Lux, finally.

Lucifer entered via the balcony. His apartment was empty, with the dust sheets over the furniture only emphasising the empty spot where the piano should have been. But that was a worry for another time.

The cool water of the shower cascading over his sun- and windburnt skin felt – dare he even think it – heavenly. He'd been aching for a shower ever since he'd woken up in the desert covered in dirt and with an extra set of appendages.

After a sinfully long shower he slipped into his comfortable silk robe and poured himself a drink. Something good and old. He had a lot to think about.

"Where the hell have you been? Again."

Something he wouldn't get to do right now, it appeared. Mazikeen must have had the silent alarm active. Lucifer sighed. "It's a long story, Maze."

Maze stepped further into the apartment, but remained in front of the elevator doors. She'd folded her arms and no weapons were in evidence, but she was certainly glaring daggers. "Then I suggest you summarize." She paused, tapping her foot to lend some urgency to the situation.

There wasn't a question of keeping this from Maze, of all people. There never would have been, regardless. Still, Lucifer would have preferred a little more time to think about this in comfort. "Very well." He turned so he was facing Maze. Conveniently, that put his back to where the piano used to be. He closed his eyes. Then he let his mask drop.

Mazikeen went still. "Oh."

Lucifer opened his eyes, slowly, to judge her further response. It meant he also caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrors behind the bar. No scarred face and raw flesh, not any more. All his masks were down, he wasn't attempting to hide anything. And this was how he looked?

"Someone hit me over the head, outside the hospital," Lucifer started his explanation. "When I woke up, I was alone – with these on my back."

Maze approached, walking past Lucifer to inspect the wings. "Okay, so that might have thrown you for a bit," she admitted. "But you shouldn't have stayed away this long!"

"It wasn't as easy as that, Maze. Whoever took me, they dumped me on the plains of Gehenna. I had to find my way back here." He turned around partially so he could face her again. "So yes, actually. Hell is where I've been."

Maze frowned. "It should have been easy to get out, right?" She gestured along one of his wings, being careful not to touch. "With these, I mean."

"Once I could get airborne, yes." Lucifer considered his drink. This stuff was too good to waste chugging. Oh well. He only drank half the glass, though. "But I had to get through the second circle on foot." He shuddered. That hadn't been pleasant. He'd tried to fly almost immediately, of course. As soon as his feet got off the ground, gales would batter him from every direction but the one he'd wanted to go in. He'd been dragged across grit and through thorny bushes more times than he cared to count.

Maze's expression said all it needed to, after that particular statement. No further explanation necessary.

He hid his wings away again, so he could let himself fall into one of the chairs, dust sheet and all. He took another sip of his drink. This time, he took the time to savour it. "Dad's sense of humor hasn't improved."

Maze poured herself a drink, then leaned against the bar. "What are you going to tell Chloe? It had better be good."

Chloe, oh yes. If their purpose had been to drive him and the detective apart, whoever had kidnapped him truly couldn't have chosen a better time. He'd been ready to show his true face, face her response to that, and possibly even explain.

And now he couldn't. Well, not show that face as his true one, at least. Whether it was intended as a cruel joke or a generous – if unasked-for – reward, he now looked like… himself. The visage of the Devil was still in his head, easy to call. But unmasked, the mirror had shown him Samael. And therefore he couldn't show his true face at all.

Accepting evidence of the Devil was comparatively easy. Deep down, most everybody already believed. Police officers, especially, saw plenty of evil in their daily work. To see, to know for sure that there was a force responsible for it (even if 'responsible for' in this case emphatically did not mean 'cause of') was just confirmation. Frightening, yes. Terrifying, even. But ultimately comprehensible.

Evidence of the true Divine was much riskier. People who were already true believers might manage to weather the reveal with their sanity intact. Unfortunately, the reaction of the auctioneer who'd gotten his hands on Lucifer's original wings was much more common. And that was if it didn't turn out like Chet's encounter with his Mother.

"You know what happened the last time a mortal caught sight of these wings, Maze. And they weren't even attached at the time."

Maze nodded. "Yeah, I do. I also heard the message you left. And I know something else, Lucifer.

"You don't go back on your word."

Maze had left a message on Chloe's phone. It was both to the point, and utterly useless.

He's back

What was she supposed to do with that? "He's back, and he wants to talk", would have been helpful. "He's back and he wants to grovel in apology for disappearing – again" would have been appropriate. Even "He's back, and he never wants to see you again" would at least have let Chloe know where she stood. Instead, a plain statement of fact with no indications for further action, whether from her or from Lucifer.

Fine. Lucifer could come to her, then, if he wanted to talk or apologise. If not, well, that was the third option, then.

Chloe's conviction lasted all of an hour. This disappearance was too different from the other times he'd broken off all contact for weeks on end. The message he'd left just before disappearing had sounded determined, absolute. Leaving that message and then deliberately disappearing would have been an act of cruelty unlike any she'd ever seen of him.

