. Elodie thrived on that shock factor, it was best to just not be shocked by anything that came out of her mouth. “Well I didn’t ask about it while he was here, but I’m sure it’s doing as well as the rest of him,” she quipped, smiling faintly. “I’ll be sure to tell him you think he’s cute, no doubt he’ll be flattered. Is that all you took? You smell like a dive bar, were you mixing it with liquor?”
It took Elodie a second to grasp the joke but once she did she started laughing, burying her face in the pillow to muffle the sound. Who knew her aunt could be funny? Adults were so fucking serious sometimes. Laughing so much was tiring her out more than anything else and Elodie sucked in a breath, wiping away her watery eyes. It took her another moment to answer Dahlia's question and she worked on toeing her shoes off, listening to them thump to the floor. "I had some whiskey that was in Jasper's bedroom," she admitted, using her toes to push her socks off as well. "His dad's always drinking so they've got plenty around. Seriously... it's weird that you're like... worrying about it. It's kinda freaking me out."
Dahlia couldn’t help but grin a bit as Elodie laughed, in spite of the seriousness of the situation -- laughter was already pretty contagious, and Dahlia’s empathy made it even more so. And it was kind of funny, however inappropriate. What Elodie said definitely wasn’t funny, and Dahlia’s face went serious again. She wondered if Charlie knew that the kids were getting into alcohol in her house. As a teacher, Dahlia couldn’t imagine that she would approve. “Well get over it,” Dahlia told her, her tone matter-of-fact. “Because I care about you, and I’m going to keep worrying about you doing dangerous shit. Weed is fine, and I don’t even mind you drinking some as long as you’re not driving anywhere ... but you can’t be mixing like this, okay? Or taking the hard stuff.”
It was instinctual to want to call Dahlia a liar. If she cared so much she would have been around more. But the same could be said for her dad and brother too. Even if Elodie didn't fully believe Dahlia, there was some coherent part of her brain that could admit she liked having someone care. That didn't mean she would stop doing whatever she wanted to do though. "I don't have a car, so you don't have to worry about driving," she pointed out. "And saying I won't take the hard stuff is easy but that doesn't mean I'll do it. I'll try not to though." That was as much as she could promise and mean it. Just thinking about life while almost sober all the time made her feel restless and uncomfortable.
They had already talked about Dahlia helping Elodie get a car, but if the teen kept up this sort of behavior, she might rethink that plan. Dahlia wasn’t sure she would ever forgive herself if Elodie died in a crash in a car she’d provided. She did know that lecturing her wouldn’t do any good, especially when Elodie wasn’t sober. “Thank you for trying,” she murmured. “I hope you mean that, because you’re so much better than ending up like your dad, you know?” Dahlia reached out to briefly squeeze Elodie’s arm, aware that she wasn’t keen on being touched too much. Dahlia just wanted to snuggle her to sleep, but she knew better. “And I’m trying not to get too sappy here, but ... I’m only a call or a text away, if you ever need a ride or help or anything, okay?”
Even the mention of her dad had Elodie cringing inside. Between her mom and dad, Elodie already figured she was doomed. Her brother had gotten all the good genes, which was why he was at college or something and she was here. Was she really that much better than her parents? Probably not, but Elodie wasn't one to wallow in self pity or mope about it. She liked who she was. "Okay," Elodie agreed, her bones feeling heavy now. She wanted something to drink, or some weed, but moving around felt futile. "I'm going to sleep now," she added, reaching down to grab her blanket and yank it up over her body. "Tell your cop thanks for not arresting me, 'cause that would've sucked."
Dahlia wasn’t going to harp on about it, but she did want to try to instill more self worth into Elodie. She’d had a really rough road, and she needed an adult in her corner who believed in her. Dahlia just hoped that Elodie would let her in enough someday to be that person. “Okay,” she said as she stood up so Elodie could get covered up. “I did thank him, but I’ll thank him from you too. Call me if you need me, okay?” She would keep her music and TV down and probably check on Elodie a few more times before she went to sleep herself. Dahlia just wanted to make sure she was okay. She headed for the door to slip out of it. “Goodnight, Elodie.”
"I will," Elodie said, tugging the blanket up over her head too, just so Dahlia would stop worrying so much and so vocally. While it was nice that she cared, it was also starting to make Elodie uncomfortable. "G'night," she said, words muffled from beneath the blanket. It wouldn't take her too long to fall back asleep and hopefully when she woke up, she would feel better and all of the sappy stuff would be over with.