A/N: this is my first venture into the Lucifer fandom and it's a cathartic exploration of the reveal. It's just me working through how I felt about the reveal through explicit conversations about everyone's feelings. Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Netflix renew Lucifer for a fifth season.
He wasn't supposed to find out like this. He wasn't supposed to find out at all, and now he's caught her in a lie and she knows how bad this looks.
"Why would you send me back there, Detective? After everything, do you think that I deserved to be punished for who I am?"
They're in his penthouse and he's looming. He has this way of making himself seem larger when he's angry. She always thought it was because he seemed slightly crazed when he gets angry but now she understands that it's because his anger rolls off of him in Lucifer-sized waves, nearly doubling his size. He holds himself back, and when he's angry, she thinks this is what he truly feels like all of the time.
But she's not going to be cowed into regretting what she's done, because she's allowed to be afraid, to try and make sense of what it actually means for him to be the actual, literal Devil.
"Because you're the Devil, Lucifer! You torture souls and hurt people. It's not safe for you to be here! You do bad things and bad things happen to people around you and I can't let that be near my family," she shoots back at him, desperate for him to understand he can't just expect her to be okay with The Devil. That's not how this works.
He strides towards her, moving like the floor is on fire, like he's on fire from the inside out, his face so flushed with anger that he might as well be as he shouts, "Haven't you been listening, Detective? Humans torture themselves. Their own guilt picks out the weapon and I'm simply the one who has to wield it. My presence doesn't make people do bad things, humans have those dark, twisted desires already. It doesn't matter if I'm here or in Hell, you humans will rip each other apart for anything. But I get blamed for all of it even if I'm not holding the weapon." He enunciates each sentence carefully as if that will make her understand that this isn't his fault.
She deflates a little bit, this is not what she meant. "Lucifer, that's not what I meant," she tells him. Because even though it's not his fault, it's not hers either.
He scoffs and gestures for her to clarify, "No, then please, Detective, clarify what you meant. Is it that I'm a danger to humanity? To your family? Do you believe that I am dangerous?"
"No, Lucifer, I don't—"
She begins but he cuts her off, "Then, what is it Detective? Why do you think I belong back in Hell?"
She rubs her forehead, this is not what she wanted, this is not at all what she meant. Everything's spinning out of control and beyond what she's been trying to say and she doesn't know how to get the conversation back on track.
"I don't, Lucifer! That's what I've been trying to say! That even if you are the Devil, even if you did do those things, that you don't anymore and that you're trying to be better. That's what matters—not what you did in the past, but what you do now." She has to make him understand.
"But you still think I did those things? Hitler, Hiroshima, Ted Bundy? All of humanities worst nightmares happened at my beckoning?"
"I don't know what I believe, Lucifer."
"Why don't you just ask me?"
"And what will you say, Lucifer?"
"The truth, Chloe. Always the truth."
"I'm sorry, Lucifer! I was scared. What was I supposed to think, finding out that my partner, the man I let babysit my child, is the actual Devil?"
He leans away from her as if she's the dangerous one in room, as if she's the one who is like an unpinned grenade, and it guts her deeper than anything ever had. "Not this, Detective. I had expected you to run away, take Trixie and never return, and when you were gone for a month with no word, I almost believed it. But never this. I never expected you to betray me like this," he states, the last of the words barely making it out of his mouth.
"I didn't mean to, Lucifer. I'm sorry," she pleads, and she feels something wet roll down her cheek. Shit, she's crying now. That shocks her into herself and she's suddenly acutely aware of the knot in her throat, twisting her up and turning her inside out. She nearly can't breathe, the guilt is so strong.
He sighs, "Yes, well, we both know what you very well meant, now don't we?"
A/N: let me know what your thoughts are in the comments!
