I was recently introduced to Lucifer and I'm obsessed. It's just wonderful, isn't it? And I'm so relieved that I discovered it after Netflix picked it up for another season, whew! It's such a clever, fun show and I have a great time daydreaming about how Chloe and Lucifer might be as a couple. I'm fascinated by his humanity - especially his vulnerability - in her presence. What a great opportunity for a little hurt/comfort (my favorite)! This one-shot assumes an established relationship, presumably sometime during/after season 3. Obviously she is fully aware of his (not-so) secret identity, as it were. Not much plot, mostly just fluff, but it was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy! P.S. I did some internet research but have taken some artistic license toward the end...you'll see what I mean. Forgive me any inaccuracies. I'm obviously not an expert on anything medical, angel or devil-related and this is all just for fun, etc. -abby
Standing in the middle of the penthouse, Chloe tried hard to seem calm and nonthreatening. She hoped that maybe somehow her soothing vibe would transfer to the object of her attention, because Lucifer was clearly agitated. He had only grudgingly accepted the return of his wings, and sometimes was still oddly reserved about revealing them to her…particularly when he feared they might become her burden. Despite her constant reassurance and open adoration, he definitely didn't view them in the same light as the detective.
Light, Chloe snorted softly. For all his vanity and arrogant posturing, she doubted Lucifer even fully realized the ethereal beauty of the soft glow that emanated from his feathery appendages.
When they were healthy, that is. Not at the moment, and with that thought Chloe brought herself back to the present.
"Lucifer," she said softly. "Baby, please. Look at me."
The fallen angel's back was to her, wings safely tucked from view, but even without seeing his face Chloe could tell that the pain was vivid. His shoulders rounded a bit, as if he couldn't quite manage to stand upright, and his shirtless torso heaved shallowly. A faint sheen of sweat covered his skin.
"Lucifer," she repeated, slowly crossing the room. Her hands lifted waist-high and pressed outward in a placating gesture, as if approaching a skittish animal. Even though his back was turned Chloe knew he watched her reflection in the window, and she wanted to seem as relaxed as possible in the hopes that he would follow suit. Once within reach, she skimmed gentle fingers down his bicep, trailing along his tensed arm as she walked around to face her love. He trembled under her touch, and she knew it was from effort.
The sweet - if completely misguided and unnecessary - effort to protect his love from having to deal with the ugly damage to his celestial being.
"Hey. You don't need to do this alone. You know I can handle it," she chided lightly, squaring her hips directly in front of his body and grasping the sides of his head in both hands. She tilted his pale face down to look into her own, continuing to ignore his increasingly feeble resistance. "Let me see."
Finally, wearily, he made eye contact and she knew that she had won this round. With a stifled grunt of pain massive wings unfurled. The left hung awkwardly, bent at a unnatural angle that made the detective cringe in sympathy. It was torn and matted with blood. As she watched, broken, stained feathers dropped onto the pristine floors of the penthouse.
It was a gruesome display, and a painful reminder of Lucifer's success in deflecting the bullet that had been meant for Chloe.
Suddenly the wing drooped even further, followed by its mate and then Lucifer himself. Chloe grabbed her partner just as his knees buckled, straining under the weight. The devil was slim but all dense, lean muscle and he was deceptively heavy under normal circumstances. The added unwieldiness of open wings made him all but impossible for the detective to keep upright, but she managed. Unfortunately it wasn't the first time she'd had an armful of semi-conscious angel, and she half-led, half-dragged him to the couch where he was deposited in an unceremonious heap. It was only by the grace of God - "don't bring Dad into this," Lucifer would scold - that she didn't injure him further in the process.
"Shh, shh," she soothed automatically, stroking his hair and cupping his face in her hand as he whimpered softly. "I've got you." Lucifer quieted at her touch, and she took the opportunity to carefully arrange both angel and feathery limb so that she could reach the bullet. It wasn't easy - the wing was heavy and she struggled to manipulate it without causing her love further pain, but finally she had it draped across his body, the damaged leading edge within easy reach. The injury faced up, and she grimaced again at the mess of blood and breakage.
