Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There are secrets behind those eyes. The more she tries to figure them out, the less she can make sense of. For a little while there, when he was being cagey, she thought maybe he was some underground, dangerous criminal. She would’ve lost a partner, a friend. But that’s not it. Whatever is going on with Lucifer, it’s something beyond the confines of detective work— at least, traditional detective work.

She stops searching. Not because she doesn’t want to know, but because she doesn’t want things to change. Whatever he’s hiding, it’s big. She’s worried it’ll change everything. Plus, sometimes she thinks it’s better not to know. She stops looking in his eyes sometime after Candy.

She can’t escape him, though. Even she’s not immune to that magnetic pull he seems to have. The way he charms and slips into people’s lives. She’s not like other people; it’s not mindless with her. She doesn’t fall to his feet— well, as desperately as others. Or maybe she does… just in a different way.

Even when she flees to another country, she can’t get away. She looks for answers, digs for clues, searches for lies (and finds none, obviously— it’s Lucifer). His eyes burn in the back of her mind, some secrets laid bare and others firmly hidden. She has the chance to figure out all of it. Three years ago, she would’ve killed for the chance.

But today, now, she just hides away. Waits. Believes someone’s lies over his truth.

Regrets.

Chapter Text

Chloe had gotten used to the easy banter between her and Lucifer. The light jests and playful jabs. Talking to him had always been easy, effortless. You can’t deny that there’s a connection between us, he’d said when they first met. She’d scoffed then, but he was right. There was something about them… but she never let herself get too close.

Until she did.

And now too much has happened. She doesn’t think Lucifer will ever really let her in. There’s so much she doesn’t know about him. So many ways they’re different. Still, she couldn’t help but… want. She thought, maybe, there was a chance for them to be something.

Then Lucifer disappears for two weeks, marries an “exotic dancer”, and comes back as if nothing had changed. As if none of it mattered to him. Maybe it didn’t. It probably didn’t.

She was just Chloe Decker, and nobody looked at Chloe Decker twice and still wanted her.

Despite all she hates him for it, hates herself for letting herself get so carried away— she misses that back-and-forth they had, the inside jokes, the way he let his eyes linger on her during stakeouts trying to figure her out. Sometimes, she’ll catch him looking at her in that same way, but there’s something else that lingers, too. It doesn’t feel right anymore.

Chapter Text

She could feel his eyes on her as she unclasped the bullet necklace and stuffed it into her pocket. She ignores the feeling she’s learned to associate with him looking at her in that way. The way he looked at her when she saw his scars. She pushes the memory away and puts on a motorcycle helmet she never would’ve looked at twice since she married Dan. She holds onto Pierce so hard she wonders how he can breathe.

When he drops her home, she wanders mindlessly up to her room, sits on her bed, and just stares blankly at the wall. She reaches into her pocket and takes out the necklace and rubs the bullet absentmindedly.

Happy Birthday, Detective.

An ache settles into her chest. How could so much have changed between them since that moment? He gave her the closest thing to a prom experience she would get— with a corsage, cheesy music, and slow dancing. Then two weeks later, pretends he couldn’t care less about her because a bomb scare freaks him out.

And here she is, still thinking about him when she should be thinking about Pierce. Pierce is far from perfect, but he tries. He’s put in the effort to let down his walls, let her in. Unlike someone.

She sighs, closes her fist around the necklace, and tucks it safely away in her safe. With it, any reservations she might have about moving on from him.

That chapter of her life is over now.

Chapter Text

Trixie’s not having a good day. There was so much traffic on their way to the soccer game Trixie’s almost late, and they were already running late because she couldn’t find her cleats. Mom can’t even come to the game, ‘cause she’s at some conference she couldn’t get out of. Trixie knows she’d be here if she could, but it’s her first big game since Dad died so neither of her parents are here. She feels utterly alone.

Lucifer, Maze, and Eve cheer for her in the stands. She looks at them and tries to pretend it’s Mom and Dad, imagines the looks on their faces if they were here. Maybe Dad’s watching, from wherever he is. Trixie wonders if he’s proud, then misses the ball flying into the goal. Damn it.

It’s the first game she loses.

“You’ll get ‘em next time,” Eve says, hugging her side.

Maze offers to threaten the referee at her next game. Instead of her usual laugh, Trixie brushes her off.

Lucifer offers to take her to get ice-cream, but she refuses.

She knows they’re trying to make her feel better, but she wishes they would just leave her alone. The two people she actually wants to be here aren’t. It’s none of their faults, but being angry at them makes Trixie feel better.

