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Do you know I’d still pick the phone up if you called?
“D-detective,” Lucifer’s voice stutters into Chloe’s ear within seconds of her picking up the phone. The clock on the wall reads twenty past two in the morning and she can hear muffled party noises in the background.
“Lucifer,” she whispers.
“I-I didn’t think y-you’d pick up,” he says, voice stuttering again. Lucifer’s voice never stutters.
“What? I’ll always answer your call Lucifer. What’s wrong?” She sits up in bed, rubbing some of the sleep from her eyes, and scoots to the headboard to lean against it.
“Ah, Detective! Why d’ya think some…ting’s wrong?” he slurs. Chloe immediately knows that he is drunk. Which is…concerning, to say the least, considering he is the actual Devil and how much alcohol he would have to consume to get past his celestial constitution to get him drunk enough that he’s slurring his words.
“Because you’re calling me—drunk—in the middle of the night, Lucifer. You’re never drunk, and you never call me in the middle of the night.” Chloe says softly, trying to not let too much of her worry seep into her voice.
“I jus wanted to talk to you, ‘tective,” he whispers, sadness tainting his voice.
“In the middle of the night?” she asks, teasing connotations bleeding through.
“Always wanna talk t’you, ‘tective,” he says, and Chloe’s heart stops.
He stutters past his admission a moment later and begins rambling about various illicit acts that he was getting up to, while Chloe did her best to reign in her building jealousy because, as selfish as she felt, Lucifer was hiding at his own party, talking to her. Not engaging in those illicit acts he rambled about, but rather talking to her. It had to mean something somewhere along the way.
Eventually, Lucifer’s voice fades out and it’s just the muffled sounds of the party behind him. Chloe thinks he’s fallen asleep, but then he says it.
“I miss you, Chloe.”
It’s quiet enough that she just barely hears it, but she knows he said it. So, she responds honestly.
“I miss you too, Lucifer.”
She hears his intake of breath before he says, “I must go, take care.” The line goes dead and Chloe sighs before setting her phone down and plugging it back into the charger. She lays back down and tries to dampen the feeling of disappointment in her chest.
After all, he just spent the last almost hour of his party talking to her instead of partying. It must count for something.
___
When Chloe sees Lucifer at the precinct the following morning, he doesn’t mention the phone call. So neither does she.
___
On the fourth day, Chloe is settling into bed when she hears her phone vibrate quickly with a text message notification. It’s half past eleven, a little later than when she usually goes to bed, and she suspects the message is Dan confirming the pick-up for Trixie the next day. Surprise takes her off guard though.
Detective
Are you there?
Chloe can’t stop the way her heart skips a beat, and she hates it because honestly, how cliché is that? But even more so than that, Lucifer is with Eve and Chloe needs to make a conscious effort at moving on at some point. She knows that. She should pay attention to the red flags that are starting to really plant themselves at the forefront of her mind because this is the fourth night in a row that Lucifer has contacted her much later than usual and, if his pattern persists, it’s the fourth night in a row that he is relatively inebriated as well. And he still hasn’t said a word about the phone calls to her face.
So she also knows that she should just put the phone down and go to bed when the next text comes through.
Apologies, Detective. I suppose I’ve been drinking again and was feeling…something. Too much. You always help when I’m feeling too much. Apologies again. Sleep well.
She doesn’t though. Instead, she calls him this time.
The call doesn’t even make it through an entire ring sequence before she hears Lucifer breathe, “Chloe?” on the other end of the line.
“Hi,” she whispers. She’s nervous and she doesn’t know why. She should gently confront Lucifer, find out why he’s been calling her and not Eve, but she can’t deny that she is reveling in this secret attention he is giving her.
She doesn’t like that though. It makes her feel…weird. It’s not right.
Still…she can’t bring herself to stop. She wants from him whatever he’s willing to give her, and if that’s drunken phone calls then…she supposes she can live with that.
“I hope I d-didn’t wake you,” he hiccups a bit through his sentence, but overall holds it together well.
“No, no, I was still up. I just hadn’t had a chance to text you back.”