Satisfied that Lucifer had dozed and was well enough for the time being, she hurried into the bathroom to gather supplies. After a moment she returned, laden with towels, antiseptic, tweezers and a bowl of clean water, which she deposited next to the couch. As an afterthought, she rummaged in the kitchen and cut a clean dish towel into strips, adding that and a few pairs of chopsticks to her haul, hoping they could serve as a temporary splint. She grabbed a bottle of scotch on the way back, arranged everything within arm's reach and knelt next to her sleeping devil.
The sleep was not peaceful, she knew. Lucifer's brow furrowed and each shallow breath caught on the exhale, forcing a small whine of pain from deep within his throat.
Regretfully, she roused him with a tender kiss to the forehead. As much as Chloe would have preferred to try and let him sleep through her ministrations, she knew better. Lucifer didn't respond well to surprises, particularly painful ones. And so she kissed again, waiting until dark eyes opened and blearily focused on her.
A smile ghosted across his lips. "Hello, my love," he murmured, quiet voice rough with pain.
Chloe kissed him. "Hi." She smoothed his ruffled, curling hair with her fingertips, drinking in the adoration in his gaze as he tracked her every move. After a moment she remembered the situation and softly said, "I need to get that bullet out. You ready?"
Lucifer gratefully accepted the bottle of scotch that Chloe offered. She helped him sit upright to take a long pull, then slowly resettled him against the couch cushions. Eyes closed, he breathed deeply and nodded.
"I'm sorry," Chloe said sincerely as she reached for his wing. He bucked and hissed at the touch, despite her gentle care. "I know," she whispered, holding it carefully but firmly so she could see. It rippled and twitched in her hand, trying to fight the effects of the trauma and start the healing process. Her fingers splayed red-stained plumage as she inspected the bullet's path. It was large-caliber, designed to maximize both damage and pain. After ripping its way through his lower wing, tearing holes and taking many of the secondary feathers along with it, the projectile had completely shattered the wing's ulna before coming to rest in the large bone of the humerus. Bits of bone pierced delicate skin, and there was so much dried blood that it was hard to completely evaluate the extent of the damage. She'd never before dealt with a broken wing but it seemed the injury was severe, potentially catastrophic, and if Lucifer's healing capabilities were on par with a human's then he would undoubtedly be grounded for months.
Luckily, he healed much more quickly. Chloe's plan was to remove the bullet, set the bones as best she could, then leave for the night so that his natural - or more accurately, supernatural - healing properties could do the rest.
It took longer than she'd hoped. Tears streamed down both of their faces by the time she'd finally dug the bullet free, and Lucifer's entire body trembled from shock. "Shhh," she soothed. "Shhh. I know. I'm so sorry, baby." It took another twenty minutes for her attempt to set the destroyed bone, and each of Lucifer's stifled gasps broke her heart a little more. After tying off the last section of the splint, she soaked and wrung out a washcloth, bathing off the worst of the blood as gently as she possibly could before applying antiseptic.
Finally, she repositioned the wing across his prone form and wedged herself onto the couch, replacing the throw pillow under his head with her own body. "I'm sorry," she murmured, stroking his stubbled cheek, watching as glassy eyes drifted to half-mast and he exhaled the breath he'd clearly been holding in an attempt to keep from screaming. "I'm so sorry. Let's get you to the bedroom where you'll be more comfortable, then I'll go."
They'd done this before. Too many times he'd been injured during their partnership, usually while trying to protect her. He knew the routine, understood that she needed to leave so that he could heal, and yet this time something akin to fear flashed in the dark eyes. Suddenly he wrapped his arms awkwardly around Chloe from his position on her legs, gasping as the motion jostled his injury. He buried his face in her lap, frantically mumbling something that she couldn't make out.
"What?" Startled, Chloe strained to hear what he said. She leaned in close and after a moment she realized that it wasn't English. It wasn't even any language she recognized. It sounded ancient, otherworldly, and whatever Lucifer was saying, he kept repeating over and over. But it didn't matter what the words actually were - the message was clear.