When they get back to the apartment, Lucifer unpacks her soccer stuff from the car.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he asks her.

“No,” she seethes.

“You must be hungry,” he urges.

“I’m not.”

“Right. Well, you know where the snacks are. I’ll prepare dinner in a few hours.”

“Whatever.”

“I’ll be here if you need anything.”

For some reason, it’s that that sets Trixie off.

“I’m not your daughter!” she snaps at him.

She regrets it immediately, seeing the way he deflates. He opens his mouth to respond, but she doesn’t let him. She runs to her room and shuts the door.

Lucifer doesn’t follow.

She calls Mom. She’d told Trixie to try not to call unless it was important. This isn’t really that important. Too late to regret it now. Either way, her mom picks up immediately and switches it to FaceTime.

“Hey, monkey. What’s wrong?” she asks.

Trixie doesn’t cry, but her voice is shaky. “Today sucks.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Mom asks gently.

Trixie shakes her head. “I wish you were here.”

“I know, honey; I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I yelled at Lucifer. I didn’t mean to— I just… I got so angry for no reason.”

She braces herself for Mom’s scolding, but it doesn’t come.

“I’m sure it wasn’t for no reason. Just talk to him, babe. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Trixie hesitates. Mom changes the subject and they talk until the time difference catches up to them.

She walks shamefully into the kitchen, ready to apologize. Lucifer beats her to the punch.

“I know I’m not your father,” he tells her. “But I do care for you, urch— Trixie.”

“I know,” she says, and rushes to hug him. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s quite alright,” Lucifer huffs.

“You’re a good step-Devil,” she whispers.

Lucifer hugs her back a little more tightly.

Chapter Text

Lucifer throws another blood-soaked towel into his walk-in closet as he hisses in pain. His wings are so bloody inconvenient; even getting rid of them is tedious. Inevitably, they’ll pop back up again in an hour or so and he’ll have to do this all over again. Who has the time? One wing down, another to go. He digs one of Maze’s knives under his wing, slicing off that way as much as he can.

He hates the wings almost as much as he hates his father. He hates the reminder of the angel, of S—

Bloody hell, that hurts.

He presses another wet towel under the cut half (dry ones hurt much more to peel off, he’d learned). He chops off the top half as quickly as he can. Fortunately, nobody’s around to hear him yell in pain. This hurt much less when Maze was doing it. Then again, it was just chop and chop. This is, well, four times that. Unfortunately, he’s not as good with a knife as Maze is (though he comes close).

He searches for another towel— bollocks, he’s only got two left. He doesn’t think he can very well take bloodied towels to the dry cleaners. They’d ask too many questions he doesn’t have the patience for.

Now, where were the bandages? Somewhere in the bathroom—there. Ah, and another towel. Lucky him.

He repeats it on his other wing, hoping he’ll last longer— ha!— before they pop out this time.

He stuffs his wings somewhere somewhat hidden in the walk-in closet and heads out to burn the towels in the back— he’d just pick up some more from the store on his way to work that morning.

The Detective must be worried sick wondering where he’s been the past few days while he was Devil-napped.

Chapter Text

Of the things Lucifer refuses to speak about, his father has never been one. He’d take any opportunity to air out his grievances. It was no surprise, then, that he’d get as far away from the bloody precinct as possible when Father had arrived.

Amenadiel, at first sight, had immediately forgiven ther father and was back to being good little soldier. Michael had gone straight to being his classic whiny self, pushing the blame on Lucifer and Amenadiel.

Lucifer had better things to worry about— like the favor he owed that dancer guy. The new hire is doing wonders for Lux. They’ve got more guests than usual tonight, but that might have something to do with Lucifer actually being there tonight. He knocks back drinks until he’s at least a bit tipsy.

The. Detective finds him like that, drowning his problems in whiskey. She leads him somewhere only slightly less loud.

“Hey, so what happened at the precinct?” she asks.

Bollocks. He knew he was forgetting something. She goes on about what was happening before Amenadiel froze time, but all Lucifer can think is of course. His dad has been back— what, half an hour— and has already managed to screw up the best thing in his life right now.

“Detective, I'm sorry,” he says. “I needed to get away. I couldn't take it anymore.”

“‘Take it’?” Chloe asks, confused.

“People!” he tries to explain. “Telling me what to do, especially—”

Father.

“Me?” Chloe realizes.

