Archive of Our Own

From the time humans first began roaming the Earth and discovered music, they also discovered soul-bonds, even if they didn’t quite have a name for it yet. One soulmate singing just the right lyrics or humming the perfect series of notes, and a connection is forged that is unbreakable and permanent. The same song could be sung by a person a hundred times without anything happening, but that 101st time, in the presence of their soulmate everything changes for both of them.

As humans grew and evolved, creating new music, their obsession with soul-songs also grew; that need to find one’s soulmate, to feel that connection, became instinctive.

Any song could be a couple’s soul-song—from ancient music lost to the ages, to religious hymns, opera, rock, pop, hip-hop, and folk—the possibilities are endless. One couple’s soul-song was discovered singing Old MacDonald Had a Farm to their toddler son.

The effect of a soul-bond being formed is supposed to be indescribable. When Chloe asked her mom once what it felt like, Penelope told her that when she heard John singing I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You under his breath, her soul felt ‘staticky’ and she just knew. Others have said it’s like their soul shifted just enough to align with their soulmate’s or like a puzzle piece snapping into place. Much like the song that connects them, the feeling varies.

Humans have studied the phenomenon for millennia, trying to prove the existence of it or debunk it, or trying to determine why certain songs affect soulmates. Religions and cults have formed around it, believing it to be a ‘gift from God’. Soulmates even submit themselves for scientific testing to help researchers understand it better. These days, the internet is filled with videos of people recording themselves singing various songs in the hopes of finding their soulmate.

It all sounds sweet and romantic, and it can be, Chloe supposes, if one doesn’t take into account hormonal teenagers walking around constantly singing. Or having a random person walk up to you on the street to sing some song that was in their head. Or even worse, being in a bar with a bunch of drunk people, all of them singing different songs, usually loud, slurred, and off-key. The noise is enough to give a person a migraine. Because, after all, one never knows what song will make that special connection between another’s soul until one of them sings it.

Personally, Chloe isn’t sure she even believes in the idea. The concept of soulmates all on its own leaves her with a bad taste in her mouth—two people destined to be together? Even if the soul-bond isn’t a romantic one, it all seems a bit too predetermined for her tastes. She prefers getting to know her romantic partners and her friends, forging connections that way, rather than obsessing over whether some song will give her a fuzzy feeling. That isn’t to say she doesn’t enjoy music on its own; she does, but more as a hobby than anything else.

Besides, some people go their entire lives without hearing that ‘one special song’, yet have perfectly normal, loving relationships. A couple doesn't have to be soulmates to be happy.

Which is why it annoyed her so much when Dan would spend the majority of their time dating and their marriage singing parts of songs to her. His attempts to prove they were soulmates became more sporadic a couple years before they started having marital problems and stopped entirely about six months before they separated. When he started spending increased periods of time working or out with the guys rather than at home with his family.

That they hadn’t found their soul-song a few years into their marriage was always a sore point with him. His own parents discovered theirs within six months of meeting; Chloe’s parents, within the first week. He never said so out loud, but Chloe suspects he was a little bitter and resentful that she wasn’t trying nearly so hard to find their song.

Of course, Dan also spent months lying to and manipulating his wife towards the end of their marriage, so she’s glad they weren’t soulmates. Secretly, though, she sometimes wondered who her soulmate might be and which song would be theirs. And what might be wrong with her that she hadn't yet found either.

When Chloe first met Lucifer, she quickly discovered his love for music. He constantly puts on shows at Lux for packed crowds, playing the piano and singing. The few times she’s heard him play, she was enraptured; he claims to be the Devil, but he has the voice of an angel. She discovered just as quickly that he didn’t do so in order to find his own soulmate.

“Angels can’t have soulmates, Detective. That is purely a human ailment my father dreamed up for his own amusement. Or to punish me by twisting something else I love into something torturous.”

Chloe took that to mean that in his own, weird Lucifer-ish way, he doesn’t believe in the soul-song concept, either. Actually, that was one of the first things they really bonded over: their mutual skepticism of soulmates in general.

In the year that she’s known Lucifer, he went from annoying, asshole stranger to partner to best friend and someone she can count on to be there for her. Where she once found him ‘repulsive on a chemical level’, she’s gotten to know another side of him he doesn’t often show. The thought of anything happening between them was still something she was vehemently against, if for no other reason than he only seemed to want to get her into bed with no interest in anything more meaningful.

And that was fine with her. Until, one day, she realized it wasn’t. When they stood together on a beach and he gave her a speech about what she deserves, ending it with a resigned, sad, “And I’m...not worth it”. She realized then that she’d started falling for him, even if she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment. That morning she made him Hawaiian bread egg sandwiches and he said her dad would be proud of her? Before that? Either way, it was in that moment she realized that just maybe he wasn’t only interested in sex, that he was interested in her, and she kissed him.

Shortly after, before they could even talk about it, she was poisoned and everything was put on hold. Chloe was sure that was the end for her, since the antidote formula only lived in the mind of the poison’s creator—and he slit his own throat. But somehow, Lucifer pulled off the impossible and found the formula, saving Chloe’s life. When she woke up in the hospital, he was there beside her and while she hoped to pick up where they left off, he had other ideas. A few days later, she walked into the dark penthouse to find white sheets over the furniture.

Two weeks have passed since then and today, when Lucifer showed up to the precinct like he never left. Chloe had been initially relieved he was okay, right up to the point that he shushed her and his new stripper wife walked down the stairs.

