Chapter Text
Both of them are silent, for the most part, on the drive back to LUX. The first thing she does when she gets in the car is switch the radio on, cranking up the volume until it starts to aggravate the headache she can already tell is forming.
She welcomes the pain with open arms. It’s a much needed distraction from where she can still feel the staff that had taken her life. The agony is a distant memory now, dulled by the time she spent in Heaven, but her skin, her muscles, even her bones feel wrong. The roughness of her clothes as they brush against her body doesn’t help, a constant reminder with every breath that the skin there is new, that it doesn’t belong.
Her clothes, of course, are rough for a reason. If she looks down, she'll see the evidence of her death covering her shirt, soaked into every fibre, cuff, and crease. Her life’s blood, the same blood that had, just an hour ago, decorated her partner’s body as much as her own. But no longer. Now there is no red to stain his fingertips, no bruises to mar his perfect face. He is just as new as she is.
But she doesn’t look down. She doesn’t look anywhere, allowing the city to blur into nothing as Lucifer navigates his way through traffic. They are going too fast, that much is obvious. But that’s good, that’s normal. Normal too, is the humming she hears from beside her as one of Lucifer’s favourite songs begins to play on the radio. She clings to every note, drawing it inside herself, taking comfort in what she remembers, what is familiar.
And then she looks at him.
Lucifer is God.
It hits her all over again, just like it did when she watched him raise that sword. The sight of his siblings kneeling before him was like a lead weight in her chest; the undeniable proof that nothing was ever going to be the same again. A part of her had longed to run to him, to wrap him in her arms and never let go. He was alive, she was alive. They were safe, home, and together. She should have been overjoyed, thankful beyond words, and yet instead, dread unlike any she had ever known had flooded her body, leaving her frozen in place.
Lucifer is God.
She barely notices as Lucifer smoothly pulls them into another lane. Less than a minute later though, the ambulance a few rows behind switches on its lights. The vehicle tears past, sirens wailing, as the other cars scramble to get out of the way. But not them. Not them, because Lucifer had moved in time. Almost as if he knew.
She watches as a small smile graces the corners of his mouth. And instantly, she knows. He did know. He knew what was coming, and he changed things because of it. Something simple, something small… but also something that changed the future.
Every question she had before, back when this was only a possibility, suddenly seems ridiculous. Picking her own hours? Pulling Trixie out of school? Commuting? Her fingers dig into the skin of her knees as she bites down hard on her lip; the only thing she can think of doing to stop the rising hysteria bubbling in her stomach. What was she thinking? She might be a miracle, but she’s still human. How on earth is she supposed to be God’s consultant? It feels like only five minutes ago that she was trying to wrap her head around all of this existing, and now she’s supposed to help Lucifer control the universe? There’s taking it in turns, and then there is this. The Devil being her consultant, it seemed to pale in significance. She is the consultant now, yes, but Lucifer… Lucifer isn’t the Devil anymore.
Lucifer is God.
And he’s different. She could see that from the moment he landed back on Earth. There was this aura around him, like a glow she couldn’t quite see, a light that reminded her so much of his Father it makes her feel nauseous. Even now, he is the picture of serenity, the wind in his hair, his face content as he weaves in and out between cars with ease. It makes her think back, searching for a time when he had even come close to looking so untroubled. Her heart stings with the memory of waking up in bed together for the first time. The way he had laughed, the love in his eyes. She remembers thinking that morning that he was more at peace than she had ever seen him.
But it was nothing compared to this.
She has so many questions, but only one stands out amongst the rest. Just how different is he?
Right now, she isn’t sure she wants to know the answer. Because knowing means thinking about what lay ahead for them both, and that’s the last thing she wants to do. The Lucifer she knew, she just can’t picture him as God, despite spending all this time supporting his campaign to become Him. He was immature, impulsive, prone to fits of temper. How can someone like that possibly be God?
He couldn’t, and that’s what worries her. He had to have changed, and even worse, who knows what changes were still yet to come? The thought that she might never see her Lucifer again hurts more than her death ever could. Her partner, her lover, her friend. The man who cared so damn much, who made her laugh like no other. What if all that is gone now? What if the Lucifer she loved had burned up in Heaven, lost forever, only to be replaced by someone with his face, but not his soul?
What if he doesn’t even lov—
“I do,” Lucifer says abruptly, snapping her out of the whirlpool of panic currently dragging her under. “I love you, Chloe. Always.”
It should feel like relief.
It doesn’t.
“Did you just read my mind?” she asks nervously, as a whole new set of worries start to claim her.
After a moment, he nods. That sick feeling churns in her stomach, threatening to rise up her throat.
“Can you not?” she says, already afraid of the answer.
“I can try,” he replies, and that, at least, is something. He still wouldn’t lie to her.
“Good.” She turns to stare out of the window again, unable to look at him anymore. “I don’t want that.”
The thought comes unbidden, and although she tries with everything she has to stop it, she fails.
I don’t want any of this.
The steering wheel groans under Lucifer’s grip, and she knows then without a doubt that he’d heard her. Because of course he did.
Lucifer is God.