Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Finally!” The Goddess cheers to herself.

After squatting in some back alley for two hours waiting for Lucifer’s little pet human to leave some stupid restaurant, Chloe finally moved toward the exit. As she approached her car, the Goddess walked to the mouth of the alley to get a better view. She could feel her vessel’s heart beating faster, the closer the human got to the bomb. It had been quite some time since she’s caused a little chaos to her ex-husband’s toys, and with a single push of a button, she could finally start her plans to go home. Just the thought of it gave her a rush unlike any she had experienced before. She wondered if it was because of the instant gratification that awaited her. Or perhaps, it was the fact that she had a front row seat to the destruction, unlike before when she had unleashed floods and plagues from the comfort of her home. Whatever the reason, she was pleased.

The human slowly made her way across the street. The muscles in her face tighten into a smile. In a matter of seconds, it will be all over. The Goddess placed her thumb on the switch. The human stopped at her door, and began digging in her purse, searching for the keys no doubt. However, the longer the human searches, the more anxious the Goddess becomes. The feeling only grows when instead of opening the door, Chloe turns around to walk back to the valet. Goddess hears the jiggle of the keys from valet's hand, but she can’t stop the smile that slips from her face.

“You can’t kill her mom.”

Startled, the Goddess whips around and is met by the face of her first born. She glares at night sky. There’s no doubt in her mind that this wasn’t His doing. She takes small breath in before speaking, “Well of course I can," she laughs. "I just press this button-”, she demonstrates with her hand. 

“Mom, please." Amenadiel interrupts, his tone serious. "Give me the detonator.” 

“No." She replies before he can continue speaking. "This little bug is the reason Lucifer doesn’t want to go home. Squash her, problem solved.” It was so simple. She couldn’t understand why he was trying to stop her.

“Are you really going to make me force it from you?” Amenadiel shifts his feet, planting one behind the other. 

In response to his threat, she quickly places the detonator in her inside her jacket. “Trust me, you don’t want to do that.” 

“I can’t let you kill Chloe, Mom.” Amenadiel speaks, before marching up to her.

He reaches for the detonator, but the Goddess is faster. In the blink of an eye, his mother lifts him up in the air by his collar. Amenadiel’s eyes grow wide. His brain short-circuiting the moment his feet leave the ground. “Since when can you--”

“I tried to warn you.” The Goddess retrieves the detonator. “Apparently, human flesh can’t contain my divinity--” The sound of a revving car steals her attention away from her child. “Oh, here we go!” She places Amenadiel on the ground, as her manic smile returns. “Bomb’s in the car; so exciting!” She squeals, her smile wide.

The valet parks the car in front of Chloe. The world around her is silenced, her focus solely on Chloe. For a moment, she even forgets Amenadiel’s presence behind her.

Amenadiel runs in front her, blocking her view. “Mom stop!” Amenadiel yells. “I am trying to help you!” His eyes pleading with her. “I know Lucifer better than he knows himself, and if you kill Chloe, he won’t rest until he finds out who did it. And when he does, Mom, he will hate you forever.”

The Goddess has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on. One little human can’t mean more to him than his family.”

“He killed Uriel to protect her.” His voice quivers at Uriel's name.

“Well--” The Goddess pauses, glancing from Amenadiel to the valet handing Chloe her keys. “What’s so damn special about this one.” Her gaze returning to Amenadiel.

“That, I don’t know." His voice is calm, but his eyes betray his fear. "But, Mom, the bottom line is; If we want Luci to go home with us, then we need to make sure that it’s his decision to leave Chloe behind.”

At Amenadiel's words, she hesitates, searching his eyes for why he believes this to be true. When she can't find her answer, she sighs. “I’m glad you’re worried about your brother Amenadiel, but trust me. ” She places a hand of his cheek. “She is nothing, but a toy.”

Amenadiel growls in frustration. “No, Mom listen--!”

“That’s enough, Amenadiel! Now, move.” She orders.

Amenadiel's face goes hard. “No.” He reaches for the detonator. The Goddess grabs his hand, and throws him into the adjacent building. Falling to the alley floor, he grunts in pain as he rolls on the ground, unable to pick himself up. Stopping only when his mother places her foot on his chest.

“Stay down, Amenadiel.”

“Mom, please!" His voice losing all his previous strength. "You can’t take her away from him. He will spiral out of control. I know you don’t understand, but believe me! Doing this, killing her, will only push him away!”