Chloe has had her heart broken before, but never as thoroughly as when she realized that what she believed was the beginning of something amazing meant nothing to Lucifer. All day long, she’s been alternating between wanting to strangle him and wanting to cry, and he isn’t helping matters at all by insisting that she ‘needs him’ after she sent him packing. Grudgingly, she admits, if only to herself, that he had a good idea with the divorce mediator. But even then, it was difficult to put aside her own personal feelings for the good of the case.

Walking into a small, dark club, she tries to get her head back into the game, but the quiet drive over reminded her just how alone she is. It wasn’t news that Lucifer was allergic to anything more committed than a one-night stand—or so she thought. At the same time, though, for a minute, she started to wonder if there was such a thing as soulmates, and whether Lucifer could be hers.

Lucifer once said they had a connection and she initially assumed it was a pick-up line—maybe it was. But as she got to know him, she realized they really do have a connection. Well, did. Even saying they’re complete opposites is flimsy; beneath the surface, they believe in a lot of the same things—fairness, justice, just to name a couple. Lucifer has been there for her from the get-go, and then he had to go and pull this. It’s the first time she’s ever felt truly let down by him, and she can’t see how they go forward from here, even just as partners.

The music in the tiny club is loud with the live band on stage. Chloe approaches one of the bartenders and behind her, she hears the music come to a stop mid-song. Not thinking anything of it, she goes about her business as she hears someone on a microphone making an announcement. In fact, she isn’t paying attention to anything until she hears an all too familiar name.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Lucifer Morningstar!”

Oh, no. No no no no.

What did he do now, follow her? Honestly, she wouldn’t put it past him. Slowly, she turns around and watches in horror as Lucifer step out onto the stage, hamming it up for the crowd and throwing up devil horns with his hands. Despite their previous complaints about the music stopping, the audience is now losing their minds for the idiot on stage with a microphone. Chloe might be about to kill him.

“Hello, Los Angeles! Oh, you’re too kind.” Lucifer is all grins as he looks at the crowd, his eyes quickly finding Chloe. His grin widens a touch.

Chloe swipes her hand across her neck in a cut it out, now, Lucifer, gesture that he ignores completely. Because...of course he does. She pushes forward towards the front of the stage, tempted to drag him off by the ear. Does he not remember there’s a homicide to solve? Then again, she should be used to Lucifer making a spectacle of himself as much as using a case for his own personal gain.

She doesn’t believe he’s really the Devil, but she’s willing to take the chance and wonders if exorcisms are real.

“Hello. This next song is for a, uh, a special someone. A woman who says she doesn’t need me anymore.” Lucifer makes a sad face and the crowd aww’s sympathetically.

Yep. Chloe is going to kill him.

“Yeah. Well, I say she’s wrong.” He moves around a keyboard, setting the mic in the stand, and sits down behind it. “And I’m gonna prove just what I’m willing to do for our partnership.”

Chloe narrows her eyes at him skeptically.

“That’s right, rock a sweet 90’s jam.”

She immediately recognizes the opening notes of Eternal Flame and throws her hands out a little, silently asking what the hell he thinks he’s doing. The bastard winks at her.

“Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling
Do you feel my heart beating?
Do you understand? Do you feel the same?
Am I only dreaming?
Is this burning an eternal flame?”

Chloe is so focused on her irritation that she doesn’t notice it at first and assumes the flickers of warmth she feels is the temperature of the club. On stage, Lucifer is still smiling with every lyric he sings, never faltering, but she thinks his eyebrows furrow, just a little. He meets her gaze and there’s an intensity she isn’t used to seeing in him when he sings blazing in his eyes.

“Say my name
Sun shines through the rain
A whole life so lonely
And you come and ease the pain
I don't want to lose this feeling, oh...”

When the song fades out, everything goes quiet. In her periphery, Chloe can see the crowd, cheering and applauding, but she can’t hear it.. That warmth she wrote off is stronger now and with it, she feels like she’s being lit up from the inside. Her heart is pounding in her ears—only it isn’t only her heartbeat. There are two, just slightly out of sync. Something shifts, slotting into place, and two separate heartbeats are now one, stronger together than they were apart.

Lucifer is staring at her with wide eyes, his mouth halfway open as if he was about to say something, but lost the words. She knows he’s feeling exactly the same thing. But that can’t be right. Can it?

Everything she never believed about soulmates is proving true. Lucifer sang and she can feel...what? His soul? It’s far more intense than Chloe ever thought it might be, but perhaps that’s because of whose soul is on the other end of this connection. Lucifer Morningstar—the Devil, the angel. She can feel the truth of that, too.

He breaks their gaze first, averting his eyes, and Chloe startles as the volume in the club is switched back on as if someone hit the mute button. She can’t read his expression from here, but sees him swallow then turn around and walk back through the curtain he appeared from. He’s running.

Forgetting about everything else, Chloe follows him, ignoring the people she bumps into and the drummer on stage telling her she can’t be back there. Lucifer is her soulmate. Of course he is. She knows it like she knows her own name, she feels it.

Her entire world feels like it’s tilting on an all-new axis. That warmth and light is still flowing through her veins, sparkling and crackling like electricity. She always thought people were exaggerating about that. Maybe they were, because this feels like something no human has ever experienced.

A door slams to her left and she knows it was him. When she steps out of the emergency exit, she expects him to be gone entirely. Instead, she finds him pacing in a narrow alleyway, one hand clutching his hair, the other pressed to his chest.

