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What might very well be the last few hours of her life were passing by, and Chloe was helpless to do anything about it.
All she could do was lie there and try not to think that she could be dead before the sun set. Try not to think that when Trixie got up to get a drink, she might never hug her daughter again. Try to smile for her and Dan, to act like fear wasn’t twisting through her veins along with the poison, or that she couldn’t feel her body shutting down bit by bit. She had to be strong for them, and hope that by willing herself to be all right, she would be.
But with Dan back from trying to track down a lead and the way he was carefully telling her nothing more than we’re working on it, don’t worry, you’ll be fine, she knew they’d come up with nothing. And the way that Lucifer wasn’t there at all told her just how bad it was. She didn’t think he’d had any new ideas on how to find the antidote. He wouldn’t lie to her like Dan was doing, and he never did know how to handle difficult things well.
He thought she was going to die.
There was nothing else to do but wait and hope that something turned up out of nowhere, or that Carlisle hadn’t done as good a job with this one, or that she hadn’t gotten enough of a dose during their scuffle. Wait, and hope that the doctors could manage the effects of the poison long enough to work out a solution. But that hope was thin on the ground, and being crushed more and more with every second that passed.
When Dan took Trixie out for a break and to give her some rest, she was left alone for a few minutes. Fatigue was gnawing at her; she was starting to feel sleepy, and closing her eyes to take a nap sounded like a great idea. It made her even more terrified. A raw, electric fear was humming along her every nerve. She was afraid that if she fell asleep now, she’d never wake up again.
Fumbling for her phone, she pulled up her recent calls list and found Lucifer’s name at the top. She tapped it to call him, but he didn’t answer.
She texted him. If you’re here, come in. Please. I need you.
He didn’t reply. After another two minutes, she gave it up and set the phone aside again. Tears pricked her eyes, and she closed them, swallowing down the lump in her throat. She’d been strong all day. She couldn’t break down now.
The click of the door handle, and she opened her eyes. Then she sucked in an unsteady breath, one borne more from relief than anything. She let it out again, trying to let out some of her emotions along with it.
“Detective?” Lucifer asked softly, shutting the door behind him. He moved towards her, scanning her over from head to toe before meeting her gaze again. There was a kind of urgency in his eyes, but like he didn’t know what to do to help. “I… what is it? What do you need?”
A lot of things, and most she wasn’t likely to get. So she asked for the one thing he could give her. “Will you sit with me? Just for a minute.”
The urgency faded to the sheer worry and fear she’d seen him carry ever since he’d found her with a bloody nose. There was no hiding it. He opened his mouth and closed it again before saying, “Yes. Yes, of course.”
He pulled up the chair Dan had been using and sat down, his eyes moving everywhere but to her face. She said, “I know you’ve been avoiding me.”
That got him to look at her again. He tried to smile, but she saw right through it. “I’ve just been… busy, trying to—”
She shook her head. “Don’t. Please. Not now, not with this.”
He blew out a breath. “Detective, I don’t…”
“I know you don’t have the answers,” she said. “I know you don’t have any way of getting them, either. You don’t have to say it.” That heat was back in her eyes as she finally voiced the thoughts she’d been trying so hard to deny. She sucked in another breath, one that was halfway to a sob. But this time, she didn’t try to swallow it back. The tears finally followed.
She had to be strong for everyone else, but right now, alone with Lucifer, she let him see. She probably couldn’t have held it back if she tried, anyway. The grief and fear and pain were threatening to choke her.
“Detective,” Lucifer said, leaning forward. He clasped her hand. “What is it? Do you need the doctor? I don’t know what…”
To do, he didn’t finish. He didn’t know what to do. About this, or the actual problem at hand.
There was nothing either of them could do.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’m just really, really scared, Lucifer.”
She could feel it, how much the poison was wracking her body. They’d given her plenty of medication, but she still ached all over. Nausea roiled in her stomach. She felt lightheaded sometimes, just like when she’d passed out last night. It was worse than any illness she’d ever had, because despite it all, her mind was clear. Clear, and feeling the poison despite the pain meds, and alight with the fear and knowledge that it was only going to get worse.
Their guts slowly start boiling, Ella had said, her voice ringing through Chloe’s mind for the hundredth time. She didn’t think anything the doctors gave her would make it a painless death.