Goddess stared down at her son, her face blank. For moment, he thinks he may have finally gotten through to her. Until her arm, detonator in hand, stretches out before of him. Her thumb covering the surface of the button.

Panicking, he tries to stand, but can't. The force of her foot is too strong for him to over come. Powerless, all he can do is sit and watch. And as the seconds go by, time slows. He’s not sure if his abilities have returned, or if his mind went into shock. But, he watches as the milliseconds get dragged out into hours, as his mother’s thumb pushes down on the button.

There's a click, and then his vision is consumed by light.

A shock wave pushes them against a building as screeching metal, follows.

The journey back to consciousness is an unpleasant one. He is woken by a burn in chest, his lungs demanding air. At first, he can only gasp as his chest refuses to rise, but with time it becomes easier. Cracking his eyes open, he is met with the immediate sensation to throw up. For despite laying on the ground, his vision is filled with blurry objects swing back and forth. His thoughts are cloudy, with only a vague sense that he needs to get up. And there's a constant ring in his ears muting all other sounds.

His body pleads with him to return to the sanctity of unconsciousness, but he is God’s mightiest warrior, and he perseveres.

Staggering to his feet, he spots his mother's still form behind him clutching her head. However, he pays her nothing more than a glance. He needs to get to Chloe, so on unsteady feet he makes his way to ground zero.

His vision is still unfocused, but he’s able to make out Chloe’s blurry figure. She was blown several feet away from her car, the now blackened frame still ablaze. As he makes his way towards her, the ringing in his ear stops, his mind clears, and his vision comes into focus. And...

He wished it hadn’t.

For what greeted him, was chaos: people screaming, others moaning in pain, the rest running in terror. Glass and debris littering the ground, the city block being lit by the orange glow from the flames. Nothing, but chaos surrounded him, chaos that his mother willingly chose to commit. Nausea threatens him once more. 

Taking a deep breath, he forces his mind to focus. He needs to get to Chloe, and he does. But it’s strange…

Her placement on the ground doesn’t make any sense. She was blown roughly six feet from the trunk of her car. But, shouldn’t she be inside the flaming vehicle? With him and his mom’s arguing, Chloe had more than enough time to get inside it. By all means, she should be dead, burnt to a crisp.

Amenadiel shakes his head once more. Focus, he tells himself. Attend to Chloe first, worry about the logic later.

Bending down to exam her, her once porcelain skin is now darken by burns, cuts, and soot. Amenadiel reaches for her pulse. It’s beating hard and fast. He doesn’t know much about human anatomy or how to treat wounds, but he has a basic understanding. He checks to make sure she's breathing, before looks for bleeding. He finds no significant bleeding, just a few small cuts and gashes on her body. However, his heart plummets when he checks her head. Her hair is soared in blood from a gash she must have obtained from the impact with the ground. He quickly removes his jacket, and uses it to apply pressure to the wound.

Looking around, he yells for someone to call an ambulance. He’s not sure if anyone heard him, but prays they did.

Suddenly, he hears a scream from behind him. It’s his mother’s voice. Turning his head, he sees her cradling a body to her chest. She closer to the flaming vehicle than Amenadiel and Chloe.

"Amenadiel!" She cries.

He finds himself unable to respond as his eyes focus on the body clutched between her arms. There's voice yelling at him in his head, insisting that he knows this person, but he can’t connect the dots.

Or perhaps...he’s still in shock.

Because despite the person’s charred appearance, it’s length and size indicate that the body is a male. The clothes are tattered and covered in soot, but it's clearly a suit...

A suit similar to what he saw Lucifer wearing earlier…

Because it is Lucifer, his mind tells him. Amenadiel continues to stare at them, confused as to why he removed his angelic glamour, his “Devil Face” as he calls it, during the explosion. Except, that can’t be right. Lucifer’s demonic appearance doesn’t have a head of hair. And if it isn’t is his “Devil Face”, then that would mean...

"Amenadiel! What do I do?" His mother yells at him again, pleading with him, but he doesn’t know. He’s never had to treat a burn wound before.

"I don't know." he whispers softy.

"What?" She yells again, unable to hear him.

"Check his pulse." His voice cracks. "On his neck, beneath his jaw, p-place fingers and wait for a beat." He watches she places her shaky hands on Lucifer's neck, waits.