Don't leave me.
Though she knew it would delay his recovery, his injuries weren't life-threatening and after a brief internal battle, Chloe made a decision. "Shhhh. I'll stay. I'll be right here," she promised. She smoothed the palm of her hand across his shoulders and through the short hair at the back of his neck.
Lucifer shifted slightly and turned his face upwards, dark eyes seeking contact with Chloe's blue ones. He spoke again, voice low, and as before it was completely unrecognizable to her human ears.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," the detective said, running her fingers gently through his disheveled brown hair. "I don't know what you're saying."
Lucifer's shuddering body had relaxed slightly under her touch, but her statement caused his brow to crinkle slightly in confusion. He tried something else, the words still foreign but different than before. Chloe smiled reassuringly, shushing him with a gentle finger across his lips, and he settled a little. "Hey. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."
She knew her devil spoke many languages - "all of them, actually," she could almost hear him correcting - and it wasn't surprising that he'd revert to a native tongue while his mind was so distracted by pain. Idly, still playing with his hair, she wondered how often he'd even had occasion to speak English before coming to Los Angeles.
She really had planned move him to the bed, but as Lucifer grew heavier in her lap she realized that it was too late. Soon he was snoring softly, the gentle sounds a testament to both his misery and exhaustion. The rare display of vulnerability made Chloe smile ruefully. She gazed down at her sleeping devil and picked up her phone to send a few texts and update the others on his condition.
Less than two hours later, Lucifer began to stir and Chloe set aside the magazine she'd been reading.
"Did you just get back?" Lucifer eyed the detective from his position in her lap, obviously confused, though Chloe supposed that his return to English was a good sign. "How long have I been out?"
"Not long. And I never left. You don't remember asking me to stay?" Of course, Chloe still didn't know exactly what he'd said but that was the gist, and she wondered if Lucifer recalled his slightly panicked outburst.
He cocked his head thoughtfully. "No. What did I say?"
Chloe smiled down at him. "I'm not actually sure." She slowly repeated the words as best she recalled them, certain that she botched the pronunciation.
Lucifer's return smile was wistful. "Enochian. The language of the angels. I don't have much occasion to speak it these days but - what's the phrase? Old habits die hard. It was the only language I needed for millennia, after all."
"It's beautiful," she replied. "What exactly does it mean?"
"I need you," he said softly and without hesitation. "Roughly translated, of course. Enochian is primarily comprised of phrases that are founded on celestial concepts. It is...difficult to translate into Earth's languages. Regardless, it is very much the truth." He reached up and caressed her cheek. His sincere smile matched the inhuman warmth of his hand and Chloe couldn't help but lean down and give him a kiss. She felt a familiar rush of love and awe at all the things she had yet to learn about her fallen archangel.
"I need you too," she replied with another kiss. "You feel like you can get up? You'd be more comfortable in your bed. It's getting late anyway."
Without a word, he rolled stiffly off the couch, pushing up on slightly wobbly legs. His right wing draped comfortably behind him, but the broken, splinted left poked awkwardly out to the side. Chloe immediately stood and grabbed his elbow, steadying the healing devil as he faltered. All color had drained from his already-pale face, and Chloe slipped her smaller frame under his right arm for support. "Come on, tough guy. Bedtime."
The pair shuffled through the large living room, taking the stairs into the bedroom very slowly. They had to turn sideways to accommodate getting his injured wing through the doorway, and Chloe knew for certain that Lucifer was still hurting when he didn't offer a single suggestive remark or lewd comment upon being lowered onto the bed. Once he was settled on his belly, she got his wings arranged as comfortably as possible, checking the splint as she did. The broken wing extended across the entire huge mattress, and Chloe gently propped it with pillows for support before helping Lucifer fold the healthy one against his body. She pulled the sheet up to his waist and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"I should go," Chloe massaged Lucifer's muscled shoulder blades, then groomed the small feathers between them with her fingertips. "You'll heal so much faster if I'm not here."