“Lucifer.” She sounds a little breathless. But then, she did just find her soulmate. In a dingy dive bar, singing a song by The Bangles.

Lucifer stops suddenly as if he’s hit a brick wall, but doesn’t turn around to look at her. He doesn’t tense or startle, which means he knew she was there, or expected her to follow him. Chloe notices they're breathing in sync, too, each of them just as heavily as the other’s.

“You felt it,” she whispers. “Didn’t you?”

For a moment, she thinks he might be ignoring her altogether. Then, so slowly, he starts to turn towards her, letting the hand from his hair drop limply to his side. The one against his chest, right above his heart, remains. His eyes are wild and out of focus as they scan her face, not settling on any one feature for long.

“How?” he says hoarsely. “This isn’t...possible.”

Chloe takes a few tentative steps towards him, feeling like she’s approaching a wild animal that will flee at the slightest provocation. She wants to say something flippant or cliché just to break this tension between them. It isn’t a bad tension, more uncertain than anything, but Lucifer looks genuinely shocked. More so than even Chloe.

“Is it really such a bad thing?”

She meant for the question to come out a bit lighter, but there’s a tinge of real hurt in her voice. Not only did he run off and get married after she nearly died from being poisoned, but now, after a full day of chasing her around the city trying to prove that she needs him and to get her to take him back as her partner, he’s rejecting this, too. Rejecting her.

Is that really such a surprise?

He was always so vehemently against the very concept of soul-songs and soulmates, claiming it goes against the idea that humans have free will. Maybe that’s why he’s reacting so negatively now. Chloe probably should have seen this coming, but the moment their connection forged, every other thought fled her mind.

Lucifer opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come out. He closes it, turning his head and blinking a few times. Clearing his throat, he turns back to her. His eyes are back in focus now and slightly less wild, she thinks. And there’s something softer, too. Hope, maybe? Longing? She doesn’t know.

“You don’t understand, Detective,” he whispers, sounding anguished. “You deserve a far better soulmate than the Devil. Nobody deserves to be bound to me, not like that. And certainly not you.”

Despite her hurt and anger with him, Chloe feels her heart break a little for him. He really believes that; that he isn’t worthy of being cared for or loved. That he doesn’t deserve anything good. She understands now—why he feels that way; the Devil has been vilified in the eyes of literally everybody from the dawn of humanity. They believe him to be this evil monster.

But Chloe knows the truth; she can feel the truth in her soul. There is nothing but goodness in him, even if he doesn’t believe it himself. There’s a bit of darkness there, too, but the light is so much brighter.

“Lucifer, that isn’t true,” she says quietly. “Do you want to know what I felt when you sang that song?”

He hesitates, like he doesn’t know if he can trust whatever she might say. Or like he isn’t sure he wants the truth. But he swallows hard and nods.

Chloe swallows, too, her eyes stinging at the corners as she recalls those initial few moments that time seemed to stop around them; when they were the only two people in the universe. “I can’t really explain it. Warmth, I guess? Light? Like, static electricity in my blood. It was the weirdest, best feeling.”

He’s hanging onto her every word, his breathing shallow.

“I felt your kindness and your goodness, a touch of something a little darker,” she adds, refusing to lie to him about this, just to make him feel better. “It was everything I already knew about you, amplified. You aren’t evil, Lucifer.”

Lucifer looks away quickly. The fingers pressed against his chest curl inwards, like he’s trying to get closer to whatever he’s feeling there.

She takes a step closer. “What did you feel?” she asks curiously. Compared to the Devil, her soul must be underwhelming, and yet, Lucifer looks anything but underwhelmed right now. Exactly the opposite, in fact.

Her soulmate is the Devil. Where there would be fear for anyone else, she only feels a sense of calm at the news. It’s big, of course. Massive, even, and something she’ll need to deal with, but right now, she can only deal with one thing at a time. She chooses this. She chooses him.

Letting out a shaky breath, he searches for the words. “You,” he breathes, the wildness in his eyes calming a bit more. “I felt you. I still do.” His eyes narrow as if something’s occurred to him, but he doesn’t give the thought voice.

Chloe nods. She can still feel him, too. His hand shifts slightly and the sunlight pouring through the alleyway glints off something on his finger. Her heart thuds once more, hard, then sinks like a stone when her eyes find the wedding ring adorning it now.

That must be why he’s hesitating so much.

“Right. Um, look, we don’t...obviously, we don’t have to... I mean, soulmates can be friends, you know.” The stinging in her eyes grows stronger and she has to blink back the tears as reality comes rushing back in.

Lucifer is married now. He may be a lot of things, but he isn't a liar; he's a man of his word, and he holds vows sacred. Chloe would never ask him to go against his morals, and she would never force him into anything he didn’t want for himself. No matter how much her heart breaks.

It’s just typical that she would find her soulmate only to find out he doesn’t want her.

Lucifer frowns, then looks down at his hand. “Wha—oh.” He opens his mouth to say something else, but Chloe quickly cuts him off, not wanting to hear again how they’re only friends, anyway, and the moment they shared—this connection they share—doesn’t change that.

“Look, um, we can talk about this another time, can’t we? I’m supposed to be looking for a murderer and you...probably have other things to do.” Like a big boobed, ditzy blonde wife. She starts to turn away, but he reaches out with lightning fast quickness to grab her hand.

“Please, let me explain,” he says softly, looking at her more earnestly than he ever has. “Let me explain all of it, Detective. Please.”

