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Chris
July 2007
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Wed, Jul. 11th, 2007 04:11 am
July 17th, 2012
12:02 PM


"We're here," Chris announces, pulling into the driveway. Opening the door, she glances over to her sister, "Do you need help getting out?"

Moving slowly as she unbuckles her seatbelt, Caiti simply shakes her head. She hadn't spoken much since she got out of surgery and Chris hoped that it was just the events of the past few days and the lack of sleep, nothing more. Still, she wasn't sure of that.

Like every other hospital in the area, the one they had gone to had been overcrowded. Along with the usual emergencies and illnesses, they had to take in those who had survived the nuke and those who wouldn't. 'Treat 'em & street 'em' was the policy for anyone who didn't require a hospital stay. Since Chris wasn't about to leave Caiti's side, she was almost satisfied with this.

"Michelle," she calls, opening the door. "Jack?"

Silence. They were probably still at work.

Caiti stood beside her, not making a move to sit down and not saying anything.

"C'mon, I'll show you where the guest room is."




Walking down the stairs, Chris grips the bannister tightly, feeling as if her knees could give out at any moment. All the days without sleep had caught up with her and even though her mind was racing, she was sure once she laid down on the couch, she'd be out like a light.

At the bottom of the stairs she's about to grab her purse and look for her phone, see if anyone called. Until, that is, she notices the messages on Michelle's phone and remembers she hasn't told Ryan about Caiti yet.

Picking up the phone she walks over to the couch and collapses into it, dialing the numbers. Three rings and she hears her brother's voice.

"Hi, you've reached Ryan Chappelle, I am not avai--"


Chris sighs, dropping her arm and almost wondering if she should try another number or call again. This isn't really a message for voicemail but trying again seems like too much work and she's not sure if she can stay awake that long. At the beep she says, "Ryan, it's me. Listen, um, sorry I didn't call you sooner or that I'm even leaving this message on your machine instead of telling you in person..." she sighs, closing her eyes briefly and focuses.

"We found Caiti and she's fine. You were right," And she almost laughs at that even though it's not that funny. "You were right. Um ... it's a really long story. Caiti's sleeping right now but you can call back. This number. Ok. I love you. Bye."

Clicking the phone off, she stares at it for a minute, nagged by something she was forgetting. A persistent thought just at the back of her mind of something else she wanted to do.

Deciding if it was that important she'd remember it soon enough, Chris sets the phone down, kicks off her shoes and lies back on the couch. All she wants right now is to rest and not think about anything else for a while.

Current Mood: sleepy sleepy

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Wed, May. 23rd, 2007 10:45 pm

July 16th, 2012
9:15 PM



This was how it was going to be, this was the new normal. Like after her mom died but without the resignation. Like after her dad but now she didn't have anyone to be strong for, she didn't have anything to keep her from crumbling.

Getting up just to grab more kleenex, Chris drops back down on the bed, turning over her phone. Ryan had called earlier, leaving her another message, asking about Caiti and she hadn't called him back. She should turn the phone off, in case he calls again but she can't do that. Even though she knew Caiti was gone, Chris kept hoping for that phone call that would prove her wrong.

Current Music: Do you know what you took away / You took the blue out of the sky

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Wed, May. 16th, 2007 10:57 pm

July 16, 2012
1:52 AM


For the first time in her life, Chris was grateful for infomercials.

All the network channels, all the news channels were reporting on the nuke. The channels that weren't had updates scrolling at the bottom of the screen and the only exceptions were the kid channels and a few of the MTV channels. She tried watching MTV, they had changed their regular rotation for a carefully-selected roster of videos with songs that were "somber" enough to reflect the mood of the country. Some were the kind of cheesy pap that Chris had expected and could ignore but some weren't and halfway through the third (or fifth) video she changed the channel.

The only thing she wanted right now was to not think about anything. When they arrived at Michelle's house, it was after 10PM and she went straight upstairs to the guest room. When she wasn't crying, when she didn't have that nauseating feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, she was just tired.