“No!” he says hurriedly. “No, Detective, I'm sorry, I—”

“It's okay. I-- I think I pushed you too far, and it wasn't fair of me to do that, and I get why you ran away.”

“But that's not why I ran.”

“No, I understand. I really do. Um… You know, I think maybe I'll just give you some time and when you're ready, I'll be ready to listen. Okay?”

Lucifer sighs and watches her walk away. What’s the point in trying to explain if she’d already made up her mind? And— perhaps it isn’t the worst thing in the world that she doesn’t know his father was here, on Earth. He’s given her enough celestial troubles lately.

Speaking of celestial troubles— he hoped Father was on his merry way back to the Silver City, where he belonged. Where Lucifer doesn’t anymore. Knowing him, it’s very unlikely. He loves to torture Lucifer, so much so that he banished him to the most torturous place in the universe. There’s not a thing his Father does that doesn’t frustrate Lucifer.

But what was perhaps most frustrating was one simple fact: for all his father’s cruelty, there was much more kindness. Lucifer just hadn’t ever been lucky enough to receive that gentle care he reserved for humanity. None of his children had, which was funny because they were literally created by him. How can you hate something you created?

Lucifer thinks of his Devil face.

He grabs a drink off a waitress’s tray and downs it in one go.

Chapter Text

Though Lucifer won’t admit it now, he used to look up to Amenadiel. In a year, when he needs help solving an issue he mostly created himself, he’ll tell Amenadiel so. Sometimes he envies his brother— always the good eldest brother. This is not one of those times.

“I’ll handle this,” Maze says, referring to an injured Amenadiel.

It’s impossible, Mazikeen, Lucifer wants to say.

“How?” he asks her instead.

“Find him,” Maze orders instead of answering.

“With pleasure,” Lucifer says, hoping Maze has a trick up her sleeve.

He doesn’t dare get his hopes up. It wouldn’t be the worst thing if Amenadiel— he had been trying to send Lucifer back to Hell. And revived a corrupt, murderer cop to murder him. And turned Maze against him.

But they’d fought together, and it almost felt like they were truly brothers again— almost. Amenadiel was on his side, once again, for the first time in millennia.

He’s just about to find Malcolm and tear the miscreant’s legs off (and his arms, and every other part of his body, one by one, slowly) when he sees the Detective. She aims her gun at him.

“Don’t move,” she orders.

Oh, wonderful; it’s like deja vu. He really does not have the time at the moment.

“Easy, Detective,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“You’re a hard man to find,” she comments.

He thinks of Amenadiel with a demon’s blade stab wound. With everything that’s happened tonight, the Detective believing he’s a murderer was about five disasters ago.

“Look, I know you think I’m a bad guy, but I’m simply trying to catch our dear friend Malcolm so I can tear his arms and legs off,” he explains. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“You know I can’t let you do that,” the Detective says.

Amenadiel’s time-slowing powers would come in real handy right about now.

“You don’t know what he’s done,” he says urgently. “You’d never believe me anyway, but all you need to know is that he’s here to get money and then he’s gonna disappear. For good.”

“You mean this money?” she kicks at a duffel bag. “I’m not here to arrest you, Lucifer. I know you’re innocent; I always have.”

What on Earth? She even put her gun away.

“Let’s catch this bastard together and put an end to all this,” she says.

She zips the duffel bag and carries it.

“Look at us, reunited, and it feels so good,” he says.

What’s more surprising— he genuinely means it. Fully and wholeheartedly, no loophole sentiments.

It seems his life is just full of mystery since the Detective entered it.

Chapter Text

Ever since Marcus Pierce entered the precinct, Chloe’s gut has been tingling. There’s something off about that guy, but she just can’t put her finger on why. Plus, he’s her boss, so running a parallel investigation on him is not the right move, especially after Palmetto. She has to lay low until she has hard evidence.

Lucifer hasn’t been helpful, with his crazy theories that Pierce is the Sinnerman and that he’s actually Cain… from the Bible. Usually, she lets him have his metaphors— whatever he needs to work through his issues. But this… it’s gone too far, now.

They’re at Lux, looking at their case file of when they put away the Sinnerman. Chloe hadn’t been certain he was the actual perp, but with no proof of anything untoward and a confession, she had no choice but to put him away. But just ‘cause that guy hadn’t been the Sinnerman didn’t mean Lieutenant Pierce was.

“Look at this photo,” Lucifer pleads. “This birthmark is in the same place as Pierce’s tattoo.”

“Oh, come on, Lucifer,” Chloe says. “There’s no way that’s Pierce. He’d have to be, like, 60 at least.”