She has never—not once, in their entire partnership—heard him say please twice in the same breath. “What’s to explain?” Her voice sounds hollow. To make matters worse, she can still feel everything she did before. It isn’t dimming; if anything, it feels stronger now that he’s touching her. “You’re married, Lucifer. I mean, I get you aren’t human, but—”

The fingers around her wrist tighten slightly, not to the point of pain, but more out of surprise. His eyes widen. “What did you say?” he whispers.

Chloe blinks. “You aren’t human...? I mean, you’re the Devil, that makes you...an angel, I guess?”

His mouth falls open. “You...believe me?”

“I felt it,” she whispers back. Her free hand presses against her own heart, mirroring his hand. “When you sang.”

Lucifer drops her wrist as if he’s been burned. Or as if he’s afraid of burning her. “What do you mean, you felt it?” he asks, his voice strained and eyes wild again.

She nods, trying to figure out why he’s freaking out now. Shouldn’t she be the one melting down? “I told you. Light. Warmth. Static. Like a live wire almost.”

“Divinity,” he says faintly. “You felt divinity.” Panic flashes in his eyes. “Are you okay?” There’s desperation in his voice now. His hands reach out for her, like he’s going to check for himself, but he stops halfway, slowly folding his fingers into fists. Like he’s afraid to touch her.

“Yes?” she says. “Should I not be?”

He scoffs a laugh. “Detective, a normal human would have to be scraped off the ground with a shovel if they felt pure divinity in their veins.”

A normal human...?

“So what are you saying?”

Lucifer hesitates for several beats. Before he can get a response out, though, the door behind Chloe slams open, startling them both and bursting the bubble that formed around them. She turns to see who came out and finds the bassist she came here looking for in the first place.

“Marla?”

Marla’s eyes widen at the sight of her and Lucifer.

Chloe swallows her disappointment and irritation at the interruption, but reminds herself she’s supposed to be solving a murder. “You’re going to need to come with me.”

Lucifer is watching silently while she handcuffs her suspect, his eyebrows furrowed again and a faintly troubled expression on his face. “Detective.”

Chloe glances over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Can we talk later?”

Some tiny, petty part of her wants to say no, maybe disappear to Vegas for two weeks the way he did the last time she asked him that question. Instead, she just nods, leading Marla out of the alley and back to her car. When she turns around looking for Lucifer, he’s nowhere to be seen.

Typical.

Lucifer watches Candy’s limo pull away and his hand lifts, resting against his heart. Not for the first time today, either; he’s found himself doing it anytime he lets down his guard—or when his thoughts drift to Chloe, which is to say, a lot. His soon to be ex-wife’s words ring in his ears. “What is going on between you and Detective Decker? None of my business, but...I wouldn’t mess that one up.” Along with his own, “I’m trying not to.”

Bloody soulmates.

He went to Las Vegas in the first place to give Chloe her freedom and her free will. To escape what his father had done. Perhaps he should have stayed gone, but he missed Chloe the moment he left her in that hospital; two weeks without her were nothing short of Hell on Earth for him. So he hoped marrying Candy, making Chloe believe he was as shallow as she believed when they met, would be enough to quash anything she felt for him.

The rub is, it might have worked without what happened in the club today. If he hadn’t decided to make a spectacle of himself to assist Chloe on her case and sing that bloody song.

Has he doomed Chloe now? Soulmate connections are said to be unbreakable and permanent. What chance does she have now of finding somebody better to spend her life with than the Devil? Nobody, least of all Chloe Decker, deserves to be shackled to the Devil for the rest of their lives.

The anger he feels towards his father is matched only by his own guilt. Because as convinced as he is that Chloe should be free to find someone worthy, he also wants this with every fiber of his being. Wants her. The feelings he had for Chloe before this soulmate nonsense were like nothing he’s ever felt before, and now...

Everything he felt earlier comes rushing back. A warmth, both familiar and not, coursing through his veins alongside two feelings he’s even less accustomed to, but that were undeniable: acceptance and love. His heart beating with Chloe’s in perfect synchronicity. Even if he wanted to deny what he felt, he saw it all reflected in her eyes for those few seconds they stared at each other.

If Lucifer has ever felt this confused in his long, hopeless life, it hasn’t been for a long, long time. He needs to speak with Chloe, and soon, but first, he needs to go to the place he normally does when he’s confused and needs help understanding emotions.

“Oh, good, you’re still here.”

Lucifer doesn’t break stride walking through Linda’s open office door. The lights are off apart from the desk lamp where she’s sitting, making notes of some kind. She jumps at the sound of his voice. He ignores that, too, and drops onto the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about soulmates.”

Linda’s hand is pressed to her chest from her startelement and her eyes widen even further when she hears what he wants to talk about. “Hello to you, too, Lucifer,” she says dryly. “No Candy this time?”

It takes him a minute to realize she isn’t talking about sweets. “What? Oh, no. She went back to Las Vegas now that our deal has been fulfilled.”

“What deal?”

He waves his hand impatiently. “It doesn’t matter right now, Doctor. I’ve bigger things to worry about, like how, apparently, the Detective and I are soulmates.”

The pen falls out of Linda’s hand and her jaw drops. “Wait, really? Lucifer, that’s wonder...ful,” she says, dragging the word out when she sees the look on his face. “That isn’t wonderful?”

“As if it wasn’t bad enough that Dad put her in my path, now this. It’s like he sits around trying to find new ways to screw with my life, and now he’s gone and dragged the Detective into it. It’s unacceptable.”