But she couldn't sleep, not when the same questions kept playing in her mind. Where is Caiti? Is she still alive? How will I tell dad? Oh, God, I don't want to tell him. I have to tell Ryan too. Would she be in Milliways when I go back? Is she at a hospital? Is she hurt? Is she dying? Is she in pain? Please, just let it have been quick, if she has to be dead, let it have been quick.

Jack and Michelle had tried. They tried to get her to eat but she couldn't, she'd already been sick when she was at CTU. They tried to talk to her or comfort her but she had asked both to just leave her alone for a bit. They tried calling the hospitals but a million other people all over the country were trying the same thing tonight.

Pressing the mute button, she looked down at the phone she had in her hand. She'd come downstairs with the intention of calling her brother. That was an hour and a half ego and she still hadn't dialed the numbers, still hoping that if she didn't call it wouldn't be real and breaking down in hysterical sobs everytime she tried.

This time she made it, dialling the numbers on his cell phone. After three rings, she was ready to give up but then he answered.

Current Music: You're missing, when I close my eyes / You're missing when I see the sun rise

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Sun, May. 13th, 2007 02:40 am

July, 15, 2012
4:32pm


"Our intel on Hassan was wrong. He's wasn't in the building," Milo tells her as walks past to his station.

Chris glances up from her screen, narrowing her eyes. "What? Who was there?"

"Don't know," he says with a shrug, not looking at her, only at his computer. "The field teams just pulled up to the location in Valencia. If you have that new security packet, send it over to my screen."

"Yeah, all right," is the murmured reply. A few taps and it's done. Looking up over her screen, Chris has a clear into the conference room where Nadia and Bill are talking. From this distance, she can't hear anything and from their body language, it's hard to say what's happening. Chris focuses on her screen, frowning as she waits for the satellite to update with new images for their site in Valencia. Finally, it updates to the teams approaching the building but she knows this isn't real time, the lag is usually about 30 seconds.

After a week of consecutive attacks, there'd been nothing. Palmer's assassination didn't appear to be connected and even though they had leads on the groups involved, they hadn't made any headway. There was no reason for this calm, even if everyone wanted to believe it was over now.

The satellite images were updated, now she was looking at the empty CTU cars outside the building, the teams already inside.

Caiti had been too quiet these past few days. It was like before, after their father -- died, when she didn't talk and moved around the house like a ghost. Unlike last time, though, she was anxious to get back to her normal routine, wanting to go back home to DC as soon as possible. This time it was Chris who didn't want to let go.

She blinked at her screen, wondering if the lag was longer than usual or if --

It went blank. No image. From the mumblings around her, she wasn't the only one having problems.

"Is the network down?" Chris asks Milo and he just shakes his head in confusion.

Standing up from her desk, she walks over to the conference room where Nadia and Bill are standing silently, their backs turned to her. "Hey, I think there's a problem..."

The rest of the sentence is forgotten as she looks at the mushroom cloud filling the screen. She notices the words 'Valencia, California' at the bottom but refuses to believe them or the image. "What is that? Where is it from? When is it from?"

Nadia turns around, looking at her with shock and before she can answer Chris is heading back towards her station. She looks at the television screens in the bullpen, all turned to FoxNews, all showing the same image of a mushroom cloud, all saying the same thing. Forcing herself to move forward, she collapses clumsily into her chair, banging her elbow. Before she can even think about it, Chris is picking up the phone and dialing the numbers to her apartment.

"We're sorry, all circuits are busy right now. Please hang up and try again."

So she does. Twice more to the apartment, once more to Caiti's cell phone and always getting the same response. Slamming the phone down, she hears Milo's voice and she realizes he's probably talking to her but she keeps moving, out of her seat and she's not even sure where she's going to go. The only thing that keeps her from heading out that door and trying to get to Valencia is Milo telling her that someone is on the phone for her.

Turning back, she grabs the phone from him, "Caiti?"

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Tue, May. 8th, 2007 05:25 pm

I feel loved when...