And after…
“I don’t want to die,” she whispered, the tears rolling freely now. “But I’m going to. Aren’t I?”
He was cradling her hand in both of his now. “Detective,” he said, stricken. His own voice was thick, too. “Detective, I will do everything in my power to make sure that you don’t.”
“But you can’t promise,” she said.
He hesitated. “No,” he finally said, sounding like the word cost him everything. “No, I can’t promise you won’t. I’m sorry, Chloe.”
She closed her eyes again. One of his hands lifted from hers, and then she felt his touch again a second later. Incredibly light and gentle, he set his hand on her cheek and used his thumb to wipe away the tears, brushing back the strands of hair that’d gotten stuck to her skin.
She only opened her eyes when he stopped. His hand returned to hers, thumb moving back and forth along her wrist instead. Chloe twined her fingers through his, holding on to him, too. She was keenly aware that this might be the last moment of quiet closeness they ever shared.
For a little while they stayed like that while she calmed down, her breathing returning to normal. The tears had stopped, and though nothing was okay, she no longer felt like she was being completely crushed by the weight of it all. There was just enough room to breathe.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said.
He frowned. “For what?”
“I just am.” For not being careful enough. For not getting the chance to explore the feelings they might have had for each other. For not getting any time to be together. She was sorry for getting killed and for it taking just long enough to put everyone through hell first. Waiting here like this, knowing it was over but holding out hope anyway… it was only making things harder on all of them, even though she would take every second she could get.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. She was taken aback by the sudden intensity in his voice, his expression. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing.”
She nodded, just once, and it seemed to appease him. She said, “I kind of wish you really were the devil, you know.”
He looked startled now. “What?”
“So you could… I don’t even know.” She felt stupid for saying it, but he was already seeing her at her actual lowest. It didn’t seem to matter anymore. “Do something to fix it, I guess. It would be nice, to have someone with supernatural abilities just… clap their hands and make it all go away.”
The surprise turned back to helplessness. “I wish I could,” he said. “But it doesn’t work like that. Believe me, Detective… if I could, I would have fixed it in a heartbeat.”
“I know,” she said. “Then just… just keep pretending. Tell me there really is an afterlife, that there’s at least a dim light at the end of this tunnel. That even if I can’t be here, this isn’t just it, not just the end.” She’d never believed in it, not really. It felt like a story people told themselves to feel better about death and the unfairness of life. And even if there was one, she would give anything to put off going there for a long, long time yet. It was a paltry comfort.
But it was all she had.
“That, at least, I can do,” he said. “No need to pretend. It is real. I swear it.”
He believed in a lot of things that couldn’t be true. But just this once, she wanted to believe him.
“And though I will still do whatever I can to keep you from it for as long as possible, you shouldn’t worry,” he said. “Hell is no place for you. I wouldn’t…” He swallowed. “I wouldn’t ever see you again, but you’d be fine in the Silver City. As far away from anything to be afraid of as you could be. Unlike that—”
He froze, eyes widening, face going slack.
“What?” she asked.
He didn’t respond right away. And then, unbelievably, that heaviness lifted. “You’re right,” he said. “I am the devil. And there is an afterlife.”
She never did understand him when he got like this, and regretted bringing it up. But she guessed if it made him feel better, then that was enough.
“What were you angry about before?” she asked, wanting to talk about something else now. Anything else. “Last night, when… when you found me.” She’d been wondering about that while he’d been off with Dan earlier, that moment when she’d become a victim, too. She’d been in a near panic, and then Lucifer had burst in as if he’d known something was wrong.
Only that wasn’t it. She’d been too focused on her nosebleed to note it at the time, but later, she’d recalled the way he’d yelled for her. The anger that’d disappeared an instant later.
She’d thought things were fine between them. Better than fine. So if there was something she didn’t know about that they needed to clear up…
He shook his head. It was like he’d been reenergized, or something. “It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “I wasn’t angry with you. Only my parents. And they can wait.”
So much for changing the topic.
His hands tightened on hers for a second before he let go entirely. He stood up so abruptly that Chloe just blinked. “What are you—”
“I have to go,” he said.