Linda holds up a hand. “What do you mean, ‘he put her in your path’?”

“That’s why I went to Las Vegas, the reason for Candy, all of it. Well, mostly. I also needed her assistance to find out what Mum was up to, but then, I sing one little song and—” He mimes an explosion with his hands.

“Okay, I think you need to start from the beginning.”

Sighing irritably, he does as instructed, starting with what his mother told him about Chloe being a miracle and ending with what happened in the club. “Of course, I didn’t expect anything to happen when I sang that song. It shouldn’t have been possible to begin with; angels—and the Devil—aren’t affected by this soul-song nonsense the way you humans are. The song choice was more of a joke than anything, after I saw the Detective’s preferred music playlist on her phone.”

“And then you felt your soulmate connection,” Linda surmises.

He nods, twisting his cufflinks to resist the urge to rub the ache in his chest. He can still feel the connection even now. Like a rush of cool air running through his veins; it’s all a bit muted, being away from Chloe’s presence, but present nonetheless.

“Let me ask you this, Lucifer: Does your mother actually know the reason for Chloe being a miracle or is she guessing?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Since not even Amenadiel knows the reason, or so he claims, I’d assume guessing. Why?”

“Well, your mother thinks Chloe is this grand manipulation. You think her feelings are being controlled by your father. What proof do any of you actually have?”

“Uh, the fact that my father is an omni-bastard and would have known precisely when I would leave Hell and where I would go? The Detective is immune to my charms, I can’t pull out her desires the way I can literally every other human on this planet, and she makes me vulnerable. Either Dad is setting a trap to send me back to Hell, or her feelings aren’t her own.” He pauses. “Or at least, that’s what I thought before,” he adds quietly.

“Before you went to Vegas? What do you think now?” Linda prompts.

“When this...connection between us forged, I felt what she did. For me, that is. I felt...” He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. He still can’t quite put it all into words. Or maybe he doesn't want to, because then that would make it all too real.

More real than her being your soulmate and knowing you're the Devil, and apparently being okay with both?

Linda stands from behind her desk and moves to her usual seat across from him. “Lucifer, what if this miracle isn’t that she was put in your path or a trap or being manipulated at all? Like you said, Chloe isn’t affected by your charms or your desire ability. She doesn’t react to you the same way others do, which I think means she’s been able to get to know you—the real you—in a way nobody else has. Maybe ever.”

Lucifer doesn’t interrupt, even though he’s always known these things about Chloe.

“As for your vulnerability, it isn’t just physical, is it? You let your guard down with Chloe in a way that you don’t even do with me. You care for her as much as she cares for you. For somebody who has spent his entire life either in Hell or bouncing from one meaningless fling to the next, and having no real connections with anybody, that isn’t something to disregard.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows furrow. “So what are you saying?”

“Obviously, I can’t even begin to guess your father’s intentions,” she says. “But mayyybe, the real miracle here is that an angel or the Devil can have a soulmate in the first place.”

He considers that for a few moments and how, when he and Chloe connected after his song, he instinctively knew that what she feels is real. Perhaps his father did interfere enough to put her here or to give her immunity to his powers, but he feels like that’s the extent of it and he can’t even properly explain why he knows that.

Knowing Dad, that was built-in with the miracle, he thinks bitterly.

“But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m the Devil, Doctor,” he says quietly, getting to the root of his problem. “And that Chloe deserves a better soulmate than I could ever hope to be. She deserves somebody worthy and I’m not it. Now she’s bloody well stuck with me.”

Linda shakes her head. “That isn’t how soulmates work, Lucifer,” she argues gently. “While that connection will always be there, nothing says either of you has to do anything about it. Soulmates can just be friends.”

“Do you have...?” He waves his hand towards her vaguely.

“No. Or if I do, we haven’t soul-bonded yet. But I’ve had plenty of patients who have described their own experiences and I studied it extensively in college.”

“She knows I’m the Devil, Doctor.”

Linda blinks at him. “Chloe does?” He nods. “How?”

He huffs. “Apparently, she felt it. Perhaps the bigger miracle is that she isn’t bloody terrified of me now. Or that my divinity didn’t literally make her head explode.”

Linda blinks, then shakes her head as if she doesn’t want to ask if he’s serious. “Have you two actually sat down and talked about this yet?”

“We didn’t get the chance. She was in the middle of a case and her suspect walked right into the middle of our discussion.”

“I thought so. What do you want to do about this, Lucifer?”

He hesitates, because he knows precisely what he wants to do, and it's the last thing that he should do. “It doesn’t matter what I want or what I feel—”

“On the contrary. What you want matters just as much as what Chloe wants. If those things align, what’s the problem?”

“She deserves better!” he exclaims yet again. How is nobody hearing him? Is he speaking into the bloody void? “I am the Devil, Doctor! She may have felt it, but she hasn’t seen it. She doesn’t know what I’ve done and she doesn’t deserve to be bound to me this way, nobody does!”

“The only person who can decide what Chloe deserves...is Chloe. Lucifer, you keep making these unilateral decisions that you believe are in her best interest—going to Vegas after her poisoning, trying to extinguish her feelings for you by marrying another woman, and now this. All you’re doing is hurting the both of you, but her especially, because she doesn’t have the full story. Let her make her own choices, because I truly believe she has the freedom to do so. Feelings are irrational at the best of times, but things like love? Even more so.”

He startles slightly at the word love.

“Nobody can control who they fall in love with. Not even God. Not even the Devil.”