Amenadiel doesn't realize that he's holding his breath until she answers yells back.

"I-I can't find it."

The world begins to spin again.

"Amenadiel! Come here and help me!"

He doesn't move.

"Amenadiel!"

It’s Chloe’s groaning that snaps him back to the present. Chloe. He has to help Chloe. Tearing his eyes away from his mother, he focused on her, and nothing else. His mother keeps screaming at him, but he tunes her out.

For he knows there’s nothing left to do.

Lucifer’s gone.

Chapter Text

Dan sits on his couch at home with Trixie curled into his side. It was past her bedtime, but she wanted to watch Body Bags 3 and he couldn’t say no. The movie probably wasn’t the most…appropriate for Trixie’s age, but with a few conversations sprinkled here and there, he couldn’t see the harm in it. Besides, no one said anything about telling Chloe. It was their little secret. And well, it wouldn’t be the first secret he’s kept.

If Dan’s honest with himself, he couldn’t have said yes fast enough when Trixie pleaded to watch. He had spent the whole afternoon debating with himself whether he should tell Trixie about his date with Charlotte.

He should probably wait, it was only one date after all. One magical, amazing date. God, he hasn’t felt this good—this happy—in such a long time.

They didn’t do much other than talk. (Well, they had sex, but that was more of a bonus.) But, their conversation was easy and engaging, no awkward pauses, or bored polite smiles. Just him and her talking, non-stop. They talked about everything from their children to even their exes. Wasn’t that supposed to be taboo or something? Or maybe, it was a sign. A sign that this could be something serious. Either way, Charlotte was an amazing person, and he wanted to tell Trixie. He could see them getting alone quite nicely. The problem was, he just didn’t know how to do it. Should he tell Trixie now? Or wait? What if it upsets her? What if—

“Daddy!” Trixie yells, knocking him out of his thoughts.

“Hm, what is it Monkey?” Dan asks, as he turns to his daughter.

“Your phone’s ringing.” Trixie held out before him. 

Taking it from her hand, he looked at the number. He didn’t recognize it, but answered anyway.“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Isabella from UCLA Medical Center.”His ears rang at the name. “Is this Daniel Espinoza?” He removes his arm from Trixie’s side.

“Yes?”

“Do you know a Ms. Chloe Decker?” 

His stomach drops. “Yes, she’s m—” Dan glances at Trixie. “—yes. Why what’s happened?”

“Ms. Decker has you listed as one of her emergency contacts. She has been in an accident and is—”

“W-what.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“I—Where was she taken?”

“She been transported to UCLA Medical Center for treatment, and is being prepped for surgery—”

“Surgery?”

“—Yes sir, we just need your verbal consent.”

“Yes, do whatever you have to. I’ll be over the moment I can.”

Isabella hangs up, but Dan remains frozen, recalling the day’s events. He knows Chloe and Lucifer had arrested The Coopers this morning, then spent the rest of the day filling out paperwork. He doesn’t remember her mentioning any plans for this evening. Did she have another open case he didn’t know about? He shakes his mind clear, the how and why doesn’t matter. He just needs to get to the hospital now, but doesn’t want to scare Trixie. At least, not until he knows more.

“Daddy?” Trixie calls as she pulls on his sleeve. “Do you have to go to work?”

Settling back into the couch, he looks at his daughter. She’s bundled up in her sushi themed blanket and matching pajama set. Her form deflates as he tugs her closer. “Yeah, Monkey. Daddy’s…Daddy’s got to go to work, but I’m gonna call your Abuelos to come over and spend the night. How does that sound?”

Trixie drops her head to the floor. Guilt swells up in his gut. Since his demotion, he had hoped to never see that look on her face again. The one that screamed disappointment and lacked surprise. As if, this was just expected behavior of him.

“Will you be home to take me to school tomorrow?” She mumbles.

“…I don’t know, Monkey.” Trixie sinks even further in the cushion.

“Hey, look at me.” Dan softly asks, lifting her into his lap. “I love you, Monkey. And, I wouldn’t leave if this wasn’t really important, okay?” He strains his ears, but misses her mumbled reply. “I know that I wasn’t around as much as I should have, before. But this isn’t that, okay.”

“I know, Daddy.” Trixie replies, finally meeting his eyes.

“That’s my girl. Now, how about you finish the movie while I go call them?”