“Pierce is much older than he looks,” Lucifer warns. “You shouldn’t underestimate him, Detective.”

He sighs and sifts through a few more papers, searching for… something.

“Pierce said the Sinnerman killed his brother,” Chloe says. “He holds a grudge against the guy. There’s no way he’s—”

Lucifer laughs humorlessly.

“That bastard,” he mutters. “The Sinnerman did kill his brother. Pierce is the Sinnerman; he killed his brother.”

Chloe sighs. Lucifer puts down his papers.

“Detective, Pierce is actually Cain,” Lucifer says firmly.

Chloe resists the urge to roll her eyes. This is not the time for his… craziness.

“He killed his brother, Abel. He told me himself… he also said you wouldn’t believe me. Of course you don’t,” Lucifer says.

“Lucifer, I respect what you believe, I do, okay? But I don’t believe that. I believe in right and wrong and I believe in the law,” Chloe tells him.

“You believe what you can see,” Lucifer adds.

“Yeah. Anyway, if you really believe Pierce is the Sinnerman, we need more proof than a photo of his arm around who we arrested. I had a feeling he was the accomplice…”

“I thought we weren’t to run a parallel investigation because you don’t wish to be ostracized by your peers again.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, but— if Pierce really is the Sinnerman, we’ve gotta put him away.”

“On that mark, I agree, Detective.”

Lucifer pushes back his chair. He takes a breath and seems to decide something.

“If we are to do this together, Detective, there’s something you have to know. I tried to show you earlier this year, but… well I—”

“Lucifer—”

“No, please. Just… allow me one moment.”

“Alright, fine. You really wanna do this, then let’s do it.”

A wave of emotion flits across Lucifer’s face for a brief moment, and then he hardens it.

“Alright,” he says quietly.

Chapter Text

After his Father left, Lucifer never thought he’d set foot in Hell again. Even if he could never go to Heaven, Hell no longer needed a ruler so why would he go back?

That was before Daniel was murdered.

For the first time, perhaps ever, Lucifer welcomes the ash and the torturous heat. He absentmindedly twists the bracelet Daniel had made him as he walks over to his friend’s cell. Bracelet bros, he reminds himself as he put on the cheeriest smile he can muster.

“Daniel!” he greets.

“Lucifer.” Dan looks over to Lucifer… and misses the ping-pong ball. “Damn it!”

“What’s the score?” Lucifer asks.

“Lost count 5,000 games ago, man. Are you any closer to figuring out how to get me outta here?”

“As I’ve said, your guilt is keeping you here. You need to find the source of it.”

“I’m trying, Lucifer! I’ve written down everything I could think of. It’s been thousands of years, man, and I’m stuck playing ping-pong with Belios. Which, honestly, is its own kind of torture. You’d think he’d be better at it by now.”

Lucifer sighs. The only way for him to find out what’s keeping Daniel here is to play out his loop, but he refuses to put his friend through that. He won’t stop until he finds another way.

“I’ve got to head back to Earth soon,” Lucifer says. “But I promise you— I will find a way for you to get out of here, Daniel. After all, if I, of all people, could get to Heaven— well, there’s no reason you can’t.”

“Good luck,” Daniel says, but his voice is emotionless as he continues playing ping-pong.

Chapter Text

Lucifer’s role as King of Hell doesn’t allow him much sway in the realm, but it does allow him a few powers— navigating Hell easily, stopping Loops, command over demons. He can also, if he chooses, let Loops go on but make himself… invisible, in a way. He can watch the Loops play out, the screams of the tortured silenced.

It’s not a power Lucifer uses very often, but sometimes he’ll find a Loop more manageable that way. It’s tiring hearing people beg, plead, scream in terror for mercy. He enjoys punishing, but even he tires of it every few million years. Mere years on Earth, but millions here, not that time quite exists here. Trying to explain the mechanics of time to the first few damned souls was an absolute nightmare, so he’d settled on telling them simply that time worked differently down here: seconds on Earth could be years here.

He’s due for another trip to Earth he thinks. It’s been much too long.

He flies up, puts his wings away after shocking a human. He’d forgotten how much mention or evidence of his divinity toys with their mind. It’s quite fun. He restocks his suit collection for something more suited to the current time period because he refuses to look like a “grandpa”.

He gets a good day to crash parties and turn them into orgies, ask a dozen people what their deepest, darkest desire is, and grant three people favors before Amenadiel crashes his party-turned-orgy the next morning.