She should have expected that. She’d already asked a lot of him. But as he made to move around the bed, she reached out and caught his sleeve. “Wait. Wait, just…”
He paused, turning back to her. “I have to try one more thing,” he said. “And it’ll take some doing. I need to go, now.”
She didn’t want to build any hope up again. But she couldn’t tell him not to try. “Just. If you know you can’t… if it…” She swallowed, and let go of him. “After you try. Please come back.”
She didn’t want to be alone, not at the end, as selfish as it was. And she couldn’t let Trixie be there when it turned bad.
His eyes softened. “Of course, Detective.” He gave her another brief smile, and though this wasn’t a real one either, it was different. Whatever he thought he could do was giving him all the hope she wouldn’t give herself. “You just get some rest and hang on, all right? I’ll take care of this. I will.”
She nodded, and he left. The door clicked shut gently in his wake.
For the next few minutes she turned those parting words over. How he’d told her he couldn’t make any promises before, but then he’d all but made a promise anyway.
I’ll take care of this. I will.
Maybe he was just trying to make it true, declaring it to the universe like a dare. But maybe… maybe whatever idea he’d gotten really was a solid one.
Trixie came back in then, snuggling right up to Chloe. She hugged her daughter, trying to believe this wasn’t for the last time, either. She thought of Lucifer. How he’d always come through for her when she needed him most.
A little bit of hope bloomed deep inside anyway. She clung to it, needing to be strong again.
Maybe there was the smallest chance in hell she’d survive this after all.
What felt like days later—for him, it might as well have been—Lucifer took up his place in the chair next to Chloe’s bed again. She was sleeping, getting the rest she so badly needed. They’d been able to give her the antidote a little while ago, and after verifying that it was indeed working, they’d let Lucifer into the room.
It gave him no small amount of relief to know that it was working. His trip to hell, getting sucked into his loop—all of it worth it. He hadn’t been too late, despite his own stupidity. Chloe would survive.
It’d been all he needed at first, but not anymore.
He sat there now, looking up at her every now and then, feeling the ghost of terror brushing over him again. She’d come so close to dying. And he so very nearly hadn’t been able to save her, first from not having any idea how to, and then from almost getting trapped in hell.
He’d never felt more helpless in his entire life then when he’d realized there was nothing he could do to save her. Not even when he’d fallen.
Especially when Chloe had asked for him and told him how scared she was, too. Lucifer had never seen her cry before, not like that. Desperate and hurting and afraid. Turning to him for comfort. He'd thought he couldn't give her any, but she'd calmed down again, had even asked him to come back and stay with her. No one had ever turned to him for comfort, not once. Not until he’d met her.
She shouldn't feel that way. It wasn't real.
But he so badly wished it was.
He felt hollow, utterly wrung out. All those endless punches, being hurt in ways he didn't know he could be hurt. Yesterday—how was it just yesterday?—he’d thought he'd found something real with her, feelings he'd never known to want. For two glorious days, he'd gotten to experience what it was to be wanted like that. And then it had all come crashing down. Learning it wasn't real after all, finding Chloe with a bloody nose and realizing what it meant, seeing her collapse, returning to hell again and then almost giving in to his own guilt…
He couldn't do it anymore. Any of it.
He was so tired of the games and manipulation. He was tired of the crushing hope that Chloe always gave him.
It would be cruel to dump the truth on her now, when she'd only just started to recover from her own ordeal. But he couldn't keep hiding anymore. He couldn't let her go on like this, a pawn in these games too, oblivious to it all. And when she decided she was done with him after… Well. That would be best for her. Her feelings would finally be her own again, and this way, she wouldn't get caught up in his mother's machinations.
He might have been able to save her life this time because he was the devil, but this kind of thing was a rarity. She would be fine now. Remaining close to him would only be to her detriment.
Beyond all of that… he simply needed her. It was too hard keeping that pain to himself. He’d come to rely on her, and so this one last time, he’d be selfish enough to do it again. He would tell her everything so that she, in turn, could tell him what he needed to hear—that they could never have something real, and that he should stay away from her.
It would give him the strength he needed to leave.
Chloe woke up in the hospital bed yet again, and this time, Lucifer was sitting next to her.
He’d come back just as she’d asked. Much more than that. He’d kept his promise; somehow, against all odds, he’d found the formula they needed.