Though muffled by the pillow, Lucifer's groggy response was unmistakable. "No," he said firmly.
"You're hurting, baby," Chloe protested, continuing to stroke his back and after a moment, moving on to smooth the ruffled feathers of his uninjured wing.
"Don't bloody care," came the drowsy reply. He turned his head to face where she perched on the edge of the bed, opening the one eye that wasn't pressed into the pillow. "Please? Please stay."
Chloe sighed. "Of course," She dropped a gentle kiss on top of his head then stood. "I'm going to go shower though, okay? Then we'll see if there's room for me in there with you."
"There's room," he mumbled blearily, asleep before she'd taken two steps.
By the time she returned, freshly showered and dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of silky boxers, Lucifer had managed to rearrange himself in the bed so that she could join. He'd rolled from his belly to his left side, leaving his injured wing fully extended behind and making just enough room for Chloe between his body and the edge of the mattress.
She smiled and slipped under the sheet. Within moments, Lucifer's healthy right wing folded over her body, enveloping her in gloriously soft warmth.
Around 2am Chloe awakened to agitated whispering and a faceful of feathers. Lucifer was shaking beside her, right wing fluttering wildly as the left twitched weakly on the mattress. He was clearly caught in a nightmare and suddenly cried out, though she was not sure whether it was in response to the dream or the aggravation of his injury. Either way, she knew it had to stop before he hurt himself further.
But injured or not, Lucifer was far stronger than she and Chloe had never seen him like this. She had no idea what to do, unsure how to calm him without getting herself hurt in the process. Hesitating only over logistics, not intent, after a moment Chloe decided on the gentle approach.
"Lucifer," she turned her body toward his while trying to avoid the right wing. It beat loudly around her head, feathers flying, as the rest of his body jerked convulsively. She wound her own long legs around his, trying to still them as she placed her hands on either side of his face and her lips directly by his ear. "Lucifer," she repeated, even as he kept mumbling tearfully in what she now knew to be Enochian. "It's me. It's Chloe. Shhhh, it's okay. I'm here, my love. I'm here."
She kept up a soft litany of what she hoped to be soothing words, and the thrashing lessened by degrees. Finally, his wing ceased its furious flapping and as if exhausted, it draped limply across her body as his other limbs slowly relaxed. Despite never awakening, Lucifer was clearly listening, focused on her completely even in slumber. Silent tears ran down his cheeks and Chloe wiped them away with her thumbs. "I'm still here, and I love you," she said, putting all of the conviction into her voice that she could muster. "I love you so much."
He sighed, a little noise of raw emotion that broke Chloe's heart.
She understood, then, why he had insisted that she stay.
Several hours later, Chloe awakened again. This time early morning sun streamed through the windows and she rolled to look at the bedside clock - nearly 7:30. Once her brain kick-started she realized that Lucifer was gone and she rose immediately, padding into the bathroom. "Lucifer?" She spotted him hunched over the counter and gripping tightly to the edge, seemingly in a struggle to keep his balance. She rushed to his side. "Hey, you okay? What's going on?"
"I'm fine," he said tightly, tone disputing the words. "Came in here to take care of business and just got a bit...lightheaded, is all." He shivered abruptly, feathers rustling, and he winced at the pain the movement caused. "Bloody hell."
"Okay, back to bed." Chloe wrapped an arm around his lower back and was surprised that he didn't resist, but instead leaned into her support. Without a word he dutifully shuffled along and allowed her to guide him onto the bed.
She moved his good wing aside so that she could sit next to him and brushed an unruly lock of dark hair from his forehead. "It's time for me to go," she said firmly. "Just for a while. You'll feel so much better by the time I get back, I promise."
He nodded resignedly, and let the detective resettle him under the sheets. She looked deep into the brown eyes, making sure she had his attention. "I'm going to go to the station for a while, check in on Trixie and run a couple of other errands. I'll be back before dinner," she promised.
Lucifer reached up and traced the lines of her cheek. "I'll miss you."
