2019-09-13 - Wave goodbye to the Krugers.

Mid-afternoon on Friday the thirteenth sees Graham and Elise doing what Graham and Elise do best (fucking). It's Elise's day off, which means minimal getting out of bed is on the agenda. They were probably supposed to get groceries or yoga or wtfever but that's been put off in favor of getting off. Phones ring and get ignored because they're busy.

Then busy is over, and there was probably at least a little cuddling before Graham made a grab for his phone from the nightstand. Really, it's a grab for cigarettes, having just told Elise he's going to put on some goddam boxers and go out to the yard and have a smoke so contain yourself for like ten minutes, woman!, but the phone is right there, so he grabs that, too. The unlit cigarette dangles from his mouth while he scrolls through a couple messages, uncharacteristically quietly.

Leaving Elise the chance to check her own messages. She has a voicemail: it's from Sergeant Somebody [his name is unintelligible on the message], and could she please give him a call at this number right away, it's important.

It doesn't get past Elise that she's getting lucky on the supposedly unluckiest day in the world. And she didn't just get lucky once, oh no, she might actually be the lukiest girl in the entire world! At least, that's how she feels in the moment, stretching languidly on the bed as Graham goes reachy-reach for his cigarettes; she didn't even complain this time, there wasn't even a mumbled rabble-rabble. "So how many of those missed calls do you think was mom?" she asks as she leaaanns over the bed, reaching to scoop a shirt off the floor. It's one of his, which explains why she gives a quick sniff to the pits before shrugging and slipping it on, shifting up and towards the pillows when she makes a grab for her phone.

"You think she's still pissed that I told her I wasn't coming over anymore if she kept inviting over guys from church for 'tea' while I was there?" Graham would know that Elise was currently giving her mother the silent treatment after the last incident involving these random gentleman callers; they were supposed to go over there for dinner last night, but instead? Instead, they stayed home and did what they did best (fuck). "But hey, maybe hell froze over while we were fucking and she's calling to apologize. Stranger things have happened!" she was too cheerful. Way, way too cheerful for the things that were about to come.

There's a frown at her screen when the last 'missed call' was from a number she didn't recognize, the frown deepening when she listens to the voicemail. But it doesn't immediately register that something could be happening; she instead looks accusatorily at Graham. "What'd you do this time?" she pops a brow when she tells him the police were calling, and she was definitely going to bitch about his cigarettes now. But she stays in bed as she dials back the number, pinching Graham on the hip while she talks: "Yes, this is Elise Kruger. I'm returning a call?"

She's talking all that shit about her mom, and Graham is just over here, reading his messages silently. He's not even being a good boyfriend and making noises like he's listening and cares. He doesn't actually tune back in entirely until she's already 'returning a call?' and by then it's too late, though that doesn't stop him making a grab for the phone.

Whose dice are working today...

Not his! "El, don't - gimme - stop - " But she's got that phone well and truly in hand, and all that happens to him, in the ensuing scuffle, is that he falls off the side of the bed, making a lot of noise when he hits the ground. (You'd think he'd be used to this shit by now.)

It takes a minute, on the other end of the phone, for Elise to get through to Sergeant Something - his name is no more intelligible now, when he repeats it, than it was on the voicemail. "Miss Kruger. Thank you for returning my call. I have someone - "

Knock knock on the door. Graham flails gracelessly for some kind of clothing. He's at a distinct disadvantage here.

Wow, Graham, way to seem super guilty! But there's an awful lot of laughter that chimes from Elise through the struggle, even if she makes a lot of "G, staaahppp, I'm on the phone, you're being so rude" noises. And then she puts her hand on his face and pushes, incidentally not knowing her own strength, and over the bed he goes. It just makes her laugh a little more, giggles she works hard to suppress as she crawls on her knees to peek over the bed while trying to sound professionally apologetic on the phone.