She’d only briefly been conscious earlier when a nurse had told her. Things had gotten worse; after she’d fallen asleep with Trixie, she’d started seizing, and then she’d woken in a feverish state. Sweating, weak, cramps churning in her belly. She’d flitted in and out of consciousness for a while, sick and afraid when she was awake, dreaming of long stretches of cold nothing when she wasn’t. Wandering, lost, through empty corridors. A different sort of fear had held her then. One of dread, where she desperately wanted to get away but couldn’t.
It’d felt quite literally like she was halfway dead already. Maybe she had been. Though the nurse hadn’t said one more minute and you’d have been done for, the look on her face had been one of pure relief as she’d told her they had the antidote. Chloe only vaguely remembered it—voices that’d sounded distant, words that she'd mistaken for a dream at first. Until she'd woken again later and no longer felt quite so sick.
“How are you feeling?” the nurse had asked, after Chloe had opened her eyes.
“Okay,” she'd answered automatically, and then realized just how true that was. The pain had faded, leaving only the aches behind. She felt in control of her thoughts again, too.
“It worked,” the nurse said, smiling at her. Not one of the fake ones Chloe had been getting all day, but a real one. “The antidote is working. If you keep improving like this… I do believe you'll be all right.”
It took a second for the words to sink in. You'll be all right.
“How?” she asked.
“I don't know exactly. From what I gathered, your partner showed up with the formula we needed.”
Lucifer. He'd pulled through for her. Of course, he had.
He always did.
Real. This was real. She'd been so sure she was going to die, but she wasn’t.
She would get to walk out of here. Go back to her life. Hug her daughter as many times as she liked, or as much as Trixie would tolerate anyway. Talk to Lucifer—really talk to him, without all that fear getting in the way. Figure out what they had between them.
Be happy and live. She'd get to live.
Tears filled her eyes again, and she closed them, a whole new—and far more welcome—set of emotions running through her.
“It'll take some time for it to fully work its way out of your system,” the nurse said. “And it'll probably take even longer for you to be back at one hundred percent. Sleep some more if you can.”
Chloe was still plenty exhausted enough for that. Her entire body felt tired. It took no time at all for her to drift off again, but this time, it wasn't because she couldn't stay awake. There was a peacefulness to it that'd been missing before. And that peace followed her into her dreams, too.
Late afternoon sunlight was filtering through the blinds when she next woke; she'd slept a few hours, probably. She felt even better now. Still tired, but more like how she felt when she simply hadn't gotten enough sleep after a long day.
And there was Lucifer. Sitting in the chair by her bed again, obviously waiting for her to wake up. Relief and gratitude welled up through her at the sight of him.
She was still alive, and she would get to live a while longer yet. And it was all because of him.
He smiled at her. It was only a small smile, but it was so beautiful to see. “Well, look who's back,” he said. “You didn't die after all.”
She smiled back and reached for him, taking his hands like he’d done for her before. “I heard you saved me,” she said. “Thank you.”
Lucifer’s smile faded as he looked down. “Call it a team effort,” he said. “You should thank the others, not me. Ella, Linda, Maze, Amenadiel—even that useless man who has the nerve to call himself a detective. Well. I suppose not so useless today.”
“All of them?” she asked, surprised to hear Linda’s and Amenadiel’s names. “What even happened? How did you get the formula?”
Lucifer didn’t answer her. He merely let their fingers tangle together before squeezing her hand, just a little. When he looked back up at her, his expression was solemn. “I was thinking a lot, while I was sitting here waiting. That there are things you need to know. And even though I didn’t want to tell you before…” He swallowed. “I think I should, now.”
“Okay,” she said, taken by surprise again. “Whatever you want to tell me. You know I’m here for you.”
The words had the opposite effect as intended. He looked pained by them instead of being reassured.
Something had happened. Much more than she’d thought.
“It won’t be pleasant,” he said, searching her gaze. “So be very careful when you say that. Because if you don’t want me to, I won’t.”
She didn’t know what he wanted to hear, or what he was looking for in her expression. But there was only one answer she would ever give to that. She carefully squeezed his hand in turn and said, “I’d want to know. If it troubles you, then I want you to be able to share that burden. That’s what partners do.”
