The Girl In The Handcuffs

Where Trouble Follows

You had an uncanny ability to attract trouble, it hung around you like a heavy fog, no matter how hard you tried to avoid it. It always seemed to find you, as if the very presence of you was enough to lure the scum of the earth to you, inviting them to try their luck. For every fight, for every scrape you got yourself into you, the universe seemed to side with you, at least to some extent, because while you couldn't escape the inevitable, you always managed to come out on top.

More or less.

However, despite your unfortunate circumstances, despite your determination to avoid the trouble that hung over you, every once and while, when you were feeling reckless, a little restless, you sought out the trouble. Your petite, sweet neighbor standing in front of you, eye black and bruises on her arms, was one of those times. It had been early, to early to have someone knocking so loudly on your door. The only reason you had even answered it was because of the soft crying, the almost inaudible sound of a woman holding back a sob.

You answered it, already knowing exactly who it was, this hadn't been the first time you'd heard that cry. It was, however, the first time she had come to you for help. Sophia, you had learned her name from hearing her husband scream it from next door. She was in her late forties, fair skinned woman with such a sweet disposition. The two of you had seldom interacted but she had always offered you a warm smile when she saw you outside. On more than one occasion you'd find a hot meal on your front porch after a long night out. She was almost motherly, as much as one could be without ever exchanging words.

When you had opened the door and saw her bruises, the blood dripping from her nose, you skipped the usual greetings you'd exchange with someone. Instead you ushered her inside, closing the door behind her, securing the lock in place. She cried full force now as you lead her to the couch, gently guiding her to sit down.

"I... I'm sorry, you must have still been sleeping, I just didn't know where to go and Edward... he was so angry he said he'd..."

You listened to her ramble on, her voice cracking with each quiet sob she released. You didn't say anything, not at first, not until you had found your first aid kit and sat  down on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Mrs. Randall..."

She was still talking, apologizing profusely for waking you up. You placed your hands over hers, giving her a small smile.

"Sophia, may I call you Sophia?"

She nodded, her talking ceased and you turned to open the first aid kit.

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't sleep much." You tried to lighten the mood but that only made her frown.

"That's not good, have you tried some warm milk?"

You laughed a little at that, dabbing some antiseptic on the cut above her eyebrow. She flinched away slightly but your laugh seemed to put her more at ease as she smiled.

"I'm afraid warm milk isn't strong enough, now about these bruises."

You sat down in front of her, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Tell me exactly how you got them."

~

Lucifer watched the stairs in the precinct, as if he expected you to walk down them at any moment, or at least have an officer walk you down them. Ever since your initial first meeting he'd been eager to see you once more. You were absolutely fascinating to him, and it wasn't like you had given him a number to call. He sighed a little when all he saw was Dan walk down the stairs, alone. He settled back in his seat, before an idea formed in his mind.