"Mm, if this is about the incident last month, Sergeant, I'm still not very happy. But it's about time someone in the department returned my calls.." she starts, before she tips her head to the bedroom door when she hears the knock-knock-knock downstairs. Her brows collapse into a furrow, and she frowns at Graham and his useless naked self while scooting out of bed, grabbing a pair of gym shorts and slipping them on while she walks out into the hall.

"Excuse me," she mumbles into the phone, holds the receiver away from her mouth, and shouts down the stairs. "I'm coming!" not the first, second or seventeeth time that she shouted that exact phrase today. "One second!" The stairs are taken quickly, with every intention of grabbing the door while dealing with this person on the phone.

The person on the phone has at least as much going on in his life as Elise does, so her distraction pairs with his nicely. He keeps putting his hand over his phone and talking to someone, muffled things, only occasionally trying to talk to Elise directly. Such as when he says, "That should be Officer Chetson at your door, Miss Kruger."

When she opens it, that's exactly who's there. Chetson, holding his cap in his hands, his partner standing just off the porch, looking around the yard. At his most polite and sympathetic, "Miss Kruger? I'm sorry to bother you. May we come in?" (The answer to that question better be a gigantic NO YOU MAY NOT or Graham will almost definitely come unglued later.)

Just right this second, Graham has finally materialized at the top of the stairs, pulling his shirt down, trying to button his jeans. It'd be pretty if it wasn't just him frantically trying to keep Elise from finding out about her dead parents from the cops.

It's safe to assume that Elise has had very little dealings with the police herself up to this point in her life - she's never even so much as gotten a speeding ticket, which is crazy because she's half Asian and female and that's just a recipe for disaster. So there's a lot of blinking when she opens the door to see that the man on the phone is correct, and Officer Chetson is indeed at her door. The cellphone slips, left to dangle in her fingers as her hand drops to her side, and she considers this man in front of her with a furrow of her brow.

The 'good girl' in her was about to hold the door open wide in invitation, but when she hears Graham stomping up at the top of the stairs, she finds her resolve. She instead straightens, keeping herself positioned between the police and Graham, because now she definitely thinks that he's in trouble. "Look, Officer Chetson, I'll come outside on the porch with you but I think with what happened last time, I'm not particularly interested in having the police storm my living room again unless you have some kind of warrant," she tries to look both genuinely apologetic and forceful - like yes, she's willing to cooperate so don't taze her, bro, but no, you can't just bring the entire department into her house again. Although, she didn't exactly see the entire department; maybe they are waiting in the wings. "Though I think, maybe, you should give me a moment to call our lawyer." That's what G would do, right?! Lawyer up???

"Miss Kruger, this isn't about - " Graham shuts the door in Chetson's face at that point. He just trips himself right down the stairs, takes the door by the upper corner, and closes it, leaning his weight against it so Elise is going to have to use all her muscles to dislodge him. Chetson starts knocking immediately, tapping his knuckles on the closed door, saying, "Miss Kruger, if you would please open the door, we have something urgent to discuss with you."

Over the top of this, Graham (who would totally be proud of Elise for remembering she needs her lawyer, except this really isn't the time for that) scoops the hand not holding the door closed beneath Elise's chin so she's definitely going to have to look at him. "They wanna talk to you about your parents, baby." His tone is serious. The look on his face is even more serious. Also sad.

It's probably for the best that Graham comes down to shut the door in Chetson's face, because Elise was about half a step away from walking out onto the porch like she said she was going to do. But it throws her off, making her jerk backwards as she gives Graham a startled sort of look. "Graham, what the hell? You can't just shut the door on the cops, I was handling it!" she insists, definitely not impressed with him in the moment. But when she reaches to grab his arm, he takes her chin instead, and turns her hardened gaze up to his own, far more sad eyes.

