Disclaimer: All of the characters appearing in Lucifer are copyrighted by Fox Television, Neil Gaiman and Vertigo Comics. No infringement of these copyrights intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder. I write this fanfiction only for fun and not for profit.
Does the Devil pray? It was a question, Detective, that you asked not long ago and I didn't have a chance to reply before Malcolm began shooting at us. You took a bullet for me and I sat beside your hospital bed while you fought for your life. In that moment, Chloe, The Devil, indeed, prayed... begged for you to come back to me. I felt the tears behind my eyelids threaten to scald my skin when your eyes fluttered open and you asked, "Did we get him?"
"Indeed, Detective," I gave you a dazzling smile. I escorted him personally back to Hell with an eternal torture specifically crafted with him in mind.
You recovered, but even now, I pray every night to hold you in my arms.
I pray for the time to come when you'll kiss me and see beyond my defiant facade to the fallen angel beneath who loves you, returning the feelings that I have for you. Being without you is torture worse than anything in Hell and being near you puts me through it. Still, I'd rather die loving you than live eternity without you. That would be true Hell, Chloe.
I pray for the time when you'll forget what I've been and what I long to be: the man holding you in my arms instead of the monster punishing the Guilty.
Other nights, I close my eyes as I fall asleep, thinking of you beside me, beneath me, hearing your quickened breaths and racing heart. Heaven is waking to you in my arms the next morning and making love to you again. Oh, Chloe, if only you knew for what the Devil prays.
Bloody Hell! Did you know that I envy Amenadiel, seeing how often he shags Maze until she's so sore she can't walk the next day? I deny it, but I envy them in a strange way. He can get away with giving Mazikeen a bloody good shag, but why do I come close to dying every time I come near you? It doesn't matter, if dying a mortal means that you love me, it's small price to pay.
I've prayed that you'll come to love me, Chloe, and choose me as my heart chose you, press your lips to mine in the neon light of evening and admit you feel as I do. I've prayed that you'll come to Lux after the club has closed and let me me show you all night with my body how much I love you. How many nights I've spoken your name as a prayer as I dreamt of making love to you atop the grand piano in the middle of the club while you scream my name. Then, while both of us bask in the afterglow, you tell me you love me.
Who listens when the Devil prays, Chloe? You can't admit to praying for this any more than I can, but even the Devil believes in miracles. I believe anything is possible because, Detective, you accept me as a man instead of a demon and that gives me hope.
Yes, Chloe, the Devil prays.