“This is worse than whatever you’re thinking, Detective.”
“Tell me anyway. You listened when I needed to tell someone how I really felt earlier today. Now it’s my turn.”
“This is different,” he said, almost desperately. Chloe could see it now. How he badly wanted to tell her, but seemed determine to convince her she didn’t want to hear it.
As if he could ever scare her away. She said, “You don’t have to hide. Not from me.”
Lucifer held her gaze for another long moment, and then slowly nodded. “You asked me how I got the formula,” he said. “We looked, but we couldn’t find any trace of it. Carlisle truly never wrote it down, it seems. He was the only one who knew. So…” He let out a breath. “I went to him directly. In hell.”
Chloe’s heart sank a little. More metaphors. More truth that wasn’t the truth.
But she wouldn’t complain. She’d just let him talk. If it helped him, that was what mattered most right now. “So that’s the idea you had?” she asked. “Before, when we were talking? You realized you could get to him, because you’re the devil.”
He gave her a wry sort of smile. “You don’t believe me.”
She opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to lie, either.
“I didn’t expect you to. But it is the truth, Detective.” He looked down again, eyes almost closed.
When he looked back up, they were red.
She blinked, a pulse of adrenaline rushing through her.
They were red red. Red like fire. Red like…
“Hell,” she whispered. That was hell looking back at her. It wasn’t just his eyes; his whole face was like that, transformed into something that couldn’t have been more different from the person she knew. The full effect of a reflection she thought she’d seen long ago, but had been so sure must not be real.
There was nothing human about that face. There was only fire and pain and fear.
Her breath quickened as she stared, and stared, and stared. “You… you…”
“Am the devil. Yes. As I kept telling you.”
Everything she’d thought she believed came crashing down around her. All her misgivings flashed through her mind again, every time she’d seen something she couldn’t explain when it came to Lucifer.
Not a metaphor. Not just his version of the truth.
Everything he’d ever told her was real.
She blinked, and the red vanished just like that. His face was that of her partner again, pale and stubbled and clouded with exhaustion. Any trace of that fire in his eyes had been replaced with the warm brown she knew so well. But Chloe didn’t have to see it twice to know that there was no game, no trick to it. She’d felt how real it was, right down to her very soul.
“Now you believe me,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question.
She made herself take a deep breath, looking away. Then a second, and a third.
Lucifer was the devil, and that meant that heaven and hell were both real, too. God was real. That afterlife really existed.
And her partner had saved her life by talking to a dead man. Someone he was responsible for torturing, too.
Except he wasn’t, was he? He was sitting right here next to her instead. He hadn’t thought to ask Carlisle in hell until she’d given him the idea.
He obviously didn’t spend much time there, if he’d been solving murders with her for the last year, and running Lux even longer.
Just like that, any image she’d had of him surrounded by that same kind of fire in hell was replaced with all her actual memories of him. Helping her solve case after case. Endlessly teasing her while never making her feel like she was a lesser person. Stealing snacks at the precinct before walking into danger to help someone he didn’t even know, all because he cared about right and wrong. And yes, his eagerness to punish those who harmed others, too.
All the missteps he made. All the times he got it exactly right.
Playing the piano with her. Dancing with her at Lux like there was no place else he’d rather be. Telling her how much he cared about her, in his own words on the beach, before she’d kissed him.
The way he’d looked at her when he’d realized she’d been poisoned. The smile he’d given her when she’d woken up just minutes ago.
He was giving her another smile now, but one tinged in sadness, like he was braced for the worst. It won’t be pleasant, he’d told her. And the way he’d seemed so sure she would react badly to it…
He glanced down. A tug on her fingers made her realize how tightly she’d been gripping his hand. “Detective…”
“Sorry.” She relaxed her grip a little.
“Why on earth are you apologizing to me?” he asked. “I’m the one who should be doing that.”
So he hadn’t done it because she was hurting him. He made to pull away again, but she held fast. “Wait.”
He looked back up at her in surprise, and she swallowed. “Okay, so. You really are the devil, and you really went to hell just now to get the formula.”
“Yes,” he said evenly.
“Okay,” she said again, still trying to wrap her mind around it. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeated, as if in disbelief. “That’s it?”