It's the tone more than the words that turns Elise's blood to ice. The phone dangling from her fingertips slips, clattering to the floor (was the other police sergeant still on the other end?). And a thousand thoughts flood through her head in that instant, an array of difficult emotions flashing through her dark eyes; but please don't blame her for not immediately coming to the darkest conclusion. Her father was sick, after all, it was only natural for her to assume.. "Is my dad okay?" she pulls away from Graham, from her chin in his hand, going from defensive to nurse-business mode in an instant. "Is he in the hospital? God dammit, move!" She moves at his shoulder, trying to dislodge him from the door..

.. And really, maybe Graham needs to work out or something. She'll put him off balance enough that she can throw open the door again, enough to wedge herself between the door and the porch so he can't slam it shut again. "Is he at the hospital? What room is he in? I can take my own car, is it the emergency room?" It all comes tumbling out fast to Chetson, her voice just barely edged with the panic that she's carefully containing, and she's already on the move to walk out towards her car. Even if she's barefoot. And in what basically constitutes as pajamas. And without her car keys. "He just had his checkup, the doctor said he was fine! That he was getting better!" This is insisted to both Chetson and Graham.

When all this is over, don't say Graham didn't try. Because he really does, but it's not going to help soften the blow if it comes at the cost of having to wrestle her away from the damn door, while Chetson is still knocking on it and talking to her through it. "Baby, I really think - " That he's doing more harm than good at this point. Shoved (again!) out of the way, he winds up stepping out onto the porch behind Elise, passing a dull look across the two cops.

Who at least dgaf about him for once!

"Miss Kruger," Chetson begins patiently. "Miss Kruger, your parents were killed last night." He finally just gets that out there, point-blank (haha same way her parents died). "I don't have a lot of details for you right now," maybe the guy on the phone did, but he hung up already, "but you have my condolences." There! He dispatched his duty.

"Shut UP, Graham, and just get my fucking keys!" Elise snaps back to tell Graham what he should be doing that's not 'really thinking' right now, and really it's a safe bet to assume she'd already be in her car and impatiently honking the horn had Chetson not finally come out with it. The words don't seem to register, not at first, because she still propels herself a few steps further before she suddenly stalls out. "I'm sorry, what?" There's the subtlest of tremors to her shoulders as she pushes her fingers through her (still slightly sex-mussed) hair as she flips back to stare at Chetson, and it's clear that the news hasn't exactly sunk in because she looks at him like he has two heads, and actually huffs out a little laugh.

"No, no. That's not right, that's not possible. We were supposed to have dinner last night," because somehow plans for a family dinner means murder cannot possibly happen. "She called me last night, we were supposed to eat dinner last night!" she insists, going from confused to angry. And Graham better stop her, because she's about to get up in Officer Chetson's face and shove him around like she shoves Graham around. "You're WRONG because we were going to have dinner LAST NIGHT! So you better tell me where the fuck they are right now, or I'll .. I'll have your fucking badge, Officer Chetson."

Chetson's partner, who had just been loitering around uselessly with a Manila folder in hand, steps forward with that folder extended toward Elise. Later, when it becomes relevant, just know that it has some (carefully cropped) photos of Elise's parents, definitely being dead. Right now, he actually drops it onto Elise's front grass in his efforts to get between her and Chetson. Lucky for everyone, Graham gets there first, having scurried off the porch to wrap his hand around Elise's wrist and pull on her arm.

"Miss Kruger," Chetson continues. "I'm so sorry, but I'm not wrong." He skitters backward, putting his cap back on and keeping a wary eye on Elise. A sympathetic eye, yes, but a wary one, too. "There was an incident last night at their hotel, and they were found this afternoon by the man that owns the vending machines." So there's that indignity to polish it all off. He's okay delivering these lines, because - by now - Graham has gotten his other arm around Elise's waist and is both holding her back and holding her to him at the same time.