Lucifer sputters. “Who said anything about...that?” He isn’t even capable of love, broken and defective as he is.

Linda gives him that flat look she gets when he’s being exceptionally stubborn and she sees right through him. “We both know that your feelings for Chloe are far, far deeper than you’re willing to admit. I can’t speak for her, but I know you. Give her a chance. Explain to her what’s been going on. Work through this together, as partners. That’s what soulmates really are, Lucifer. And the two of you? You’ve built an amazing partnership. Don’t throw that away. I have one more question for you and even if you don’t want to answer it out loud, be honest with yourself.”

Lifting his head from where he’s been staring at his hands, he raises an eyebrow, gesturing for her to ask.

She leans forward, holding his gaze. “What do you, the Devil, truly desire?”

For a moment, he’s thrown. Nobody has ever asked him that before. He couldn’t possibly count the number of times he’s asked others, but he’s also never bothered to ask himself. It never seemed to matter and even if it did, the chances of him getting that desire were slim. Any miniscule happiness he might have found in life, his family always finds a way to take it from him.

Still, he knows the answer. It’s the only thing he’s desired from the moment he set eyes on Chloe, even if he refused to admit it to himself, until now. “I want to be with her. I want her to choose me. I want this...this soul-bond.”

Linda smiles as if she also knew the answer all along, which she probably did. Clever Doctor. “Then tell her.”

Now that he’s admitted it out loud for the first time, the tension drains from his body along with a large portion of his fears. Could it be that simple? That he and the Detective could simply choose to be together despite this soulmate business? The more he thinks about it, the more he desires it. There’s still the relatively small matter of whether she would want him after the way he ran off today—and two weeks ago.

“Yes,” he whispers, thinking it through. He did ask the Detective if they could talk later—and it’s certainly later now.

He only hopes it isn’t too late. 

By the time he’s knocking softly on her door, it’s nearly eleven at night. He knows she isn’t in bed; the lights are still on. All the way over, here he thought through everything he ever heard or saw about soulmates. The song he sang today...it was, as he told Dr. Linda, a joke, but he also found meaning in those lyrics. He did want to prove himself to Chloe and he would have been willing to do far more to keep her in his life. But he never expected anything to happen, not least of all because...he’s the Devil.

Celestials aren’t supposed to be affected by this soulmate nonsense, it’s all for the humans. He didn’t even think it was actually real, until he felt it for himself.

And he wants to keep feeling it, for the rest of his immortal life. Or at least, the rest of her mortal one.

A silhouette approaches the door, hesitating a moment before unlocking and opening it. Chloe doesn’t look entirely surprised to see him.

He gives her a tentative smile. “Hello, Detective,” he murmurs.

“Hi.” She also doesn’t look entirely pleased to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“I, um, thought we should talk?” he says hopefully.

Those must be the magic words. Her eyes light up briefly before she hides it. “Yeah. Yeah, I think we should. Come in.” Standing back, she opens the door wider for him and he steps inside gratefully.

The apartment is quiet. Good. Maybe they can get through a bloody conversation without interruption for a change. He stops in the middle of the apartment and turns. She steps towards him, her fingers weaving around each other. She’s as nervous as he is.

“Why hasn’t the nosy little imp accosted me yet?” he wonders aloud.

Chloe rolls her eyes, cracking a small smile. “Oh, Trixie is at Dan’s.”

Lucifer shakes his head. “No, I meant Maze.”

She laughs, making him smile in return. “She left suddenly about an hour ago on a bounty.”

Which means the favor he called in paid off. Splendid.

Now that he’s here with her, he isn’t entirely sure where to start. For a minute, they just stare at each other. Before anything else, he needs to explain—him being the Devil; his Vegas jaunt; Candy. The miracle. Then, assuming Chloe doesn’t throw him out, perhaps they can talk about them being soulmates.

“Do you wanna sit?” Chloe asks, gesturing towards the couch.

Nodding, Lucifer follows and they sit together. He notices she sits closer to him than he expected, and then he notices the bottle of wine on the coffee table along with two glasses, one already half full. “Expecting company?”

Smiling to herself, she reaches over and pours him a glass. “More hoping, I guess. But no, I'm not expecting anything.”

The words sound like they mean something else entirely. Lucifer reaches for the glass she hands him. Her eyes drop to his hand and widen in surprise.

“No ring,” she says quietly.

He follows her gaze to his now bare left ring finger. “No ring. That’s partly what I wanted to discuss with you, Detective.”

“Wait, did you...break up with Candy because of...” She gestures vaguely between them.

“Not exactly,” he says carefully. “There is quite a bit for me to explain.” He glances at the lone bottle on the table. “How much wine do you have, Detective?”

Lucifer’s explanation about Chloe being a miracle, what he believed, why he went to Vegas, and who Candy really is takes nearly half an hour. Through it all, Chloe remains silent, alternating between surprise, irritation, anger, and hurt.

He’s refilled her wine glass twice, never taking a sip himself, watching her reactions closely. There are a few times when he tries to subtly lean away, possibly from the look on her face suggesting she's going to strangle him.

“So let me get this straight,” she says quietly. “You left because you thought I was some manipulation or I was being manipulated, went to Vegas, decided the best course of action was to marry a stripper who’s actually a conwoman-slash-lounge singer, and come back here to...what? Make me not care about you anymore?”

Lucifer sighs. “It was more to suss out my mother’s schemes, but I admit, that was part of it as well. Detective, I thought you didn’t have any control over your feelings for me. I left to give you back control, to give you the choice to find someone...better. I was trying to protect you.”