Setting her back down on the couch, Dan walks to the kitchen. It’s 11:18pm. The drive from his parent’s house to his apartment is roughly 20 minutes. And the ride from here to the hospital is an hour-drive. Once he knows about Chloe’s condition, he can plan further.

________________________

In the end, Dan arrives around 1:12am. The hospital is large with several hallways that leave him feeling like a mouse in maze. It takes him ten minutes to find the registration desk, and another fifteen to fill out Chloe’s paperwork. When he hands it in, the nurse tells him her room number, and he nearly collapses at mention of her room number.

Room 421 in the Neurocritical Intensive Care Unit.

Neuro, as in neurology, the study of the human brain and nervous system. To make matters worse, she’s in an ICU. Swallowing down a wave of panic, he thanks her and heads for the elevators. The ride up is a solemn one. Alone without any distractions, his mind wanders to all the victims he’s seen. Their lives forever changed by a single event.

When the elevator doors open, he walks down the hall repeating her room number in his head on loop.

The unit is rather small. There’s a large nurse’s station in the middle with four patient rooms on the right and five rooms on the left. Each room is marked by a number protruding from the ceiling and are separated by a curtain. Chloe’s room is the one in the far-right corner.

Once he reaches her room, he hesitates. Fear keeping him rooted to the tiled floor. He can’t—he’s not ready. He’s not ready see her broken, to lose her completely, to be a single parent.

He rubs the heel of hands against eyes, and takes a deep breath in. He forces his brain to stop thinking. There’s no point in torturing himself with possibilities that may not exist, when she’s right there. So, he slides back the curtains. And…

It’s bad, it looks really bad.

Walking in, he almost doesn’t see her. Her still form is buried beneath thousands of wires and tubes connected to several machines around her bedside. The parts of her arms and legs that aren’t hidden by equipment, are covered in burns of varying severity. It’s all too much. The room starts to spin, and he consciously has to remind himself to breath.

It’s only when Dan reaches the foot of Chloe bed does he realize that he’s not alone in the room. Sitting in the corner by her IV pole, is Amenadiel.

“Amenadiel?” His voice cracks. The other man doesn’t reply, or give any acknowledgment to his presence. He just stares at Chloe’s vitals.

Dan’s mind freezes, trying to process the sight before him. He doesn’t even think they’ve met before, unless. “Is Lucifer here?” He questions.

Amenadiel’s eyes blink rapidly at the mention of his brother, however, he is otherwise motionless. Dan grips Chloe’s bed rails. For her to be this bad, they must have been working a case. Which would mean Lucifer has to be crawling around here somewhere, right? Or hunting down whoever did this. He must have  called his brother to watch her for him. But, why wouldn’t he have called Dan instead?

“Amenadiel!” Dan yells with a frustrated growl. “Hey, have the doctors said anything? Did they tell you what happened?”

Amenadiel stayed frozen.

“Come on man, this is not the time to mess with me!” His eyes begin to burn, as his heart hammers in his chest. Frustrated, Dan squeezes past a machine, and closes his hand on Amenadiel’s shoulder. He jumps at the contact, but finally turns his head to meet Dan’s eyes. “Is she—” His voice cracks. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Slowly, Amenadiel stands. Free of whatever trance he was in, he pulls Dan into a tight embrace. “I don’t know. Let me go find her nurse, okay?” Amenadiel replies softly, like Dan would break. Who knows, maybe he would.

Dan nods, and Amenadiel leaves. With the now vacated seat, Dan steals it for himself and places his head between his thighs and tries to control his breathing.

A few minutes later, Chloe’s nurse, Bethany, walks in and introduces herself. Her eyes are kind and her smile soft. She informs him that Chloe’s doctor will see him shortly and asks if he needs anything. He tells her no and watches her as she leaves. He continues to stare at the door after she’s gone, waiting for Amenadiel to walk back in.

But he never does.

And Dan struggles to breath.

Chapter Text

Dan’s never been close to drowning before, but he wonders if this is what it feels like. Your head bobbing at the water’s surface. Something you get a breath of air, others a mouthful of sea water. Searching for someone to keep you afloat, only to find no one. He lost track of how many times he dialed Amenadiel's number. It's ringing seemly endless, until the robotic voice played and he felt his head dip deeper into the ocean's abyss  Eventually, he stops and tries to call Lucifer. When he doesn’t answer, the sinking sensation grows worse.