"No, NO!" Elise practically launches herself against Graham's arm when he wraps it around her waist, probably sending him stumbling at least another few steps forward on account of her awesome dice before he manages to pull her back 'cuz she only really does weigh about 100lbs soaking wet. Her bare feet kick in the air furiously, and if looks could kill, Chetson would be joining her mother in hell right now. "No, this isn't possible, it's not possible! We were supposed to have dinner with them, she called me last night, she.." and there it was, that sudden drop, the way her body just goes limp in Graham's arms and she turns into him instead of fighting against him, the sob building up in her throat and kept there, choked there.

How many times had she been on the giving end of these conversations? Working in the ER now, in the children's cancer ward up in Seattle before, giving people the worst news was a way of life. She'd experienced grief from the outside, seen the agony and the anger and the guilt, but it'd never been her own before. "Why didn't we go to dinner?" her voice fills with sorrow when she looks up to Graham, practically pleading for him to answer the impossible. "Why didn't you tell me to answer the phone? Why wasn't I there? Who could have.. who.." and then there's nothing but tears, as she buries her head into Graham's chest and cries.

This is awkward for the cops. Neighbors, too. Chetson takes steps backward to stay out of Elise's range, his partner pulling him back, a toned-down version of the way Graham is pulling Elise. Some sort of near-silent communication must transpire between these three men while Elise is having her realizations; by the time she's asking her whys, they've left the Manila folder on the edge of the porch and retreated back to their car.

Graham has just one answer for all three questions. "I don't know." He says it twice, then shuts up and tucks his chin on top of Elise's head, shrugs, and smooths her fucked up hair. When she seems like maybe she's catching her breath (or just pausing between sobs, depending on how long this goes on), he suggests quietly, "Come inside."

Later, when Elise gets to see the pictures that the cops just unceremoniously left on her porch? Elise is going to deeply, deeply regret not kicking Officer Chetson's ass into next week with all the Thai Kung Fu she has. But that would be later, long after the tears stop and she's stumbling through however many other levels of grief that there are. Right now though, right now she needed to cry, and be held, and be an embarrassment to Oak Avenue. So she was gonna need a minute until she even manages to take a breath.

But she gets there, she does! She finds enough strength to steel herself long enough to get back into the house, to let Graham take her wherever he wants, but hopefully it's a place to sit down. Because as soon as he's seated, she's going to crawl herself into his lap and hold him with a scary sort of fierceness, like he was everything she had left.

'Cause, really, he was everything she had left.

"Did you know?" it comes at some point, in a voice that's quiet and raw with grief, "Please tell me you didn't know."

Later, Graham is gonna reflect on that question and realize it's a pretty fucked up thing to ask: did he know that there was a hit on her parents while he was banging her? Harsh.

Presently, he takes the cue and brings Elise into the living room, the sofa where they've had much happier times, and helps haul her onto his lap. Then he's mostly quiet, sometimes making kissing noises to her cheeks and hair, the occasional sympathetic sigh or two, but he's got nothing quippy for both her parents getting murdered. So the, "No," that comes out of him is honest and prompt. "Those texts," he chin-tips toward the bedroom, where he'd been reading those texts, "were people making sure we're okay. That's the first I knew."

It is pretty fucked up! For once, I'll agree with your meta. He should take it out on her later. But you know, sexily.

Anyway, at least she takes him at his word. Eyes red-rimmed, cheeks tear-stained, she just accepts what he says with a weak nod of her head. "Why then?" Brown eyes lift to his blue, seeking answers there even if he didn't have them. But it was rather evident that in her sorrow, Elise's already come to the conclusion that this wasn't an accident. That this wasn't just some random act of violence. "What did I do? What could I have possibly done, G? I've been giving him the Percocet, I haven't stepped out of line, I don't.. I don't get it, G, I don't understand. Why would he.. they were good people, G, I would've done anything.."

Graham JUST answered these questions, like, two poses ago. Remember? "I don't know," he reminds her. But patiently. She's all sad and vulnerable, and he's all in love, so he shakes his head to reiterate his lack of knowing why, and he smudges some tears off her cheeks. Gently, he points out, "It may not have anything to do with you, Elly. You parents are in their own shit. This could just be about that." Sighing, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "I'm sorry, baby. This sucks." He's very eloquent.