Chloe planted a kiss on those gorgeous lips she adored so much. She breathed in as he passionately returned the gesture, and it was only with great reluctance that she finally pulled away. "I know," she grinned. He chuckled indulgently and closed his eyes, instantly dropping off into a much-needed healing sleep.
The detective quickly dressed and grabbed her keys, only sparing time for one more light kiss before leaving her sleeping devil alone.
When Chloe returned to the penthouse, she was not surprised to find that Lucifer was no longer in bed. He didn't require as much sleep as a human, even when healing, and she had been gone most of the day. She took a guess and found him on the balcony, basking in the warmth of L.A.'s late afternoon. Her lightbringer loved the Southern California sunshine and clad only in pajama pants, he stood at the railing looking over the city. His wings were partially extended to the sides of his body, draped in what Chloe had come to recognize as a resting position. The left hung stiffly due to the splint, but didn't seem to cause its owner any discomfort.
Despite the dried blood that she had yet to completely clean, the injured wing already looked significantly better. The holes torn through the delicate flight dermis had healed, and Chloe noticed that tiny feathers already poked their way out of the new pink skin. The sight conjured images of baby birds, still featherless, with only occasional downy patches sprouting through their nakedness. She wisely stifled a giggle, knowing how Lucifer felt about comparisons to non-angelic avian species.
The detective moved closer, inspecting the splinted break. All of the surface injuries had healed, and the swelling was down at all but the most badly damaged spots.
"Hello, my darling," came a familiar cultured accent, which was notably stronger than a few hours before. He sounded much more like himself and she smiled, joining her love at the railing.
"You seem better," she observed, kissing him on the cheek.
"Indeed," he replied warmly, wrapping an arm around the detective's slender shoulders and planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Thanks to you."
They stood there for a long time, watching as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon. The sky turned brilliant shades of orange and pink, and Chloe couldn't look away. After a moment, though, she felt like she was being watched and glanced up to find Lucifer staring at her.
"What's wrong?"
Lucifer grinned roguishly. "Nothing's wrong. Quite the contrary. I adore you, that's all."
She beamed and snuggled into his side. "And I adore you." After a moment her smile faded, replaced by pensiveness. She pulled away a little, looked up at him. "Before...you wanted me to stay..." Chloe just had to ask the question that had been plaguing her all day. Despite his former role as Lord of Hell, Lucifer's sleep usually seemed relatively peaceful - or at least, any unpleasant dreams were generally silent and unbeknownst to her. "How did you know there would be such terrible nightmares?"
There was a pause. "I am...sorry you had to see that."
"Don't be," Chloe reprimanded gently. "But somehow you knew, and that's why you didn't want me to leave," she pressed, reaching for his hand.
Lucifer didn't speak for a long moment. "The wings. When I...fell, they were shattered. It was torture...took bloody forever for them to heal. It doesn't happen often but when they're injured in this way, I..." He looked away and didn't continue, leaving Chloe to fill in the blanks. After a minute he returned her gaze, and for an instant she saw the pain of ancient memories, incomprehensible agony that he normally kept expertly buried behind eons of carefully constructed walls.
"Hey. If you're feeling up to it, they could use a good grooming." Squeezing his fingers she offered an out, aware that he was often uncomfortable discussing his fall from grace.
"Lovely," he smiled, allowing Chloe to lead him back into the bedroom. He relaxed on his belly in the center of the luxurious mattress, chin resting on folded arms and wings extended to the sides. He winced a little as the left twinged with an angry reminder that it was still healing.
In the meantime, Chloe busied herself with collecting a bowl of soapy water and some washcloths. Once Lucifer was settled, she set her supplies on the nightstand and straddled the small of his back. She started with the soft down between his shoulder blades, massaging the strong muscles beneath before moving her way across to the large flight feathers of his healthy wing. She smoothed the barbs and carefully aligned each one, gently plucking any feathers that were bent or loose. Lucifer hummed with pleasure as she worked and Chloe took her time, stopping occasionally to drop a kiss on his cheek.