“I’m working on it,” she said. “On… you know. All of it.” She gestured vaguely with her other hand.
One thing at a time, right? Her partner was the devil. Okay. He’d gone to hell to get the formula. That made sense now, too.
The rest would have to follow later, because all those implications still didn’t feel quite real. What felt real to her in that moment was Lucifer, his hand warm in hers, the care with which he was looking at her even now.
The devil had saved her life time and again. That one wish of hers had been true after all.
Maybe it was ridiculous of her to think so right then, but she felt so incredibly lucky to have him there. Caring for her.
Lucifer obviously didn’t expect her to be feeling that way. He shook his head and said, “You shouldn’t be okay with any of it. Certainly not with me.”
“I told you I’d want to know,” she said. “I told you I’m here for you, and I meant it. Just like you’re here for me.”
He shook his head again. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Why do you want me to… to be afraid of you, or something? That’s it, isn’t it? You want me to run.”
“I don’t want you to run,” he said. “But it’s not good for you. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Irritation sparked through her despite everything. “Don’t tell me I don’t know what’s good for me,” she said. “Or how I should be feeling. I get that it was hard for you to finally tell me—I get why you’d think I’d be afraid. But I thought we were past that point. The fact that I’m alive at all, talking to you now, is proof enough that I should be glad to know you.”
“I don’t mean physically,” he said. “That’s not everything you need to know, Detective.”
“Then tell me the rest.”
“Your feelings aren’t your own. I’m not the one dictating them. My father is.”
She stared at him. His father. As in, God. “What are you talking about?”
Lucifer tried to tug his hand away again. This time, she let him. “I just found out last night that you were only born to be put in my path. My father instructed Amenadiel to bless your mum when she was trying to have a child. And now here you are, the first person to ever… to ever be this close to me. Immune to my ability to draw out desires. Developing…” He hesitated. “Feelings for me. Even now, telling me you’re not afraid of me being the devil. It’s all a manipulation. Everything you think and feel about me is by design, to hurt me. And in doing so, it hurts you.”
Chloe had no idea what she was supposed to do with that. Lucifer finished talking and sat there, fiddling with a cufflink, looking over to the side and the long rectangle of golden light on the floor that was beginning to narrow now. There was nothing but raw pain on his face, like every word had cut him.
“Why?” she asked, still trying to absorb that news. That she only existed because of some literal, actual blessing by God himself. For a reason. And that reason had to do with Lucifer. To hurt him, somehow. It sounded too ridiculous to be real, but after having to accept Lucifer really was the devil, and with how much he clearly was hurt by it… maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched. “Why do that? Any of that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, sounding so hopeless. “Punishment for me. Amusement for my father, maybe. He likes to play games. And with me refusing to go back to hell, well.” He laughed once, a sound so wrong that Chloe cringed. “This way I still lose.”
Refusing to go back to hell. God had forced him to run hell, and he’d tried to leave, and that was why he was here at all. “You don’t know why. But you’re sure that my feelings aren’t my own.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” he said hollowly.
Apparently when she was in shock, her training as a detective took over, because she could only focus on the details. They seemed to matter quite a lot. “What do you actually know for sure?”
“That Amenadiel passed on the blessing,” he said, turning back to her. “And that you’re immune to my mojo, as you call it.”
Okay. So those things were real, and they couldn’t know why. But she was alive regardless of how it’d happened, and being immune to his mojo seemed like the least important part of this right now. “But you don’t know anything else.”
“I…”
“You just assumed. That because I wanted to start something with you, it can’t possibly be real. That I wouldn’t want to know you all on my own.”
It hurt to hear that, both for him to doubt her, and for him to believe so readily that no one would ever care about him like that.
“Look at what it led to, Detective. My father knew we’d meet. It’s all by design.”
She closed her eyes, struggling to work this out. She couldn’t accept that her feelings weren’t real, she just couldn’t. “I’m not a robot, Lucifer,” she said. “I love my parents. I love my daughter. I care about Dan and Ella and Maze—who I guess really is a demon, and I’ll have to deal with that later—and yes, I care about you, too.”