The Five Love Languages

My Primary Love Language is Physical Touch

<th colspan="2">My Detailed Results:</th>
Physical Touch: 11
Quality Time: 8
Words of Affirmation: 6
Receiving Gifts: 5
Acts of Service: 0

About this quiz

Unhappiness in relationships is often due to the fact that we speak different love languages. It can be helpful to know what language you speak and what language those around you speak.

Tag 3 people so they can find out what their love language is.

Take the Quiz!
Check out the Book



Shocking. /deadpan

Current Mood: content content

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Sat, Apr. 28th, 2007 09:08 pm
Medical was quiet now, Chris was pretty sure she was the only one in the room. She didn't have a concussion and the doctor said the knot on her forehead should heal in a few days.

He also said she could stay in here for as long as she needed. As nice it would be to just curl up on one of the beds and take a nap, Chris knew she should probably go back to her desk. Eventually.

Current Mood: thoughtful thoughtful

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Tue, Apr. 17th, 2007 12:23 am
July 10, 2012
9:12 AM


After driving around, Chris and Jack found a drugstore nearby that was open. Armed with a short list of supplies, she went in while Jack stayed behind with their attacker.

The store itself was brightly lit and nearly empty, only a few employees inside. It didn't take long for Chris to find everything they needed, the large bottle of extra-strength aspirin being the most important item in their makeshift first-aid kit. Hurrying up to the front of the store, she was anxious to get out of here. It's not until she reached the front of the aisle that she notices the cop standing at the checkout desk, chatting with the clerk.

At least, Chris hopes it's just idle chatter. Ducking back into the aisle, she pretends to be checking out the various kinds of snack bars, even throwing a few into her basket. When she hears the doors of the store open, she peeks around again and watches the cop leave.

It's not until he's completely out of the store that she moves forward, walking up to the check-out desk and unloading her basket. Remembering that she might have a large bruise on her forehead, Chris is careful to keep her head down, pretending to be interested in the magazines nearby.

Once she's out of the store, Chris lets out a sigh of relief and hurries towards the van.

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Mon, Apr. 16th, 2007 07:11 pm
Chris ChapelleCollapse )

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Sun, Mar. 11th, 2007 12:26 am

July 9th
7:58 AM


Something was wrong.

The moment she stepped into CTU, before she could even think of why she felt that way, Chris knew something was wrong.

Maybe it was how subdued things seemed. Everyone seemed so quiet, just staring at the computer screens ahead of them. The only sounds coming from the odd phone call and the soft murmur of conversation between Doyle and a few of the other field agents. From the first attack on, CTU seemed to be in a constant swirl of activity. It didn't matter how early or how late, there were people bustling around and talking over each other and the only pause was when there was a news break announcing another attack.

It couldn't be that. She was certain of it. There was nothing on the television screens like that and she'd been listening to the news on her drive over. Nothing could have happened in the few minutes it took for her to get from her car to inside CTU, right?

She also knew that it was possible she was imagining this. Ever since the close call with New York, she hadn't been sleeping well. That Curtis had gone dark and hadn't been heard from in three days wasn't helping. After last night, Detroit, she was certain they'd hear from him and she knew they had tried. The Detroit field office had their hands full after the attack so even though they had his extraction plan ready, it didn't do them much good if they couldn't find him.

As Chris made her way to her desk, Chloe caught her eye for a moment before quickly looking back to the screen. Something in that small gesture, the frown and the worried furrow of her brows, told Chris everything.

"Chris. We need to talk," Buchanan stood by the door of the briefing room and she nodded in response but her gaze went past him. Nadia and Milo were in the room already and she hadn't noticed until just now how dark it was in there and the only light came from the television screen.

"It's Curtis," she heard herself say.

Bill responded, she wasn't quite sure what he said but later she'd remember something about how Curtis' mutilated body had already been recovered. Maybe he had even mentioned that Curtis had been drugged or maybe that's something she wanted to believe. There was no reaction to what was being said, nothing in his unfocused gaze that said he knew what was happening even as his head was pulled back and the blade came closer.