For a few minutes, she thinks it through rather than jumping to how ridiculous the entire thing was. Lucifer isn’t human; he views things differently than a human would. His life has been full of rejection and manipulations, and he reacts before he thinks. Looking at this from his perspective, she can sort of understand his reaction. It doesn’t take away the hurt or that she wishes he would have just talked to her, but she thinks she gets it.

More than that, she can feel the truth in his words. His heartache feels like her own and his sincerity burns bright. Is that a soulmate thing, too? She can also feel what she really means to him and it’s more than she ever thought.

“And now?” she asks, needing to hear him say the words. “Do you still think my feelings aren’t my own?”

A soft smile pulls at his lips. “No,” he murmurs. His hand twitches in his lap, like he wants to reach for her, but isn’t sure he’s allowed. “No, this afternoon, when we...” He gestures between them. “Detective, I can’t explain exactly, I’m not sure there are words, but whatever this is between us, your feelings are your own. Your life is your own.”

Relief floods through her, but it doesn’t answer the biggest question on her mind. “What do we do now?”

“I suppose that depends.”

“On what?”

Lucifer looks down at his hands. “Whether you can forgive me. I am sorry, Chloe, more than you can know.”

“This is all so...insane,” she says, shaking her head.

Between the soul-song and him being the Devil and the fact that everything she never believed in is true, Chloe feels a little overwhelmed. But she can’t help feeling relieved that his marriage to Candy wasn’t real, other than legally.

She spent most of the evening trying to sort through what she feels for Lucifer and she quickly realized nothing had changed other than he hurt her, deeply. But it’s Lucifer and it’s her, and Devil or not, he’s her soulmate. Somehow, deep down, she thinks she’s always known that.

“And if I can’t?”

Hurt flashes in his eyes that he hides, but it flares in her soul. “I understand, Detective,” he says, dejected. “I’ll just...give you some space.”

He’s on his feet and turns towards the door when Chloe reaches for his hand, much the same way he reached for her outside the club earlier. “Lucifer. Wait. I just meant, would we still be partners? Friends?”

Lucifer takes a second, to mask his hurt, she thinks, before looking back at her. The expression of understanding on his face in no way matches what she feels from him—a storm of pain and rejection and disappointment. And something even darker that feels like self-hatred.

“Always, Detective,” he promises.

Tugging on his hand, she indicates for him to sit again. He does, looking bemused. “What do you want, Lucifer?” she asks softly, not letting go of his hand.

She doesn’t think she’s ever seen so much longing in one person; it echoes in her heart. Her soul. Like a dull throbbing of need and want. “I want you to be happy, Detective,” he murmurs, looking down at their hands. “And I’m not sure that you could be, with me.”

“Why do you think that?” she asks, bemused. Despite a few minor disagreements, up until recently, Chloe has never been unhappy with her partnership with Lucifer. Maybe a little at the beginning, before she got to know him, but he’s turned out to be the best partner she’s ever had. He’s her best friend.

“Because of what I am.”

Tucking one leg under her, she turns towards him. “You think because you’re the Devil you can’t make me happy?” He looks away sharply and she knows she hit the nail on the head. That is exactly what he thinks. “Lucifer, if you think that I wouldn’t forgive you for your mistakes or your flaws...if you think that I don’t know who you really are by now, you’re wrong.”

Slowly, he turns back to her, his eyes bright. “Detective...” he whispers. Closing his eyes, he sighs heavily, and she wonders if this is it; that he’s decided he won't let himself have this, despite how badly he wants it. “There’s something you need to see.” He says it with so much reluctance, like he really doesn’t want to say it, but feels as if he needs to. “You need to truly understand what being the Devil means.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“I have another face. My Devil face. It’s what I use to punish the guilty in Hell, and it’s my punishment, as well. I never wanted you to see it, you don’t deserve to see it, but if this is truly what you want...”

Chloe frowns. “Okay...” she says slowly. “But you don’t have to show me, Lucifer. I felt—”

“I know,” he says quickly. “But I think I do need to show you.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer, but she can see fear in his eyes now that he’s trying to mask. She can’t quite describe what she’s feeling from him. The light and warmth dim and cool, almost a sludgy feeling attempting to pour through their connection. His darkness. His fear. His pain.

“I just do,” he murmurs.

Chloe nods, not entirely understanding, but if he thinks he needs this, then she’ll go along with it. “Okay. Show me.”

Releasing her hand, he gets to his feet and moves to the other side of the room, to an armchair. She looks at him in confusion. “I suspect you’ll want the distance soon,” he says resignedly, reaching into his pocket for his flask. He takes a deep gulp and replaces the lid, setting it aside. “Are you ready?”

His anxiety is starting to make her anxious, but she nods. “Yes.”

Chloe isn’t sure what to expect, but the dream she had after their kiss on the beach comes rushing back. Will he have horns? Then she recalls a long forgotten conversation in her dark cruiser when he said something about how the Devil having horns and a tail is the stuff of movies.

Nothing happens at first, then gradually, his face starts to change.

First, it’s his eyes. They shift from warm brown like melted chocolate to crimson and she swears she can see flames licking at the edges of them. Then, from one blink to the next, she’s no longer looking at the handsome face she’s come to know so well in the last year. Smooth, tanned skin turns rough and scarred, the same color as his eyes, though darker in some areas. Dark, curly hair that’s normally styled within an inch of its life recedes, leaving him bald. Lips she remembers being pillowy soft thin and look chapped and cracked. Pearly white teeth are now yellow and chipped and sharp-looking, almost like fangs.