She opened her eyes again, once more blinking back tears, of frustration and her very real feelings towards the person sitting next to her. “I know what it’s like to care about someone. I know what it entails. I didn’t just fall head over heels in love with you from day one—it was the opposite, in fact. I don’t know why I was born. I can’t argue with you that I’m the only one you can’t charm. But don’t tell me that that’s the only reason I kissed you, or that I couldn’t possibly be okay with you being the devil otherwise.”
“Detective…” he started.
“No. Don’t keep insulting me.”
He blinked, like she’d shocked him. “I’m not trying to insult you.”
“Well, you are. You’re still trying to tell me what I should be feeling, no matter how much you insist you’re not. You’re trying to tell me I don’t know my own mind.”
“That’s the last thing I want to do, but it doesn’t change the truth.”
“You don’t know the full truth.”
The building across the street eclipsed the last of the sun, leaving the room darker than it’d been only moments ago. They just looked at each other, locked in this battle. Chloe didn’t even know what she was fighting, not fully, but she knew that this was one thing too far. She couldn’t deal with it.
“Look,” she said. “Earlier today, I thought I was going to die. I was scared and alone and all I wanted was for you to be there with me.”
“That’s exactly the problem,” he said, but weakly, like he was growing tired of fighting this, too.
“No. It wasn’t because I was so besotted with you that I couldn’t think of anything else. I wanted you there, because you’re the one person I can be open with. The one person who would tell me the hard truth. I wanted you there because you see me the way no one else does. And I wanted the comfort that comes from that. From knowing that I could just be myself, and that you’d be there for me no matter what. There was no performance. There was just you and me, facing that truth together.”
Lucifer opened his mouth. Closed it again.
“You care about me,” she went on. “I know you do. And I won’t presume to know why, but I know that it’s not just because I happened to exist in your presence. And it’s the same for me.”
She shifted, bracing her hands on the bed while she tried to sit up. Lucifer was half out of his chair in an instant, reaching for her without making contact. “Detective—”
She managed to keep herself upright, ignoring her body’s protests. It could deal. “Just sit here,” she said, patting the edge of the bed.
He hesitated a moment, and then did so, with obvious reluctance. They were much closer now, only a foot separating them. On the same level in a way she much preferred.
“I care about you, because I see you, too,” she said softly. “I know you—maybe not the devil stuff, but you. Because you let me in, too. Because you’re a person worth caring about. We were friends long before I kissed you, and that can’t be faked. It takes work on both our parts. If you don’t want to start a relationship now, that’s fine. We can figure out exactly what the score is together and talk about it when we’re both ready. But there is nothing—absolutely nothing—you could say to me right now to convince me that my feelings aren’t my own.”
Lucifer let out a long, slow breath. “I want them to be,” he said quietly. “You have no idea how much I want this to be real.”
“Then believe me, the way I believed you earlier, when you told me you’d fix things,” she said. “I don’t know your father, and I don’t know anything about this manipulation stuff, but I can tell you for sure that this isn’t part of it. You don’t lie to me, and I don’t lie to you, either.”
Slowly, like he was ready for her to flinch away at any second, he reached up and smoothed her hair back behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her skin, warm and welcome. “You were supposed to tell me to get lost,” he murmured. “That I was right and shouldn’t be part of your life, because you’d only get hurt.”
“Well, you’re never going to hear those words from me unless you decide to hurt me yourself,” she said. “And somehow I’m doubting that’ll ever happen.”
“You could get hurt anyway,” he said. “Unintentionally, or by others’ doing because of me…”
She put her hand on top of his to hold it in place, before he could let it fall away. “I accepted that a long time ago. That’s what being vulnerable means. I trust you, and the rest… it’s worth it.”
“Even now?” he asked. “Now that you know I’m really the devil?”
“Sure,” she said, smiling a little. “It’s not like that’s a recent development. You’ve been the devil this whole time. Now I just finally get to know why you do bizarre things.”
The smallest laugh escaped his lips. A real one this time, even if it was a little incredulous. “It’s the same for me, you know,” he said. “I wanted to tell you the truth because I couldn’t deal with it alone, and you’re the only person I could turn to. Even though I was sure you’d want nothing to do with me… I wanted that hard truth. I wanted to be myself with you. I’m so tired of the games, Detective.”
She nodded, lowering their hands together. “Then be yourself with me. And I’ll do the same with you. Even when it’s hard.”