He had considered calling Penelope, but he preferred to able to answer at least some of her questions, other than, ‘I don’t know’:

‘What happened?’

I don’t know.

‘How is she?’

 I don’t know.

‘Will she be okay?’

I don’t know.

He's shaken out of his thoughts by Chloe’s doctor knocking on the wall. A glance at his ID badge reveals his name to be Dr. Anthony Monroe. He appears to be a male of Asian descendant roughly in his mid-forties. He's dressed in a navy-blue suit with a crisp white lab coat, jet black hair gelled down in the front, clean shaven, and has a sympathetic look in his eyes. He carries an air of experienced confidence and calm. Dan can’t find a single flaw with the other man, yet finds himself questioning the doctor’s expertise.

Is he too old? Is he too young? How many similar cases has he treated? What’s his success rate? Is there a better doctor? Should Chloe be moved to a better hospital? Is there a better hospital?

He knows he’s being unfair. As a detective, Dan has had his judgement constantly questioned by a grieving family. So, when the doctor introduces himself, Dan shakes his hand with his lips sealed shut.

“Mr. Espinoza correct?” Dr. Monroe asks as he releases Dan’s hand.

“Yes. I’m her ex-husband. We-we’re friends, tho.” Dan’s eyes dart to Chloe, then back to the doctor. “Do you know what happened?”

Dr. Monroe sighs, “Ms. Decker appears to have been in a car accident that caught fire. Her EMTs suspect that she may have been ejected from the vehicle during the incident. However, I highly recommend talking to the police, for our information is very limited and could be wrong.” He pauses, letting Dan soak in the information. When Dan remains quiet, he continues. “She has sustained multiple first and second degree burns with minor lacerations to the arms and legs. Upon arrival, she was taken into surgery to remove the shrapnel embedded in her legs. The operation was successful with no major damage. However, she suffered trauma to the back of the head that broke skin.” Dan quickly sucks in air. “A CT scan revealed that there was no sign of hemorrhaging in the brain, or damage to the skull. But, we suspect she has a concussion with minor swelling to the brain."

“That sounds bad.” Dan’s voice trembles.

“Swelling of the brain is common with most head injuries, however, it is indicative of brain damage. Now, this damage could be minor with no lasting effects, or it could be more severe. We won’t know the severity until she wakes, or if the swelling continues to grow overnight. As of this moment, all her injuries appear to be non-life-threatening, but she will need to stay in the hospital as she recovers. The plan is to observe her overnight to see if her condition worsens. If her status doesn’t change and she wakes, we’ll do mental assessment and hopefully have her moved to the step-down unit.”

Speechless, Dan nods his head. The doctor continues to talk about medications and other treatments they’re giving her, but he has a hard time focusing.

Once Dr. Monroe leaves, Dan’s legs collapse, sending him back into his seat as relief spreads throughout his body. The weight constricting his chest is gone, and his heart begins to slow. Ignoring sleep’s plead, with a shaky hand Dan pulls his phone from his pocket. He dials Penelope’s number, and waits. As the phone rings, he rehearses his words only to receive voicemail once more. Swallowing his rage at the cursed robotic voice, he debates leaving a message. In the end he doesn’t, choosing to call Lucifer instead.

By the fourth ring, Dan uses every ounce of self-control to not throw his phone against the wall.

Giving up on Lucifer, he moves onto Maze. He's startled when she answers.

"Yeah?" Maze answers in a pleasant tone that makes him think she’s smiling. And before he can ask if she’s on a bounty, a man’s scream ripples from his speaker.

‘Definitely a bounty’, he thinks to himself.

There’s a brief silence when he realizes she’s waiting for him to respond. His throat constricts at the thought speaking the words into existence.

"Uhh hello?" Annoyance rising in her voice the longer he chokes. "Look Dan, I'm bus--."

"Chloe's in the hospital." He blurts out, voice quivering, before she can hang up.

"What?" 

"She was in some kind of car accident. The doctor says she's stable for now, but they won't know for sure until she wakes. Maze--."

He's interrupted by another wail from her presumed bounty, before she hangs up. 

And Dan can't breath.

Gasping for air, he tries to not let the hurt seep into his skin, hoping that it’s her version of ‘I’m on my way’. And maybe it is. From putting him naked onto his ex-wife’s bed, to helping a conman in Canada, Maze has always been a mystery to him. While Lucifer is driven by his desires, much like the personification of Freud’s psyche theory of the id, Maze is not. He doesn’t know what drives her. She partakes in her desires but is not controlled by them. She’s more conscious to other’s feelings but doesn’t care about them. And yet, she has a great friendship with his eight-year-old daughter and is roommates with his “goody two shoes” cop of an ex-wife.

