She didn't understand why it felt so much worse today. Chloe sat at her desk inside the precinct, a seemingly never ending pile of paperwork in front of her. She couldn't focus, filling in the arrest report she'd been writing incorrectly for the third time in a row. Frustrated, she tore the sheet in half and trashed it, continuing to try and ignore the empty space beside her that had been bothering her all day.

At one time there would have been a chair there. A chair that should have been filled by someone distracting her from the task at hand, whether it was with his consistently bad jokes (that for some reason she still managed to find funny) or just by his very presence, a perfect example of the male form that often had her thinking about things she'd rather not admit to during the glances she stole at him when she thought he wasn't looking.

More often than not the endless stream of noise he managed to create would end with her asking him to please stop 'helping' and just leave her to get on with it. With a grateful smile and a re-filled cup of coffee placed next to her he'd be gone, free from the obligations of boring administration.

Now she'd give anything to have him back. Now she craved the distraction.

The department was full of ghosts for her these days. Areas that she avoided like the plague, rooms she was forced to enter despite the memories contained within them. Interrogation, where suspects no longer confessed so easily, making her job that much harder. Archive, with no one there to reach files from the top shelf for her, never without a remark about how vertically challenged she was. The Lieutenant's office...

They'd lasted two years. The first had passed quickly, for even though things had changed between them after the wedding she'd still been caught up in that whirlwind of newly discovered love, more willing to let the things that bothered her slide.

Because for all her disappointment over Lucifer treating her feelings like they were some sort of competition to be won, it turned out that for her husband, it was no different. That ring on her finger had proclaimed him the victor and the challenge was over. There was no more need to put the work in. The romantic gestures, the emotional intimacy, all of it stopped. It was almost as if he'd been following some sort of guide on how to conquer her heart, a cheat sheet that failed to go any further than achieving his goal.

The second year was infinitely worse. The whirlwind had turned into a tornado, a swirling disaster filled with fighting, screaming and at the centre of it all, chilling silence. He was so utterly bored he'd told her. Bored of her, bored of Trixie, bored of their lives together. During that last argument, the final time they'd spoken, he said that she'd been right after all, she wasn't worth it.

It took three days for his body to be found. Cause of death was pronouced as cranial trauma, most likely from a large rock of some kind. They never did catch the person responsible. It was a homicide she was forbidden to work due to her being emotionally compromised, but to her surprise, she'd felt very little emotion at all. Just a sense of relief and a nagging feeling of regret that only continued to grow stronger as time passed by.

It had been three years now since she'd last seen him. The night before the wedding she'd gone to Lux, intent on convincing him to attend. He was her best friend, her partner, and he should be there on her big day. She was so caught up in the excitement of it all, so full of hope that flowed through her veins with every beat of her heart at the thought of the future that lay ahead of her. She didn't stop to think, didn't even consider the callousness of what she was about to do.

The elevator doors opened and for an instant she had been relieved not to find the furniture covered in white sheets again. She hadn't known what to expect having barely seen him in the past few weeks, ever since they'd announced the engagement. Oh he still came when she needed him, he always had, but whereas previously he'd been eager to stay in her orbit wherever possible, now he just extracted the information needed from her witness and left.

She tried so many times to get him to stay, came up with excuse after excuse, but he would just look at her with sadness before claiming he had an appointment with his therapist and disappearing like he'd never been there in the first place.

What had awaited her in the penthouse that day was so much worse than she could have imagined. She'd seen it destroyed before of course, the many bottles of expensive whisky smashed upon the floor, the furniture in pieces. She'd often thought it fortunate that the Lucifer was wealthy, for his clean-up crew must be on a monthly salary by now.

But today the emptiness of it all stole her breath away. The books that had once made up nearly an entire wall of the apartment, a wealth of knowledge that had hinted at the hidden depths of their owner were nowhere to be seen, leaving a gaping hole in what had made his home reflect who he was. Artifacts that had been displayed throughout were now carefully packed away, awaiting their final destination inside the many storage boxes stacked neatly in the corner.

And the piano... wasn't there. The piano that had been the heart and soul of this place was gone.

Lucifer however, wasn't. Not yet. After she had finished recovering the shock of seeing the penthouse in such a state she soon spotted him out on the balcony, catching the way he stiffened when he realised she was there. Somehow he had always seemed able to sense when she was near. Slowly she made her way towards him, stopping when she figured she was close enough to be heard.

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question.

He didn't even turn to look at her, his eyes remaining fixed on the city spread out before him as he leaned against the railing. "Yes." He took another long drag of the cigarette he was holding before continuing. "It's time. Time to go back."

"What, to hell?" She'd laughed at that, laughed at him finding yet another excuse to run away from her. There was no reply, only a frustrated sigh as he stubbed out the remains of his cigarette underfoot. "What about the club?"

That wasn't the question she wanted to ask. She wanted to know how he could do this to her again. How he could abandon her. She was his partner for goodness sake, he was supposed to be there for her! Why was he leaving?!

She often looked back and wondered at her selfishness in that moment. She wasn't a fool, she couldn't kid herself that she hadn't known why. Even if he'd never said the words.

"Sold." He chuckled bitterly with a shake of his head before finally facing her, the pain evident in his eyes. "They want to get rid of the piano from there too."

That's when she knew. He wasn't just leaving, he was never coming back.

The memory of how she'd reacted still filled her with shame. She'd screamed at him about how selfish he was, that he didn't care about how much he was hurting her, why he'd dropped out of her life without a thought as to how that might make her feel. All the things she'd done to him without realising. Projecting, Linda would have called it.