“Oh, my apologies, Detective, really, I can go,” he says, a deeper sadness filling his voice than she has heard in a while.
Chloe furrows her eyebrows. “No, Lucifer, talk to me. You said you’re feeling…things. What’s wrong?”
The other end of the line is silent save for his light breathing; the only sign she has that he is still there. Then, a soft sniffle.
“I…I’m sad, Detective.” Another sniffle comes across the line. Chloe’s heart clenches in her chest. She knows she’s contributed to his sadness, and it shatters her heart.
I want you to drunk text me.
“I’m so sorry, Lucifer,” Chloe says around a lump in her throat, her eyes warming with tears.
Saying that you’re sorry.
“Bloody hell, Detective, now I’ve went and made you cry. I’m just a fucking fuck up.” He groans.
Tell me you fucked this up.
“No, Lucifer, please. Talk to me. I’m here for you.”
Tell me you’re still in love.
“I lost everything I ever wanted, Chloe. Everything. All because I’m such a black and white being. Linda told me—she told me—I need to see the gray. If I saw the gray, if I had some fucking patience and grace, I wouldn’t have lost everything! I wouldn’t have lost—” Lucifer chokes on a sob.
“I wouldn’t have lost you.” He whispers.
Chloe doesn’t know what to say. Well, she knows what she wants to say, but she doesn’t think it’s appropriate. She wants to say that she’s right here. She’s never going anywhere, and she wants to hug him and tell him that’s it’s okay. That he’s not a fuck up and that he’s the most amazing person she’s ever met. She wants to tell him that she’s in love with him.
She can’t say any of that. She’s sure he doesn’t want to hear it, but she can’t possibly allow him to believe that he has fucked up what they had. At least not this time. This time, it was her, and it is the biggest regret she will ever carry with her.
So, she says, “You, Lucifer Morningstar, are the best person I know. You are unbelievably patient, kind, and sincere. You are so smart, and sweet—and I know, I know, the devil isn’t sweet, but I think he is. He’s the sweetest person I know, and I am…I am so proud of the man he has become.” Chloe pauses, swallowing around the growing lump in her throat before whispering, “And you, Lucifer Morningstar…you have not lost me. I’m here, and I will be here forever. Or until you tell me to leave. I won’t want to, but I will respect you. I am so sorry for running before, but I won’t now, and I never will again. You will not lose me.”
Chloe can hear him trying to hide his sobs in the background, and if she weren’t so in tune with her partner, she would’ve missed them.
“I’m sorry, C-chloe. I’m sorry.” Lucifer chokes and the line goes dead.
It’s the first night that Chloe considers telling Linda about his drinking.
***
“Thanks for finding time to talk to me, Linda.” Chloe says as she sits down on the couch in Linda’s office.
“Of course. With everything you’ve been through recently, I’m more than happy to have you. I must warn you, though, I don’t have any liquor here. Middle of the day, and all.” Linda folds her hands across her lap and offers a soft smile.
“Oh! Oh, no. That’s okay. I’m here for a…for a different reason actually. I’ve been handling the Devil business quite well anymore, but I-I am here for the Devil.”
“Oh?”
“Lucifer calls me, Linda. Every night.” Chloe takes a deep breath. “Which, for the record, is not the issue. I love that he calls me every night. The issue…the issue is that he’s calling me and he’s…obliterated. Completely, totally drunk.”
“Really?” Linda’s jaw drops. “Wow.”
“Right? He drinks a lot, obviously, but…how much does he need to drink to get past his celestial metabolism or whatever?” Chloe is simply dumbfounded by that aspect. He must be consuming so much alcohol that if he weren’t immortal, he would be dead. Very, very dead.
“I mean, we’re probably talking…cases. Easily. There’s no way he’s getting this drunk every night and it only being a result of a few bottles per night. Wow.” Linda’s eyes are wide with this alcohol calculation.
“I don’t know what to do, Linda. It’s not like he can just go to a rehab program. Who am I to say the Devil has an alcohol problem? He drinks whiskey like it’s water and he probably has since whiskey was invented.” Chloe says, exasperated.