Like he said, she’s a mystery.

Mercifully, Maze arrives ten minutes later. He's not sure if he wants to yell or hug her. The feeling quickly vanishes once he gotten a good look at her. Eyes wide, she creeps in slowly. Her hair is wind swept, and her chest rapidly expands and contracts. Her fists curl until their white tightly to her sides. Dan surprised when he doesn’t see her knives in them.

There’s a moment, when her face scrunches and her eyes blink that he thinks she’s going to cry, then it morphs into rage.

“Where is he,” she spits out like bile on her tongue. “Does he know?” Her whole body trembling.

“Who?” Dan asks.

“Lucifer!” she barks as she stalks towards him.

“No – I don’t know.” The venom in her voice making him shudder. “I tried calling him, but he’s not answering.”

Maze’s eyes scan him before settling back on Chloe. “Don’t worry, I’m going to make sure she pays for this.” Maze mutters before heading to the door, forcing Dan to jump up to stop her.

“Who? What is going on?!” Frustration from the past three hours finding its way into his voice.

“That’s what I want to know.” A new voice interrupts.

The curtain behind Maze is peeled back to reveal the night’s on-call Detectives’ Maria Sanchez and Tim Burke.

Despite the late hour, Sanchez stands tall in her dark combat boots, black jeans and dark peach blouse. Her hair hangs loose by her shoulders in tight curls. The only sign of her fatigue is the dull look in her eyes. Burke, on the other hand, isn’t fairing as well. Dark bags hang beneath his eyes and a can of Monster in his hand. As for his attire, well, Lucifer would say his gray suit was wearing him instead of him wearing the suit.

“How’s she doin’?” Burke asks, as he took a sip.

“She’s stable…for now. But, we won’t know for sure ‘til tomorrow.” Dan replies solemnly.

 Maze’s gaze flickers between the newcomers and Dan. “You all know each other?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Dan shakes his head, as if it would wake him. “This is Detective Maria Sanchez and her partner Detective Tim Burke.”

“We’re investigating Decker’s case.” Sanchez adds.

Dan’s eyes light up. He had suspected as much, but now he has confirmation and with it, possible answers. “And this” pointing to his right “is Mazikeen Smith-”

“Bounty hunter, right?” Sanchez interrupts, lifting an eyebrow.

“And her roommate. So, why don’t you start by explaining how this happened.” Maze adds, while stalking forward into Sanchez’s face.

“Maze calm down.” Dan warns.

[*]

Sanchez takes a once over of Mazikeen. She’s never interacted with the bounty hunter before, only seen her in passing. If she thinks getting in her face is going to intimidate her, then Mazikeen isn’t going to be pleased. She’s been a cop in a man’s world for ten years and a detective for five, puffing up her chest does little for her.

“It was a car accident of some kind, right? Hit and ran or maybe a drunk driver?” Dan asks, trying to defuse the tension in the air.

“We can’t disclose any information at this time, but we do suspect foul play.” Sanchez calmly replies.

Mazikeen huffs, before retreating to Decker’s bedside. And Sanchez doesn’t miss Dan clenching his jaw.

It’s only a matter of time, before they find out. But, this way she remains in control of the conversation and doesn’t show her hand just yet. The less info she gives them, the greater the chance for them to slip up and reveal something they shouldn’t know.

“Look, we just want to ask a few questions first, and then we’ll get into theories.” Burke, ever the peace keeper, butts in.

Mazikeen grabs a chair shoved in the corner to the left of the bed, and beings to drag it against the tiles, before thinking better of it. Dan takes a seat, as well. With them out of the way, Sanchez and Burke get a clear view of Decker. With the crime scene still fresh in her mind, she compares Decker to the mangled burnt corpse left behind.

It could have worse, so much worse.

Burke clears his throat, cluing her into the lull in the conversation. Right, questions.

“So, where were you between the hours of 9 to 11:30 last night?”

“At home with Trixie.” Dan replies calmly.

She’s inclined to believe him, but wasn’t it Decker’s night to have Trixie? Hm, she pockets the question for later.

Mazikeen crosses her arms, “Hunting.”