When he'd left before, it was always in silence after a confession, whether from him or from her. Not with a promise to confess.

So. She would go to him. Not come rushing as she heard the news of his return. She'd go by when she had the time – a friend visiting someone who had been away to share stories.

Now was a convenient time. Maze wasn't back yet, but Trixie was old enough and they lived in a safe neighbourhood now. Leaving her asleep alone in a locked house for a few hours should be fine. She called Linda, to be sure.

She walked through an empty Lux. No signs here that Lucifer had returned. Up in the apartment, however, there were signs of life. The lights behind the bar were on, and some of the dust sheets had been removed. There was also music playing on the balcony. Something classical and contemplative.

She found Lucifer there, too. He was staring up at the night's sky, cigarette in hand. He hadn't noticed her.

Chloe stood in the doorway for a long time. Lucifer didn't move until the cigarette had become a cylinder of ash threatening to burn his fingers. Then he dropped it and looked up.

"Detective," he acknowledged her presence, but then stayed silent for a long time. Finally: "I hadn't expected you to come."

"So I see." Chloe stepped out onto the balcony. "Lucifer, I'd like you to explain, please. You can't keep vanishing without a trace and then coming back as if nothing's changed. Where have you been, these past six weeks?"

He nodded. "Of course." He turned so he could look her in the eye. "I meant it, when I left that message."

"But not now?"

Lucifer grimaced. "Since then, Father has continued to complicate matters. The situation has changed, and I'm not sure what that means yet."

He was still keeping his distance. He was facing her, looking at her… but his hands were at his side and his body was tense. Something was bothering him.

Chloe took a step closer. Lucifer flinched. He'd have taken a step back, if he wasn't already with his back to the balcony railing. She held out her hand. "Lucifer, the longer you wait to explain, the more complicated it's going to become."

Lucifer's hand twitched as if he wanted to take her hand. Instead, he pulled it further away. He looked away. She was getting through.

Determined now, Chloe reached out further and took his hand. "Lucifer, you were ready to trust me back then. What's changed?" She squeezed his hand. "If you could even explain that, it would help."

Lucifer squeezed her hand in return. He still wasn't looking at her. "It's not you I don't trust, Detective," he said, so quietly she almost didn't hear him. So she moved closer.

"Then what is it?"

Now he looked at her again. She'd gotten so close she was looking straight up into his eyes. "Father. My siblings. What they might do to you if you got involved with them. And what knowing about them might do to you."

Chloe smiled. "Amenadiel isn't so bad." She paused to consider that. "Maybe a bit stalkerish sometimes."

That got the ghost of a smile. He let go of her hand and moved both of his hands up to frame her face. But he stopped before he touched her. "Amenadiel is not the one I'm worried about." He frowned. "At least I don't think so."

Chloe took the hands hovering at her sides and pressed both of them between hers. "Lucifer, the only way I'm going to understand any of this is if you explain. All these cryptic statements aren't helping."

Lucifer closed his eyes. A deep breath. Then a nod. "I'm afraid you may be correct, Detective." Another beat, then he straightened up. "But we'd better take this inside."

He led her inside and motioned to one of the uncovered chairs. "Please take a seat. It's probably better if you're seated for this." He headed over to the bar and grabbed a crystal carafe. "Drink?"

Chloe seated herself, but waved away the drink offer. "You're stalling."

"Yes, I am," Lucifer confirmed. He poured her a stiff drink anyway, and included an even stiffer one for himself. "Just because I want to tell you doesn't make it any easier to know where to start."

He put the drink at her elbow, then paced away again. Finally, he came to a halt in the middle of the room. "Okay. I'm going to have to show you something. Strictly speaking, it's a lie. But it should help tell the story."

"What..." Chloe started to ask another question, but Lucifer was determined now. Before she could finish her sentence, he changed. Where he'd stood facing her, there was now a…a creature… made of raw flesh and scorched skin. And wearing Lucifer's robe. From within dark eye sockets, twin fires burned blood red.

Her words froze on her lips. In the back of her head, lots of tiny dominoes, previously propped up by wafer-thin rationalisations, started to fall.

Click One stone down. The next was falling.

He hadn't expected her. He'd had no time to prepare so elaborate an illusion.

Click

So this was something he could do on command. As if it was a superpower.

Click. Click

Like the mysterious effect he had on – well, anyone but her, when he wanted to.

Click, click, click. I've been trying to tell you: I'm the Devil

She'd seen something, back then, in the mirror. Had it been this? It must have been.

Click click click. Clickclickclickclick and the other shoe dropped, mixed metaphor and all.

The Devil. She really had been making friends with the Devil. And more besides.

She scrabbled for the drink she knew was near at hand. She almost pushed it off the table before she got a firm grasp on it. Lucifer was by her side in two strides, regular face back in place. He kneeled next to her chair, trying not to loom over her. He stabilised the glass in her hand and guided her other hand around it, too. Then he backed off again, taking one of the other chairs.

