Description of Self-Harm, self Mutilation, Drug use and alcohol abuse. Also Hurt, pain, blood, a little gory.
I didn't publish my last two stories here since they were a collab and I don't know if I will publish anything here after this story is posted. The layout of this site just sucks. But you can find me on AO3 as Navaros as well
He couldn't believe it. Maze, his trustworthy Maze, had betrayed him in the worst way he could imagine. Now he had lost everything dear to him. Of course the Detective deserved better than him, but the world's first murderer?
That was just so wrong, and it was his fault that this had happened in the first place.
He had pushed her away and now he had to watch how Pierce would use her.
Chloe had free will, yes, but this realization came to late.
It still hurt him to remember her face full of the emotional pain he had caused. Sure, Chloe had every right to be angry with him, but he couldn't bear it anymore.
Lucifer still sat in the dim lighting of his trashed penthouse after Maze had left and he had returned from his little banter with Cain.
He wasn't in a party mood, even if there were a lot of willing partners for the night down there. But no, not today, probably not for a long time.
The only thing he had done since he got back was lock the elevator.
Yes, ever since Jana had walked in on his moment with Chloe, he had a lock for whenever he wasn't in the mood for company. Only his closest friends knew the code and he certainly didn't want the Brittanys in here today.
First things first - Lucifer needed a drink. One? More like a bottle. It would do for starters. It became more than one - a second and third followed within minutes. Another one he took to his piano where he tried to play something, to get his mind off everything.
It didn't work, nothing did, not even the drugs he took to numb the pain, and he had really tried - most of his stash was gone by now.
Next was his balcony, where he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette, took another swing of his nearly empty bottle and stared angrily into the sky.
"Are you having fun, Father? Are you laughing your arse off now? Oh, I bet you are!" he screamed, knowing that he would never get an answer.
"What's the bloody point? Do you want me to suffer? To bring hell on earth for me? Oh, I'll show you what I think of your plan." He flicked his cigarette butt over the railing, emptied bottle number 5 and went inside to grab one of his own demonic knives.
Lucifer hated the pain. He had felt it for eons and still would if he still had his Devil face. Despite all odds he couldn't resist the urge to defy his father. He was right. What was the bloody point of keeping them? His insides hurt like he was dying and breathing became a problem. Damn, why did cutting his wings become so difficult? Was it panic?
No of course not, the Devil didn't do panic... or did he? Enough of this stupid overthinking, he had to do something.
He ripped apart his vest and shirt and now, bare chested, stared again at the sky.
"Whatever you tried to accomplish with THEM, I don't care!"
The wings he had tried to ignore as much as possible since he had talked to Linda after getting them back unfurled. Ignoring hadn't worked very well though. They itched from the lack of grooming and they had made an unwanted appearance more than once during the nights, but he could ignore them up till now. Not any longer though. Even the thought of having them was nauseating.
Lucifer grabbed the next bottle and took a big gulp. His wings trembled like they knew what was coming, and what was coming was definitely not pleasant. He grabbed the first appendage firmly, reached behind his back as much as possible, took a deep breath and made the first cut.
It was agonizing, blinding pain. He could feel the muscles, the tendons and the nerves he needed to hack, and the blood running down his back, soaking his trousers and spilling on the floor. Because whatever he did couldn't be called cutting; it was more a hack and slay.
The fallen angel couldn't hold back the hot tears running down his face anymore. All he could see in his painfogged mind was Chloe.
Lucifer went down on his knees after he opened the wing joint, since his legs buckled and couldn't support him anymore.
Chloe was all that was on his mind.
His Chloe.
The only human he had ever loved.
When first wing dropped down - twitching from the dying nerves - the Devil fell forward, face down into his own blood that was running into a puddle around him.
He shivered, his eyes stared into nothing and still, all he could see was her face, her smile.
His remaining wing and the bloody stump on his back twitched again when he thought of her.