Despite her obvious impatience, Sanchez can tell she’s telling the truth. 

“Do you know what she was doing out?” Sanchez continues.

“No.” Mazikeen replies simply.

“I didn’t even know she went out.” Dan answers.

Another red flag from Espinoza.

“Decker ever come crossed as worried, maybe paranoid?”

“No more than her usual naggy self,” Mazikeen answers.

Dan doesn’t reply right away, choosing to fiddle the hem of his shirt instead. “You think it was hit?” It’s more of a statement than a question.

She lets the silence answer for her.

“Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to attack Chloe?” Burke asks.

Dan shrugs, “someone who made parole?” His voice is quiet, and his eyes are in a daze.

Mazikeen is one who remain silent this time. Frozen with the murderous glint in her eyes. She knows more than she’s letting on.

Her patience has worn thin, however, and Mazikeen stands. “Either you tell me what happen, or I’m going to find out myself.”

She can’t let Mazikeen leave. She knows something, so Sanchez gives in.

“Around 8pm, Decker went downtown to eat. A few hours later, a bomb attached to her car detonated and she was caught in the explosion. “

Dan’s eyes widen, and the murderous glint in Mazikeen’s eyes only brightens. He’s genuinely shocked, but she isn’t.

“So, I’m going to ask you again. Do you know of anyone who would want to harm Detective Decker?”

Mazikeen looks her dead in the eyes and replies, “No.”

Liar.

However, she’s not going to get anymore than that, and decides to move on.

“Espinoza, if I recall it’s Decker’s week to watch Trixie, and yet you say you were watching her? And that would be fine if you were babysitting for her, but you said that you didn’t know she was going out. Why is that? Did you just not ask? Or were you not watching Trixie, after all?”

“What? No! I mean, yes it was Chloe’s week to have Trixie, but we scheduled that I would have her weeks ago!”

“Why?”

“Because…” Dan grows pale.

“Espinoza?”

“Dan?”

“Oh my god, what time is?” He asks out of breath, as he franticly pulls out his phone. “Shit!”

“Dan! What’s going on.” Mazikeen yells.

He buries his hands in his hair. “Perry’s trial is today. He must have planted bomb as revenge. And that’s why Penelope didn’t answer, because she’s on a plane heading here”.

“Perry?” Mazikeen asks, confused.

Burke sighs, “Deputy Warden Perry Smith, the man arrest for conspiracy of murder of Officer John Decker.”

The timing would be a Hell of a coincident if Smith wasn’t somehow involved. And by looking around, Sanchez can tell she’s not the only one thinking it, except for Mazikeen. She looks surprised, as if she would have suspected someone else. Perhaps the person she’s hiding. But why?

Whatever the reason, Mazikeen looks less likely to bolt. Maybe she can finally get some real answer out of her.

But before Sanchez could interrogate further, a rush of footsteps flow behind her. Turning around, she expects to be greeted by a nurse yelling at them for making too much noise or for having the lights on. Instead she gets an emotionally devastated Ella Lopez. Her body is racked with tremors as her arms wrap around her waist to keep herself whole. Her face is red and blotchy with bloodshot eyes and tears consistently flowing down her face. She takes a quick glance at Chloe before driving into Dan’s arms, crying.

“Ella, Chloe’s gonna be okay.” Dan replies softly.

Ellla shakes her head. “It was so horrible.” She mumbles into his shirt.

“The crime scene?” He asks.

Sanchez sighs. He doesn’t even know the half it.

Maze growls. “Is there something you’d like to tell us, Detective Sanchez.”

Sanchez pinches the space between her eyes. In an attempt to take control of the conversation, Tim cuts her off before she can answer. "Can you think of any other enemies they might have had?"

The moment Espinoza and Smith's head dart to her partner, she's confused. The atmosphere darkens with a silence that deafening. As if they uttered a word, their world would shatter.

"They?" Dan questions, his voice quiet, eyes wide.

Shit. Sanchez closes her eyes in defeat.

“There was a second victim, who died at the scene.” Tim replies, staring down at his can.

“Who.” Someone asks, she’s not sure who.

She hates her job, sometimes.

“Lucifer Morningstar died on impact.”

She quickly turned around before she could see their faces, and nudged her partner to follow her out. They wouldn’t get any answers out of them now. Asnd as she walks down the hall, she pretends she doesn’t hear their cries.