"...family was informed. The video is online, Nadia and Milo are working on a trace. I'm going to need you to contact the Detroit office and brief them on the case and whatever Curtis told you about what was happening there. Can you do that?"

They held up his head and even after everything, she still couldn't believe that had happened to someone she knew.

"Yeah," she said, looking back at Bill. "I can do that." Did they know that his squad had been ambushed in Iraq, his men killed just like that? Chris wondered how many people knew that about Curtis. When he told her a few weeks ago (they'd been talking about Iraq, the wars, the people, being there) she knew it wasn't something he mentioned to a lot of people but it wasn't hard to learn. Something like that was hard to hide.

Later, after she called Detroit, after she left a message for Jack, around lunch when most people were eating and Doyle was packing up Curtis' office, Chris went into the bathroom and cried. They had failed, she had failed. They couldn't save one agent, they couldn't save all the people before him and they would fail again.

Current Music: You gave your love to see in fields of red and autumn brown

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Thu, Mar. 1st, 2007 10:49 pm

July 7th

10:03AM


It came to her that maybe she didn't notice the difference because she was already used to the change. A few days into this and Chris was so used to the increased presence of police that she didn't pay much attention to the squad car in the parking lot. Not until she was inside and saw an officer sitting up front near the only entrance with a German Shepard parked at his feet. Even though Chris knew those dogs were trained to ignore a steak if it was thrown at them her first thought was still that a dog in the supermarket seemed weird.

Pushing her cart to a stop at the end of the pet food aisle, she looks down at the paper in her hand and up again at the slim cans of dog food. Her elderly neighbor, Mrs. Cruz, had a yippy gray Pomeranian that always seemed to take notice of Coco whenever their paths crossed. Today she had run into Ms. Cruz, sans Coco, and somehow she mentioned to her neighbor that she was going to the store. Between her seeming confusion that Chris wasn't having her "gentleman friend" go instead for her own safety and her fears of going to the store herself after "that awful thing in Houston" it came to Chris that she should probably offer to go for her. She almost felt guilty for not thinking of that sooner but after coming off working 15 hour days for a week, Chris was happy she had enough energy to go. She was getting sick of take-out.

With everything she needed in her cart, Chris made her way to the check-out aisle, idly wondering if it was always this empty at 10AM on a Saturday. While unloading the basket, she noticed a young man enter the store. Looking to be about twenty years old, he was dressed in what were probably designer clothes and had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder and an iPod in his pocket. He reminded her of Rohan and she'd guess he was South Asian, maybe Indian. Before she had much time to wonder why her mind had been so quick to categorize him and point out that not all the bombers were Middle Eastern. He was the right age and why did he have a bookbag on him on a Saturday and why didn't he have a cart?

But the latter things also made him too conspicuous and he'd come in alone and, so far, all of the bombers had worked in pairs.

As she passed him on the way out, he was giving the officer a working demonstration of both his iPod and cellphone while the dog sniffed his messenger bag.

Walking out the door, she realized how happy she'd be to crawl into bed till Jack came home. Once inside the car she turned on the radio and the first words she heard sent a cold chill through her.

"... in New York today. Authorities also confiscated plastic explosives similar to the ones used in previous attacks.

She sat there, frozen in her seat, unable to think clearly beyond her silent pleas that her family wasn't anywhere near the city today and her frustration with the reporter for not giving enough info.

"New York Police Commissioner Joyce says that he credits 'the work of our officers, collaboration between law enforcement agencies and the cooperation of the American Muslim community with preventing these attacks'. When informed, President Logan..."

Chris clicked off the radio, closing her eyes for a moment and knowing that she couldn't drive anywhere just yet. Even if crawling into bed and hiding there for the rest of the week seemed like the best idea she'd had in a long time.

Instead, she picked up her phone and dialed. They were ok, she knew that but right now if she was going to get out of this parking lot anytime soon, she needed to be sure. Needed to know that her niece was ok. "Hey, Ryan. Hi. Um. I just heard, on the news..."

Current Mood: worried worried
Current Music: But you see, it's not me, it's not my family

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