Lucifer managed to forget the pain for a moment. When it came back full force he vomited, but he wasn't able to move away from it.
The Devil should have been used to it by now, but it got worse every time he cut them off. Alcohol and drugs also weren't helping his condition.
Just a few minutes, his fogged brain thought - then he would feel better and get rid of the other one.
All he needed was for the world to stop spinning around him while he tried to forget the disgusting filth he was lying in.
Chloe was still hurt beyond words, she just couldn't understand why Marcus had done this to her. She was devastated and confused, for it had all seemed so nice, so perfect.
Okay, Lucifer had been acting really weird even for his standards the last week, but she hadn't had time for his stupid delusions and problems.
If she was honest with herself, she was even thinking of getting rid of him as a partner. With the state the would-be devil was in lately, it was dangerous to her and her co-workers.
Why had he acted like that? Just some weird metaphors again, of course - he would never tell her the truth. And for that she should punch him, kick him in his balls or whatever, but deep inside she was worried about him.
At one point this evening she had calmed down enough to tuck Trixie into bed, and that was when she had learned Lucifer had been there earlier.
He hadn't said a word and just left. But why?
He acted so weird - was he jealous? He had no right to be, for he had been the one running off to Vegas and ruining their "thing" after all.
Lucifer acting out was nothing unusual, but it was getting worse. During the Axara case, he had tried to push her away again - hurting her deeply - and then he had gotten jealous when Marcus joined their investigation.
Chloe really needed a coffee, for she had to think and the smell alone always helped her clear her mind.
With her steaming mug in hand, she settled down on the couch and stared at her phone. Maybe he would call? Text? Invite her to a party? It had been a while since he had done this, but he normally did this when he felt lonely. Lucifer had told her every time that he wanted her to have a good time and let loose, but she knew better. The man was a terrible liar and his emotions were always right in those brown eyes.
He needed company - real company. Not flings, business partners or people wanting favors. No, he needed friends and family - okay, maybe not his real family.
In one moment he would open up to her, just to shut her out in the next one and she couldn't deal with his behaviour anymore.
Chloe was a grown up woman, she wasn't desperate and she wasn't a punching bag for an emotional, delusional man who wasn't getting anything out of the therapy with Linda. Seriously, what was his therapist doing? She was good at her job, so why hadn't she helped him yet?
No. Enough was enough. Chloe gulped down the coffee and decided to go to bed, for she was fretting over her partner for more than two hours now.
And why was her mind full of her partner, and not of the man who had dumped her?
Drinking coffee before going to bed wasn't the best idea, in retrospect. Normally she could sleep even on caffeine, but tonight the self-proclaimed Devil occupied her thoughts.
Somehow she had a really bad feeling about him. Another look at her phone - still no message. Was he under a pile of women? Busy? She didn't know, but the nagging feeling wouldn't go away. Chloe needed to see him and if she was with him, she could also press the answers out of him that he had promised to give her all those weeks ago.
After putting on some of her most charming clothes - meaning an old, washed out, oversized LAPD shirt and some sweatpants - and doing her hair into a messy bun, she called her emergency sitter to watch after Trixie. She really missed Maze, for it wouldn't have been a problem with her around, but Chloe could wait another 30 minutes if needed, then drive to LUX.
In front of the club she could see the long waiting line. She knew that by now - it was near midnight - the club was packed, and still people were waiting to get in. She was happy to have access to the private elevator in the parking lot. It was definitely a plus to know the owner and sometimes she couldn't help herself - she enjoyed the jealous looks of the others when she was let in without hesitation. Not today though, for only a few people had access to the elevator down here.
She found it suspicious that she needed to enter the code for the penthouse, but who knew? Maybe he was busy with enough people and wanted to be left alone? Pah, no way. And if she had to, she would punch and kick the others out by herself.
Chloe was prepared for everything, but not a dark and deadly silent penthouse. No white sheets - that was a good sign, at least….she thought.