Please forgive Elise, who just lost her parents 3 poses ago, for asking the same question twice. It's not like you know, she's grieving and confused and HURTING! But good on Graham for reiterating, it might get him laid later (probably not anymore today tho, sorry dude). She leans into the kiss to her forehead, shuddering out another sob at his eloquence. Because yes, this did suck. It sucked big huge donkey dicks.

"We should've gone to dinner. I should've answered her call," she whispers, she's going to regret this for the rest of her life. "She pissed me off but I didn't think I'd lose her, Graham, I never thought I'd lose her." She lays her cheek on his shoulder, nudges her nose into his neck, and just breathes him in for awhile, trying to find whatever comfort she can in him being there. "If he did this, G? If he did this to them.. we gotta find a way out, baby. We gotta find a way out before he does it to us, too, I can't lose you, too."

"Yeah, we should've." Graham probably won't carry skipping that last dinner to his grave, but he feels bad about it right now, on Elise's behalf. He continues to pet her, nodding along and keeping up with the appropriate noises now, ones that sound sympathetic. Then she gets into the whole 'if he did this,' and he has to lean away a little, drawing his head back so he can find her eyes with his again. "First off, you dunno who did this." But they're probably both thinking the same person right now. "And secondly, baby."

No. Stop. Exhale and rethink this.

"Now is not the time to be thinking like that. Let's just deal with things as they come."

For once, Graham wasn't wrong, although she didn't really want to accept it. She wants to argue the point, and when he leans his head back so that he forces her to look at him again? It totally looks like she was going to do just that. But before the words manifest, she breathes out a heavy sigh, furrowing her brow as she accepts his point. For now, anyway. "So what do we do now then?" she picks at the collar of his shirt, smooths it down across his chest. It's the little things, trying to keep her hands occupied to keep herself from overthinking this, to keep herself from running out the door and heading straight to the Firefly Club to shoot Felix in the head. "What's the next step?"

"Not running off and shooting Felix in the head." Graham cannot stress this point enough, covers her fingers with his for a second so they're still, so she's hopefully paying attention when he drops his chin and lifts his brows: he knows Elise, gdi. "If this was Felix, you're never getting even for it, so you can let that go." They can talk about next steps once everyone has read and acknowledged the terms of their life from this point forward, that revenge is off the table.

There is a displeased wrinkling of Elise's freckled nose, a quiet sniffle as she plucks his shirt again. This is just a touch more aggressively, like if she can't shoot Felix in the head, she's going to take it out on Graham's shirt. It was probably a good thing that Graham hadn't yet taught Elise how to shoot the gun that he gifted her; she's smart enough to know that she doesn't stand a chance unless she could somehow get Felix alone. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "Fine, I won't do that. I know I can't do that," that doesn't mean she was going to let it go, at least not easily. "What else?"

This is Graham, winging it. "Wait till you hear from the cops. Tomorrow, we should start," doing hard things, "planning a funeral. Figuring out what to do with the motel." He takes her hands again, this time for more than a second, this time folding both of his around hers and squeezing them firmly. "I should call the club, let the boss know we're all right, take the temperature," try to figure out if there's a hit on Elise, too, come to think of it. It makes his tongue stick to the roof his mouth, makes his swallow thick when he hurries to add, "No matter what, baby, no matter how many times they ask you, you don't know anything about your parents having anything to do with Felix, right?"

That was Graham, winging it, and this was Elise, trying to hold it all together even as he talks of planning funerals. A few more tears dribble down her cheeks, and there was definitely a suggestion that this was only the beginning of her grief, but she doesn't break down again. Maybe it helps to have a plan, to know the next things that need to be done. Maybe it helped to know that she had him there. "Okay," she whispers, wincing her eyes shut at his last question, leaning to put her forehead to his own. "Right. I know," that she doesn't know, she means. "I won't say anything about that." If only because she knew what would happen if she did. At least she hasn't come to the conclusion yet that there could be a hit on her, too!