Chloe squeezed the glass, not sure she actually wanted to take a sip. She forced herself to keep looking at Lucifer. Not like that was such a hardship, looking as he usually did. More so, because he was still only in his robe and it had been closed none too securely. But there was an undercurrent there now that left her heart beating a little faster. Adrenaline response. That's what it was.

Her subconscious was a lot less surprised than it should have been. Then again, it had been priming her for months in her fantasies. Deep down, there was even a slight pang of disappoint. No horns or a tail. That's what he'd said way back then. He hadn't lied. Hah.

Thinking back, that was the point where he'd started telling less of the truth. She'd made it clear, then, that she didn't believe him about being the Devil. Had even seen it proven to her own satisfaction and thought she'd proven it to him. She hadn't been ready to believe.

Lucifer had waited out her response so far. Now he cleared his throat. When he spoke, his tone wavered. "When I wasn't telling the whole truth, that was what I was hiding." He waited again. "Chloe, please talk to me."

She raised her glass to sniff at it, then lowered it again. No, she didn't want a drink. She needed her head clear to think about this; to slot all the little pieces that had suddenly acquired context into place.

Lucifer spoke again. "There is so much I could tell you – that I should tell you. But are you still sure you want to hear it?" He got up, approached her and dropped back to his knees, at her side. "It has to be your choice, every time. There is no unknowing this."

Chloe nodded slowly. She'd need a lot more time to process. There were bound to be a lot of questions, later. But this time, she was ready to believe. There was one thing he'd said tonight that had caught her attention. And if she didn't ask about that, now, she might never. He might never want to answer again, for all she knew. "I have one question, for now. I might have more later."

His smile lit up the room. Literally – or was she imagining that? Hard to say, right now. "Ask away."

"You said you were showing me a lie, earlier. So that's not what you are – not what you look like?"

"Ah." Lucifer's smile faded and he looked away. "That's the complicated part." He stood up and started pacing again. "If I hadn't been taken after that call, if I'd showed you that face then… it would have been true. But..." He swallowed that sentence and continued pacing in silence.

Finally he stopped and faced her again. "What I showed you has been the truth since the dawn of humanity." He threw up his arms in a grand gesture of helplessness. "Now, something has changed, and I don't know what it means."

He let his arms fall and looked away Looked up, in fact. Not at the ceiling, but at something a lot further away, invisible and distant. If Chloe hadn't heard him scoff at any mention of God or prayer, she would have thought he was pleading for answers from that direction.

He might be, at that. It was painfully obvious from their earlier cases. Lucifer might be dismissive about his father, but he still craved contact and wanted his approval. And with the Devil being a fallen angel – best put a capital F on that Father.

Right, religious considerations could wait. She had a friend who was struggling. And he was still her friend. A friend who had hurt her, yes. Several times. But also a friend who had helped and supported her countless times.

She'd asked him to open up. He was doing it, and it clearly wasn't easy on him, either.

Time for her to give the support she'd offered so many times.

Chloe pushed herself out of her chair so she could approach Lucifer. "Hey," she whispered, trying to get his attention but unwilling to break whatever communion he was in. When he looked at her again, she continued. "If you tell me, we can figure it out together."

His eyes locked on hers for an instant. There were tears in them, imperfectly suppressed. Then Lucifer closed his eyes and sighed. He took her hands. "I still don't deserve you, Detective." He came closer, let their foreheads touch. "I'm not brave enough to show you everything. I'm too afraid of what it might do to you."

Moment over, he let go of her hands and stepped back. "Perhaps this may serve as an illustration." He turned around and let the robe fall off his shoulders, exposing his back.

His completely unscarred back.

The scars on either side of his spine were gone. Instead, only smooth skin and clean lines of muscle were in evidence. Chloe reached out a hand and traced it along Lucifer's right shoulder blade. When she'd tried to do this before, he'd flinched away and stopped her. Now he twitched a little, but let her touch.

"I've been healed," he started to explain. He sounded a little bitter. "Those scars were of my own making. Mine. I didn't ask for this." His voice grew rougher, gained an edge of anger. He stood up straighter, his shoulder blades pulling together. "So once again, I'm being toyed with."

Chloe withdrew her hand. Lucifer took that as a cue to turn around again, anger draining from his expression. It was replaced by concern. "If they can toy with me, imagine what they can do to you, Detective. So far, you've enjoyed the protection of not believing in any of it." He took her hands again, and his words became a plea. "You still have a chance now. I could be lying to you. I could have spent the last six weeks getting those scars removed. If you want to believe that, you can. It would be safer for you."

Surgery to remove scars would have left its own signs. He was offering her an out – an out that would be a lie. He'd take that hit to his pride. But if she refused to accept that lie, she'd be acknowledging her own belief. There wouldn't be a way back from this.

There hadn't been a way back from this for a long time.

She freed her hands so she could but them on his cheeks. "I'll need time to process, Lucifer. But this has been real for a long time. It still is. Thank you, for trusting me."