“And I cannot believe you don’t know why I care about you,” he said. “I could name a thousand reasons. Starting with how clever and capable you are, and ending with the very fact that you’re here telling me you still care about me, when anyone else would be terrified right now.”
Her smile widened. “I mean, I know a little,” she said. “But you should feel free to tell me the rest sometime, too. I believe that’s nine hundred and ninety-seven reasons left to go.”
He laughed again, more openly now, breaking up the last of the tension they’d both carried. “All right, then. Maybe I will.”
“We’ll figure this out,” she said. “Together. I’m not going anywhere.”
He nodded. “Then I won’t, either.”
Just as hesitantly as he’d reached for her before, he held out his arms. It took her a second longer than it should have for her to figure out what he was asking, though, because she didn’t think he’d ever initiated a hug with her before.
She leaned forward, closing the rest of the gap, and embraced him. His arms wrapped around her, his face burrowing into the crook of her neck. For a long minute she just relaxed into him, breathing in that comforting scent that was so definably Lucifer, glad for his warmth and all that it represented. Safety. Companionship. Love.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” he murmured. “You have no idea how scared I was for you.”
“I think I have some idea,” she said. “It was kind of all over your face.”
“Mmm.”
“Thank you,” she said. “For saving me. And for just being you.” She drew in a deep breath and winced, before finally accepting that she was at her limit. Her abdomen ached, the effort of sitting up and folding herself into a hug too much now. She wasn’t going to have a choice in a moment. “Sorry,” she said, letting go of him and settling back against the pillows. “It’s not you. It’s so annoying, how hard it is to do anything right now…”
He shook his head, smoothing her hair back again. “Don’t apologize. You should have told me it was uncomfortable. I never would have… and you just said you’d be open with me…”
She smiled. “I was being open with you. I wanted that hug, too.”
“Are you still in a lot of pain? I can get the doctor, make them help you—”
“No,” she said, trying not to laugh. “No, I’m okay.” It was more than worth it.
Lucifer looked out towards the window, the lengthening shadows. “It’s been a long day,” he said.
“Understatement of the year.”
“You should get some rest.”
“Later,” she said. She was still exhausted, but she didn’t want to sleep. Not right now. “Talk to me for a while? There’s still so much I don’t know…”
He hesitated, and she realized then that he must be exhausted, too. Unless he didn’t need to sleep, or something. “But if you also need the rest—”
“No,” he said quickly. “I mean, I’ll sleep later. If you want me to stay, I will.”
“Okay.”
He settled back into the chair. “Is there anything in particular you want to know?”
“Not really. I don’t even know what I don’t know. Just… tell me something that’s not too difficult.” She thought back over their conversation, looking for something she hadn’t understood. “Like how Linda and Amenadiel were involved?”
“Ah…” Lucifer ran a hand through his hair. It was only then that she noticed how messy it’d gotten around the edges. Another sign of just how long of a day this had been. “That is actually not a simple story. It’s perhaps best left for another day.”
“Okay…” she said, wondering what could possibly be complicated about that. “Your mojo, then. How does it really work?”
“Yes, that is a bit easier. Though there’s not much to tell that you haven’t already seen…”
The sky darkened as they talked, and talked, and talked. And when Chloe was finally too drowsy to keep going, Lucifer said he’d leave her to rest, with the promise that he’d be back in the morning.
He didn’t actually leave, though. Instead he took her hand again, a familiar comfort now. “There are some other things I think I want to tell you, too,” he said. “About how I acted after your car accident, and why I needed help getting the formula.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” she said. “I’ll be here.”
He nodded. “And I… I’ll be here, too. I mean, I’ll wait until you fall asleep to head out. If… if you want me to.”
“Okay,” she mumbled. She was on her side, eyes already closing despite her efforts to keep them open. Hearing him say that made her feel even more content and secure. “Only ’cause it won’t take long. You should get some sleep, too. If you, you know. Need it.”
The last thing she saw was his faint smile, before her eyes fell all the way shut. “Yes. I do need sleep.”
“Then you should sleep, too.” Had she said that already? She was too tired to care.
“I will.”
“Good.” She could feel her own faint smile on her lips.
Hand curled in his, she gave in, and fell asleep more easily than she ever had before.