“You’re right, Chloe. I mean, his drinking in this case is likely a direct result of his mental state, so we can try to tackle it from that perspective, but there’s nothing we can really do for his drinking habits. I suppose from all celestial fronts, it’s perfectly normal.” Linda slips into therapist mode just as quickly as she slipped into friend mode, and the change is clear to Chloe. She’s talking to Dr. Linda Martin, therapist of the Devil, now and not Linda Martin, friend and fellow Tribe.
“I just don’t know what to do to help him. I’m stuck between wanting to be there for him in every way and knowing that someone else already is,” Chloe sighs, beginning to really feel the weight of all this on her shoulders.
“I think that answering his calls and listening to him is the best thing you could be doing. We can’t tell him to leave Eve if she’s not supporting him; ultimately, that is his decision to make.” Linda sighs and puts her pen in the holder on her notebook. “I can’t say either way if Eve is a…positive influence in Lucifer’s life.”
“I can’t say either way without sounding like a raging, jealous bitch,” Chloe chuckles, but it lacks any and all humor.
“What you’re feeling is entirely understandable, Chloe. This is a safe place to discuss those feelings too if you want.”
Chloe takes a deep breath. “I hate how he’s happy, and I hate that he’s with Eve.”
Linda offers a sad smile. “I know. Between friends, I don’t think she’s the greatest influence.”
“Yeah,” Chloe breathes. “Do you mind just keeping this between us?”
“Of course, Chloe. If Lucifer comes back to his sessions, I won’t bring up anything discussed between us. I will try to help him, though…I’ll keep an eye out for signs of what you’ve mentioned.”
“Thank you,” Chloe stands and tangles her fingers together, trying to settle her nerves.
“Of course, Chloe.” Linda stands and smiles. “Thanks for coming in.”
***
It has been a few days since Lucifer last called. He still shows up to work, of course, but he hasn’t called her. It worries her that maybe he’s just drinking entirely alone and suffering by himself, but she’s also…jealous. What if he’s talking to Eve and not her about his drunken muses?
Five days pass without a call before Chloe gives in and calls him.
She texts first—just testing the waters in case he texts back and initiates the call. Then it would still be him calling her first, right? But he doesn’t answer.
So she calls.
The phone rings three times before it picks up, but it’s not the baritone British voice she fell in love with on the other end.
It’s Eve.
“Chloe,” she says, coldly.
“Eve,” Chloe breathes. Her blood runs cold, as though she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t be, which is exactly what’s happening, isn’t it? She shouldn’t be calling him at half past one in the morning because he hasn’t drunk texted or drunk called her in a week. It’s not her place to do it.
“Why are you calling Lucifer, at this time of day? You can’t possibly have a case.” Eve’s voice is still short and entirely uninterested in speaking to Chloe, like she is a burden to their undoubtedly orgy-filled night.
“N-no, I don’t have a case. I just…I wanted to check on him. He’s been having a rough—”
“I know he’s been having a rough time. I’m his girlfriend. I can take care of him just fine.” Eve snaps.
Chloe’s breath hitches in her throat. “R-right—”
“I know he’s been calling you. He gets drunk and emotional, and he calls you like you’re an ex he’s not over and you answer, without fail, like a damned trained dog.” Eve’s words cut through the speaker with the lethality of the vial of poison Kinley clung to.
Chloe doesn’t even have words to respond with; she is stunned.
“Stop calling him. You’re not dating him, and you never will be. He chose me, not you. He will never choose you.”
Chloe hears rustling in the background, then the voice she wanted to hear to begin with.
“Bloody hell, where is my phone?” Lucifer yells, his voice muffled by what Chloe assumes would be Eve’s shirt over the speaker. “Do you have my phone, Eve?”
“No, I—” the line cuts out. Chloe’s eyes warm and she squeezes them shut, attempting to keep the tears that are already there at bay.
Her phone drops out of her hands, landing on the sheets beside her. Eve’s words felt like a hot knife being shredded through her heart, slowly and painfully. He will never choose you.