He said he loved her that night. Finally, after all that time. She'd told him it was too late. Too late to tell her what he should have done back when he still had a chance. She called him a coward. He'd taken too long to admit his feelings to himself, never mind to her. And now he was leaving. All he managed to do with his confession was to push her further away, towards making one of the biggest mistakes of her life.

"Fine. Go. I'm marrying Marcus tomorrow anyway. I don't need you in my life anymore Lucifer. Please, please just stay away from me. I'll be happier without you."

Those were the last words she ever said to him. The last thing she'd told him was a lie.

When she returned from her honeymoon it was Maze who was waiting for her. She'd dropped by the apartment to pick up the last of her things only to find her old roommate standing there, knives in hand, anger and hatred emanating from her in waves. She was making no sense, ranting about Lucifer going back home without her, how he was never supposed to leave her behind, that 'the plan' hadn't worked and it was all her fault. If it wasn't for Trixie having decided to tag along that day Chloe was sure she would still bear the scars of her barely restrained violence.

As she turned to leave Mazikeen had paused, smiling viciously back at her. "You won't see me again" she'd snarled. "You'll see him though. Whether you want to or not. You'll feel the guilt for what you've done eventually, you humans always do. "

She was right.

But not yet.

She did hear from him once, after the funeral. Her heart had skipped a beat when she eventually returned to work to see the envelope marked Chloe propped up on her desk, the elegant handwriting unmistakable. Not even trying to contain her excitement she'd torn the letter open, desperate for news of how he was, where he was, hoping beyond hope that he'd decided to return to her. But inside, a single sentence lay in wait.

Rest assured, he is receiving the punishment he deserves. L.

For the longest time after that she felt nothing. Living became nothing more than a monotony of daily tasks. Wake up. Get Trixie ready for school. Go to work. Come home. Help Trixie with her homework. Go to sleep. She knew she was failing. Failing her daughter, failing at her job, but most of all failing him. Because she'd come to realise that it wasn't her husband she missed.

Since he'd gone it was like the colour had slowly drained from her life. All she saw was grey everywhere she went. He had been life personified, reveling in every new experience, whether it be pleasure or pain or both combined. When she was with him she had shared in that in joy, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm.

Without him though, her world had stopped turning. She knew he wouldn't have wanted that for her. He only wished for her to be happy, he'd said as much during their final confrontation. But she was certain now that happiness was something she'd never know again. She didn't even remember what it felt like anymore. She'd forgotten without him there to remind her.

How she ended up standing on the shore that evening she didn't know. Her paperwork was filed, it was Dan's night with Trixie. She'd meant to drive home like it was any other day, but somehow her journey had ended up here instead.

To her, this was their beach, the spot where they'd almost started something wonderful all those years ago. She knew that in reality though, this place was his. He had told her once that it was here he'd first landed after deciding to abandon hell. Of course she didn't believe him, still didn't believe him even now, but as she looked out over the endless expanse of ocean that shone like silver in the moonlight, she supposed that if someone did want to begin a new life on earth, here wouldn't be the worst place to start.

How she wished he was with her now. It didn't seem right, being here alone yet always feeling like he was there, somewhere, watching over her. The rational side of her knew he wasn't though. She'd searched for so long. Even Lucifer Morningstar, master of the vanishing act couldn't have hidden himself that well from her.

When strange things began to happen on her most dangerous cases, the guys at the station started to joke that she had gotten herself a guardian angel. Suspects were found bound and gagged before she got there, guns aimed in her direction were gone before she'd even had a chance to draw hers. She'd pretended to laugh at the idea, but she was well aware it couldn't be true. For you only get one guardian angel, and hers was no longer around.

Tears filled her eyes and for the first time she let them fall. Months of loneliness and regret spilled out of her, mixing with the bitter sweet sea air. Her heart was broken and there was no fixing it. Her own stupid fault. She'd told him to stay away and of course he had, for he always did what she asked him to.

Closing her eyes, she tried pretending he was beside her as she started to talk to him, pouring her grief into pitch black sky overhead.

"Lucifer I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know how much I hurt you. I won't say I didn't mean it, because I don't want to lie to you like that. But if I could take it back I would. I was such a fool to let you go. I kept waiting for you to take the leap, when really it was me standing on the edge, refusing to admit how I felt, scared to death of falling. I'm not scared now. I know that you're not really here, that this is only in my mind, but I want to tell you anyway. I love you Lucifer. I love you."

She was talking to herself, not to him. Still, if this was the only way he could be with her, even for a little while, she'd take it. It was easy to imagine it was him who held her as she wrapped her arms around herself, that the heat at her back was from him pulling her closer. When the night was over he'd be gone but for now he was hers, and she was his.

It was all too much. She could have sworn that the hands that held hers were real, that the warm breath on the back of her neck was from someone standing there behind her. She opened her eyes, intent on ending the fantasy, only to gasp as she stared in awe at the sky above. The world around her had changed, the darkness of the night chased away by the stars which were shining brighter than she'd ever seen. There must have been thousands of them, completely filling her vision as they reflected in the water, surrounding her with starlight.

Captivated, she found herself unwilling to stop staring at the brilliance of it all. As time went on their radiance only seemed to grow stronger, until she eventually she was forced to direct her gaze to the sand below.

Which is when she felt the world itself fall away, as she looked down at the hands intertwined with hers. A breath, and her joyful tears started to fall once more when she heard him speak, the sound of his voice something she had convinced herself she would never hear again.

"Detective..."

She was lost, and he had found her.

And all I see is him and me, forever and forever.