For a while, despite his best-laid-plans there to go get his phone and check in with work, Graham just stays here. The extra tears and the wince - his heart's all broken for Elise, and gathering her up to him seems important right now, along with dunking his nose in her hair and leaving it there. Nobody immediately breaks down the door and executes them both, so this can go on for a while, just kind of quietly coping.

Eventually, though. "Stay here," he requests with a few kisses, easing her off his lap and into the warm space on the couch. "I'm gonna make a few calls, order some food." He drags Mew-Mew down from the back of the couch, where she's been trying to get all up in the middle of this cuddling, and dumps her onto Elise.

It was certainly for the best that he stays, at least for awhile. Elise wasn't a crier, she didn't often just break down into nothing, but this was one of those moments where she just wasn't strong enough to hold it all together. So there'd be little bouts of tears, sudden onslaughts that she couldn't push back, wet soaking his shirt and his neck as she clings to him. She needed him then, this while of quietly coping, until eventually came and she was too exhausted to cry anymore anyway.

She comes off his lap and onto the spot made warm by his incredible ass with a slump. The kitten - who was far bigger than a kitten now, all things considered - was cradled in her arms, and she frowns into Mew-Mew's fur. "I.. I could just make something, I'll just make something," she says of food, already getting to her feet unsteadily, taking the kitten with her. Yes, he told her to stay here. No, she wasn't going to listen. "Go make your calls. I've got food, okay? Just let me make food."

"Nooo, no no." Graham has to wheel back around from the few steps he'd taken, crowding back into Elise's space to put hands on her shoulders, pressing on them with the intention that she'll, "Sit back down, baby. Just relax. I'll bring you your phone," so she has something to do. He gives the cat a quick scratch, then Elise a much less quick kiss, saying while he's close, "I can manage food for one night, El."

She also better get used to not having a thousand-and-one demands on her time and learn to chill. He's helping her ease into her new parent-free lifestyle!

"Take a shower or a bath or something, a'ight?"

Elise's shoulders are tense, far too tense, when he puts his hands there. In fact, he can probably feel the muscles spasming, the result of the way she was holding herself in the moment. "I can make food, Graham, I can.." she starts, definitely ready to fight, so it's probably a good thing that he put the cat in her arms as it sort of limits her Thai Kung Fu moves. She was about to argue more when he puts his lips to hers, and though she scowls against his mouth, the kiss seems to help her find some kind of chill. She deflates, sighing as she drops her head into a nod.

"Fine. Just.. fine," she closes her eyes, tips her head down to nuzzle Mew-Mew's neck with her nose, and then turns with the intention of going up to take a bath. "Maybe just order pizza, or.. would you call the hospital?" she looks back over to him, her gaze distant. Unfocused. "I don't.. I don't think I can go to work tomorrow." And then reality hits her, and she's wincing all over again. "The fucking Percocet," she groans.

Graham follows her to the stairs, nodding assurances that he can order pizza and call the hospital. His multi-faceted talent should ensure both of these little errands are accomplishable with minimal difficulties. Then comes the fucking Percocet, and he breathes in a deep breath, holding it in his lungs a few seconds before it gets released in a long hiss through his purty lips. "We'll figure out the Percocet. I'll fucking," something, think quickly, "buy some off Greg for now."

Buy from the dealer to give to the supplier. Felix has a helluva racket worked out.

It was a solution, at least for now. Elise didn't have the mental capacity to think through the logistics of buying from the guy who was going to end up selling the Percocet that Graham will buy from him - she barely makes it up the stairs and into their room before she finds her phone, reads something on the screen, and starts blubbering all over again.

And unfortunately for Graham, this would be the rest of his night after getting lucky all morning. But hey! It's not all bad! He gets to hang out with her in the bathtub - naked! And crying. But naked! It could be worse?