This is the face of the Devil.

Primal, instinctive fear starts to build up low in her gut along with a hissing voice telling her to run, to confess her guilt. Her muscles tense as her fight-or-flight instincts rear up next. Chloe suppresses all of it. Because she can still feel the light of Lucifer’s soul twined with her own; she can still feel his goodness.

He’s watching her closely, not daring to make a move or even so much as breathe. The longer she looks the more of him she can see. It hits her a moment later that this is how he sees himself—a monster, something to be feared, to run from. And she thinks she may have seen it before. Way back with Jimmy Barnes, after she was shot and passed out from blood loss, and again, in the warehouse just before she shot him. Both times were just reflections that she wrote off as her mind playing tricks on her; clearly, she was wrong.

Chloe takes in every inch of this unfamiliar side of him for a few minutes. She feels like Lucifer is testing her somehow, and if she so much as flinches, she could lose him altogether. She's never failed a test in her life; she isn’t about to let herself fail this one. Slowly, she stands from the couch. His shoulders start to droop, like he thinks she’s about to run from him. Instead, she walks around the coffee table and crouches down in front of him. His lips part in surprise and his eyes widen.

Resting her hands on his knees, she gives him a tentative smile. He couldn’t look more shocked if he tried. “It’s just what I imagined,” she says softly. His hairless brow furrows in confusion. “I’ve felt your soul, Lucifer. All of it, including this side of you.”

He lets out a breath like he’s been winded and his face switches back to the one she’s more familiar with. “Chloe.” His wide, glistening eyes don’t leave hers. He looks as overwhelmed now as he did outside the club today, but maybe in a good way? His mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find words, but eventually, he closes it, shaking his head.

The next thing she knows, he’s leaning forward to press his lips against hers. It’s the same kiss they shared on the beach weeks ago, only more because their soulmate connection flares to life, catching them both off guard. Lucifer pulls away, staring at her in stunned surprise, until a smile tugs on his lips and he lets out a huff of disbelieving laughter.

“Did you feel that?” he asks.

Chloe nods. “Yeah,” she whispers, a little choked. “Yeah, I felt it. Just like at the club.”

“Yes.” He studies her intently. “You...truly don’t mind that I’m the Devil, do you?”

It doesn’t sound like a question, more that he’s asking himself, but she shakes her head no, anyway, and takes both of his hands in hers. “I don’t. I’m going to have a thousand questions for you, but I don’t mind, Lucifer. It’s just another side of you that I want to get to know.”

Lucifer squeezes her fingers, looking speechless for once. “I don’t know what to say. This has never happened before.”

“Look, if you need time to get used to all of this, Lucifer, just say the word,” she says quietly. “I get feeling overwhelmed, and if you’re not ready to be more than partners or friends—”

“That isn’t it,” he says hastily.

Chloe remembers what he said earlier today, in the alley. “But you think I deserve better?”

He looks down at their joined hands. “I know you do, Detective.”

“Lucifer.” She tilts her head to meet his eyes. “You’re wrong.”

He looks at her, disbelief in every line of his expression. “Detective...”

She shakes her own head. “Soulmates or not, I know who you are,” she says. “Maybe I don’t know the whole story, and you can tell me if you want, but it won’t change how I feel. This,” she reaches up to touch his face, her thumb stroking his skin, “and your other face, they’re both you. Besides, you don’t get to decide what I deserve or who’s worthy of me. Only I get to do that.”

Lucifer huffs a laugh. “That’s what Dr. Linda said.”

“You should totally give that woman a raise,” Chloe says with a grin. “Wait, does Linda know about...”

“Yes. For a few months now. You took it far better.” He pauses a beat. “She said something else, too. She believes the miracle wasn’t that you were put into my path, but that the Devil could have a soulmate at all. It’s unprecedented; no angel has ever had a soulmate as far as I know. And...I think she’s right. At the club, when we...connected, I felt it. That all of this,” he lets go of one of her hands and gestures between them, “is real. We’re real.”

Chloe could have told him that without the soul-bond. But she can understand why he would need further proof. She thinks that might have been at least part of the reason he showed her his other face, to prove it to himself that she wants him, Devil side and all.

“And now?” she wonders. “What do you want now?”

He hesitates again. “You would really desire...being with me?” he asks tentatively. “In a...relationship?”

“If that’s what you want, then...yes,” she answers. “Nothing has changed for me, Lucifer. If anything, it’s...more.”

Lucifer nods slowly, processing her answer. “More,” he says, testing the word as if it’s foreign. “Yes. For me as well.” Taking a deep breath, he lifts her hands to his lips, pressing kisses to the back of each one. “I have never desired anything more than I desire you, Chloe Decker. If you choose to walk this path with me, nothing could make me happier.”

In answer, Chloe lifts herself up enough to kiss him again, pressing her hand to his face. He lets out a shuddering sigh through his nose and kisses her back, their lips moving together. Their connection flares again, humming between them, growing louder, stronger. It takes her a moment to realize that Lucifer is also literally humming as he kisses her—and a moment longer to realize what he’s humming. She sings along in her head, smiling against his lips.

Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling
Do you feel my heart beating?
Do you understand? Do you feel the same?
Am I only dreaming?
Is this burning an eternal flame?

It’s music to her ears. And to her soul.