Once done with the right, she moved onto the left. She tenderly stroked the new baby feathers, smoothing unruly tufts and enjoying their downy feel. Then reaching over to the nightstand, she dampened a washcloth, gently cleaning crusted blood from each individual feather. Careful to not disturb Lucifer's injury, she tugged matted areas apart with her fingers, smoothing down the shafts and thoroughly washing as she went. Damaged feathers came free with the careful treatment but she kept going, dropping those that dislodged to the floor.
By the time she was finished, Lucifer's entire being thrummed with something Chloe had yet to adequately describe in human terms. The closest comparison in her mind was a cat's purr. But whatever it was, she knew it to be a sign of trust, contentment and immense pleasure. And at the moment her fallen archangel was indeed very much like a gigantic satisfied cat, soaking in each and every stroke of his feathers. She couldn't love it - or him - more and, task complete, she rolled off his back and crawled under his right wing. He folded it around them both and despite the early hour she promptly fell asleep, blissfully comfortable against the vibrations of his warm body.
The next morning when Chloe awoke, it was to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes and smiled at the sight before her. Lucifer perched on the edge of the mattress, offering a mug of fresh brew. He was freshly showered and clad in a black silk robe, damp hair slicked back. His wings were nowhere to be seen.
She gratefully accepted the coffee and took a sip. "How'd you get the splint off?" She raised an eyebrow over the steaming mug.
He smiled slyly, pure cat-in-the-cream satisfaction. It was classic Lucifer, and Chloe snorted in amusement. "It took some doing," he replied, "but I managed."
"Feeling okay, I take it?" The detective looked him over with a practiced eye, searching for any sign of pain. The devil had few tells, but Chloe knew them all.
"Never better." He stood and stepped away from the furniture. Turning his back to Chloe, he dropped the robe and unfurled his wings. "See? Good as new." He extended both to their full span, flapping them once before glancing over his shoulder as he gave Chloe the chance to subject the left one to her critical inspection.
The feathers had all grown back and even regained their soft glow, she noticed, and he really did seem none the worse for wear. She set aside the coffee and stood.
"Thank you," she said.
Lucifer seemed surprised. "Whatever for?"
Chloe smiled. "For saving my life, you idiot," she teased gently.
Lucifer dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand. "My dear, I am quite certain that it is you who has saved mine."
Chloe smiled sadly. She was used to Lucifer's downplay of his importance in her life, but she never planned to stop trying to convince him of his worth. While running errands the day before, she had made a visit to Amenadiel for that very reason and was ready to put her efforts into practice.
"Olani hoath ol," she said with quiet confidence. She had been nervous about asking the favor, and was grateful for the elder angel's understanding - not to mention his willingness to teach a human a phrase in the language of celestial beings. Amenadiel had patiently worked with Chloe for almost an hour, and it was worth every moment to see the look on Lucifer's face as she spoke.
He stared in open surprise. "Olani hoath ol," he replied after a moment, dark eyes shining brightly. "Olani hoath ol...gohed iaiadix hoath." A lone tear trailed down his cheek, and Chloe reached up to brush it away. Lucifer cleared his throat and sniffed. "Thank you. It has been so long," he whispered. "So very many millennia since anyone has said those words to me."
Her heart broke with his loneliness, with the knowledge that it was something she could never truly fix, no matter how strongly she loved him in the present. "I'm sorry." She drew close, resting her head against his collarbone and listening to the slow, powerful thump of his heartbeat. The rhythm was familiar, yet like so much about Lucifer it differed just slightly from human. "You've deserved to hear it long before now. I do love you, Lucifer Morningstar. I've never meant anything so much in my life."
He held her close, wrapping both arms and wings around her slender frame. "Nor I."
Eventually her curiosity broke the comfortable silence. "What was the other thing you said?"
"Gohed iaiadix hoath," he repeated, rich tenor rumbling through his chest. She felt a little thrill of pleasure at his obvious joy in speaking his native tongue. Lucifer kissed the top of her head before continuing. "You are my life, Chloe Decker. It means," he said warmly, "that loving you is my honor everlasting."