Chloe didn’t realize she was crying until tears fell onto her sheets, leaving large wet circles behind. The words were a sharp realization in the truth of her life. She never would be chosen first. She never was. She hasn’t been someone’s first choice since her dad passed away, and isn’t that sad? Almost twenty years since she was someone’s first choice.
Before she has the chance to leap into that rabbit hole any further, her phone rings and Lucifer’s goofy face fills the screen. Unsure if she should answer, because she doesn’t want to endure any more of Eve’s hateful remarks, she hesitates.
Only a moment passes before she decides to answer; her gut screaming that it’s actually Lucifer and not Eve.
Luckily, her gut was right.
“Chloe!” Lucifer exclaims in a hushed tone after her greeting. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yes, I’m okay,” she tries to sniffle quietly, but she knows he heard her. “I was just calling to make sure you were okay. You hadn’t called in a few days.”
“I couldn’t find my phone,” he pauses. “Detective, I’m going to call you back but first I need to take care of something. Can you wait up for me? An hour at most, please. I’m so sorry.”
Chloe pauses, looking at the clock. It’s already late, and an hour would make it later, but something in his tone makes her agree. “Of course, Lucifer. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Yes, soon,” Lucifer breathes, and the line goes dead.
***
Chloe wakes to the sound of her phone vibrating. She glances at the clock on the wall, realizing it’s a little after four in the morning. She realizes she must have fallen asleep while she was waiting for Lucifer to call her back.
“Hello?” she answers groggily.
“Detective, I’m so sorry,” Lucifer rushes to say. “I didn’t mean to take as long as I did, so I’m sure I just woke you up.”
“No, it’s okay, Lucifer, are you okay?” Everything from earlier floods back to Chloe’s mind, the hurt of Eve’s words and the desperation in Lucifer’s voice when he pled with her to wait up for him.
“What did she say to you earlier?” Lucifer asks, panic lacing his tone.
“What? Lucifer, are you—”
“Chloe, what did she say? What did Eve say?”
Chloe lets out a deep breath. “She said the truth, Lucifer. That you chose her and not me and that’s the truth. I need to accept that.”
There’s a long moment of silence on the line where all Chloe can hear is Lucifer’s shallow breathing.
I want you to drunk text me.
“I broke up with Eve,” he whispers.
Saying you still need me.
“You did?” Chloe gasps.
Tell me I’m not like her.
“I did. I think…I think I’ve realized over the past few days that I’m not happy. I’ve been trying…so very hard to be someone for her that I simply cannot be any longer, and I’m…happier striving to be the man I am when,” Lucifer took a deep breath, letting the rest of his words come out in a rush. “When I’m with you.”
That I made you happier.
Chloe feels her eyes warm and fill with tears, her throat tightening around a lump that has an entirely different meaning than the ones she has felt recently.
“I make you happier?” she asks, entirely dumbfounded.
“Detective, you make me feel happy and content in ways I never dreamed I’d feel in my entire existence.”
Against every attempt, a sob escapes Chloe’s mouth. “Lucifer, I’m so sorry for everything. For everything with Kinley and how I reacted when I saw your face and just everything. I’m so sorry I never believed you and that you felt like you could only come to me when you’re drunk. Lucifer, I’m so sorry.” The words come in a rush, like she’s afraid she won’t ever have the opportunity to say them, and she needs to get them out, right now.
Lucifer attempts to soothe her through the phone. “Chloe, Chloe, please. I forgave you for all of that so long ago. Please.”
Another sob escapes her, and she’s torn between whether it’s sadness from the pain they’ve both felt or relief that he still wants to be with her. Then, she hears a soft whoosh on the other end of the line and then feels that breeze of wind against her cheeks. She looks up through tear-clouded eyes to see Lucifer, standing in her bedroom with his phone still to his ear and his wings folding back into his shoulders.
“Chloe, please don’t cry,” he whispers, and Chloe bolts from the bed and into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist and burying her face in his chest. He gently rubs circles on her back while she calms down, her sobs slowing to soft tears before she pulls away from him and looks in his eyes.
“I’m still in love with you, Lucifer.” She whispers, tracing her fingers along the overgrown stubble on his jaw.
“Chloe, it’s has been and always will be you. There’s no choice to be had.”