He persuades his brother to allow him to say his “farewells”, but it must be his lucky day because Amenadiel loses his necklace. He knows just the favor to call in once he fills in his end of the bargain.

Chapter Text

You have a therapist. Talk to her, before it eats you alive.

Smashing advice. Now he has no therapist, no Uriel, the Detective is more annoyed with him than usual, Maze is pissed at him because he scared Linda… his only friend has become Daniel, of all people. He can’t seem to do anything right. Every time he stops drinking or working, the memory of driving Azrael’s blade into Uriel’s chest pops up. Everything after was blurry— going home to his mum, trying to explain, Uriel’s buried body with Azrael’s blade next to it. In the middle of nowhere, on Earth. Uriel would’ve absolutely hated it. Would’ve. Gone. Every killer must be punished.

Lucifer never understood human grief. If there was an afterlife, as so many believed there was, why would death be upsetting? He understands now.

“I wish for just one second you would think about someone other than yourself,” Maze spits out at him.

“And there we have it, ladies,” Lucifer says miserably. “My wake of destruction. Anyone else you need harmed?”

“Okay Lucifer, enough. I’m close to something, I can feel it,” the Detective demands. “Help.”

At least, if nothing else, he can do this.

“Fine,” he says.

Chapter Text

The lights are low when Chloe gets to the penthouse. Lucifer is at the piano, playing something she doesn’t recognize. They’ve settled into something of a routine, with all the changes in both their lives. Chloe as Lieutenant, him helping souls move to Heaven and working with his siblings.

When he comes to Earth, he usually goes to Lux first. At first, Chloe hadn’t understood why— why not go to her first… and Trixie. Didn’t he miss them? When she finally worked up the courage to ask, he’d told her that this place grounds him. It reminds him of who he truly is.

Hell is better, now that Lucifer is no longer in charge of torturing, but instead finding ways to help souls through their Loops. But it’s still Hell, and it’s still difficult.

So they came up with this: Lucifer would go to the penthouse first, take the time he needed, and text Chloe when he was ready. He always told Amenadiel a little while before he came to Earth when he was coming, so someone could watch over Trixie while Chloe was with Lucifer when he came back to Earth. That way, she and Lucifer can make the most of their time together, and then they have a game night with Trixie every day until he has to go back again.

Tonight’s a little different, because tonight—

“Happy Anniversary, my love,” Lucifer says softly as she sits on the piano bench.

“Happy Anniversary, partner,” Chloe says with a smile.

Tonight marks ten years of Lucifer becoming her consultant for the LAPD. Though he consults less these days, it’s as important to them both as their anniversary of getting together (which they usually celebrate with Ella and the rest of their friends— Ella insists).

Today is just for them.

Lucifer finishes the song he was playing and turns to Chloe.

“When I first… requested to work with you, it was for my own selfish reasons. A way to explore the new thrill of life that came with my mortality,” he says. “But, Chloe, it became something so much more. Something I never imagined I could have. I hope you know how eternally grateful I am to have you in my life.”

“I found you insufferable,” Chloe laughs. “But I knew there was something deeper beyond that… ridiculously arrogant man, even then. I hope one day you can see yourself the way I see you: as someone good.”

“I’m getting there,” he whispers. “Thanks to you. And Linda.”

“She’s a great therapist.”

“The best.”

They sit there for a while, playing Heart and Soul— and a few other songs Lucifer has taught her over the years (Eternal Flame, for one). Chloe is so lucky to have forever of just this.

Chapter Text

It’s Halloween, the one time of year that anyone can dress up as anything, anyone can be anything. The one time of year Trixie can get Maze and Lucifer to show their true faces to the world, Rory and Charlie to show their wings to the world, and Aunt Ella always matches with her.

This year, she’s not only the first president of Mars (because, literally, she is), she’s also a witch. Or— in Lucifer’s words:

“A demented witch on crack,” he says under his breath, exchanging a knowing glance with Mom.

Mom shakes her head but she’s smiling, so it’s definitely some kind of inside joke between them. Trixie doesn’t get it and, honestly, doesn’t want to. Ella’s also a witch, but she definitely went in the cute direction. Trixie’s goal is the same at 27 as it was at 7: scare people into giving her candy.

The chill breeze as she steps outside tells her the universe is on her side today. It’s the perfect weather. Ella takes her hand and they sprint to get candy. Well, use Rory and Charlie to get candy, more like.

With the Devil and a demon on her side, she’ll get enough to fill a house with it.