Dark Passenger ~ Chris Cerulli Fan Fiction *Short Story* {Completed}

Part 4

Chapter Four

Katrina. Katrina Hunter.

Chris's Point Of View...

I was lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if I should go and try to find Arachne.

It was only half past one, she'd probably still be out...but I didn't know for certain if she was. Or whether or not she was a client...or even if she even wanted to see me, because lets face it: it wasn't exactly unlikely that she'd spit in my face and walk away.

Metaphorically...at least, I hoped so.

I pulled the phone out of the pockets of my sweatpants, seeing that it was actually closer to two and realising that I'd most likely missed her. But there was always tomorrow.

And knowing me, I'd chicken out of going to find her then too.

Sighing, I got up and got ready to go to bed, making a detour to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, absently wondering where Ricky was. He had the spare key to the front door, so I knee he'd be able to get in whenever he got back, but unless he was out with someone, it was unusual for him to be out so late.

Shrugging it off, I was at the bottom of the stairs when there doorbell rang, repeatedly. I yanked the door open, ready to shout at whoever it was for being so annoying so late at night, when Ricky barged past me, Arachne limp in his arms:

"She got beat up, needs help." he explained.

I followed him into the kitchen where he sat her on the counter, starting to rumage around in the freezer and looking pissed:

"Where the fuck did he get pepper-spray from anyway?" he snapped.

"Mine" Arachne offered weakly, her voice sounding like she had a terrible throat-ache: "He got before I could use it."

"Do you know how to treat it?"

"Soap, shampoo or preferably no-tears shampoo and water. Ice for the cuts, and can I please have a glass of water for my throat?" she croaked.

"Of course." I said, pressing the glass I hadn't put down into her hand, noting that she didn't seem able to see.

"Chris?" she asked, sounding a little scared.

"I'm right here: what do you need?" I asked as Ricky walked out, looking for the no-tears shampoo I bought while we were last on tour; it was the only one I could find and I hadn't used it since, but right now I was kind of thankful for it.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you."

"I deserved it, don't you worry." I told her, taking her free hand while guiding the glass up to her lips, knowing that she hadn't actually drunk any yet.

"Thank you." she said, her voice sounding a little better already even as Ricky walked back in:

"Okay, antiseptic for your lip and eyebrow, Chris can you get some warm water and I've got the no-tears shampoo."

"Sure." I filled an unused salad bowl with warm water, putting it on the counter next to Arachne so Ricky could start washing her eyes. She whimpered, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, taking her hands in mine to try and offer some comfort.

She offered me a weak smile, but I really don't think I did any good. It took Ricky ten minutes to be done washing the pepper-spray off of her eyes to his satisfaction, with her taking sips of her water every now and then. He dabbed some antiseptic on her cuts while I got her some ice for her split lip.