Chloe crept through the darkened alleyway, gun in her hand, senses on high alert. Despite being as careful as she could, she flinched with every sound she made, whether it was the piece of glass crunching underfoot, or the scuff of her shoes on the ground beneath her feet.

She wasn't even meant to be here. Tonight was supposed to be nothing more than a routine stake-out, something she could easily handle on her own. Or at least that was what she'd insisted to Dan earlier, when he kept repeatedly asking her why she was going on her own, why Lucifer wouldn't be joining her. "He's busy," she'd said through gritted teeth. "Club to run, remember?"

"Last time I checked, Lux wasn't open during the day," Dan had replied, clearly having noticed Lucifer's absence around the station lately. As had most of the department. She was starting to have trouble finding excuses for why her partner wasn't around anymore; there were only so many reasons she could come up with after all. The new lieutenant had even started dropping hints about finding her someone new to work with.

She didn't want that. Or she wasn't sure she wanted that. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. Work had become a distraction, something to throw herself into so she didn't have to think about it. About him. At home she focused on Trixie, which these days mostly involved finding ways to avoid answering awkward questions about where Lucifer and Maze were. The latter especially, considering her daughter's best friend had only just come back into her life, only for Chloe to rip her out of it. Add in explaining to her about Marcus, and her little girl had been left shaken and confused.

The nights were worse though. She would lie there for hours, recounting every moment she'd spent with Lucifer, every comment, every action, every single thing that had turned out to be real. He had once promised her he would always tell her the truth, and that was exactly what he'd done. His truth anyway. The church, humanity in general, they all painted a very different story. But she knew him, or at least she thought she did.

And yet she'd still asked him to stay away.

It was killing him, she knew that. Ella hadn't been able to hide the fact she'd been visiting her favourite consultant, and once it became clear that Chloe knew about it, Lucifer's name suddenly started being dropped into every conversation they had. Subtlety wasn't exactly the forensic scientist's strong point.

But Ella didn't know what she was doing. Who exactly she was trying to convince Chloe to let back in. Chloe knew though, and she couldn't for the life of her find a way to explain why she was struggling with that so much. For how on earth do you tell someone that your partner, your best friend, is everything he ever said he was and more? The Devil. The actual Devil. She'd find herself on enforced medical leave and under the care of a psychologist before she could blink.

She still wasn't sure which one was harder to believe. That the red-faced creature she'd seen was the man she… cared about, or that he was an angel. Lucifer. Her Lucifer. An angel. The thought of it would see her clapping a hand over her mouth in the middle of the night, attempting to stop the rising hysteria from bubbling out of it. Her mother's maniacal laughter was not what her daughter needed to be hearing at 3 am in the morning. She didn't even want to start thinking about just how old he was.

Yet during those sleepless nights, she did. She couldn't help it.

And so that left her here, desperately trying to prove that she could do this on her own, that she'd been right to ask him to stay away. But as she rounded another corner, she found herself wishing he was by her side. She was alone, in the dark, with backup far too far away. The words "Be quiet, Lucifer!" still rested on the tip of her tongue, even though he wasn't here whispering inappropriate comments in her ear about being dragged into an alleyway. Wasn't here for her to jam an elbow into as he stood too close for comfort, something she had initially thought to be yet another attempt to seduce her, but now knew to be more about protecting her than anything else.

There were muffled voices up ahead. She froze, then ducked down behind the nearest dumpster. This was why she hadn't dared wait in the car. It might be her only chance to crack this case and, well if she was honest with herself, she'd been taking more risks lately. A completely foolish thing to do, she knew; after all, she had a child waiting for her back at home. But there was that unrelenting voice in the back of her head that wondered if she actually was that good of a detective after all, or if her results these past few years had solely been due to supernatural assistance.

Finding out who Lucifer was had made her doubt herself, and she hated it.

As the voices moved further away she inched out from her hiding place, following the sound deeper into the darkness. The alleyway intersected with another, and she cautiously moved past it, pausing briefly to check there was going to be no one going to be joining them. From here she could just about see the road, a street lamp flickering at the end of it. It was the only source of light she could see; not even the stars were here to help her tonight.

For a moment, she debated if she should turn back. So far she'd learned nothing, hadn't even been able to get close enough to overhear a conversation, yet alone gather enough evidence to arrest anyone. Backup must be close by now, and the sirens would surely send her perps running as soon as they arrived. If Lucifer were here he would probably be pushing forward though, and so that's what she chose to do.

She could do this without him. She could.

A noise from behind saw her throwing herself flat against the wall, gun raised as she stared back towards the barely illuminated intersection. Her heart was beating so fast she would have sworn if anyone had been in the alley with her, they would have heard it. Seconds later, the shrill yowl of a cat shrieked into the night air as it skittered off in the opposite direction. She breathed a sigh of relief. Normally she would have thanked God, out of habit more than belief, but lately she'd been trying to stop doing that. She wasn't altogether sure God was worthy of her thanks these days. Glancing up towards the sky for a moment, she shook her head slightly and turned back.

Too late, she noticed the figure step out from the doorway set back in the brickwork up ahead.

Too late, she saw the glint of the gun as he raised it, not pointed at the vest she wore over her chest, but at her head.

Too late, she heard the sound of a bullet firing as he pulled the trigger.

Too late. It was all too late.

The force of the blow knocked her flat on her back, the breath thrown from her body as she landed heavily on the concrete. She lay there, dazed, waiting for the pain. Only it didn't come. Had she gone into shock already? No, despite the world spinning around her, she felt like she was thinking clearly enough. Slowly she rolled onto her side, a gasp escaping her as she moved. Footsteps hesitantly moved towards her, and she braced herself for the next shot.

Then there were more footsteps, running this time, skidding to a halt as they reached their companion.

"What the… what is that?" said one of them, his words laced with fear.

"I have no idea, man, it came out of nowhere!"

That must be the man that had shot at her. Not daring to move, she concentrated on trying to remember their voices. If by some miracle she got out of here, she might need to identify them later on.

"What should do with it?" asked the first guy. "I mean, we can't…"

"Kill it," ordered another new party to the conversation. "Kill the cop too."

No sooner had he finished speaking than two things happened in quick succession. First, a sound reverberated down the alleyway from behind her, a deep growl that sent a sliver of ice down her spine. And second, she finally noticed the feather beside her, glowing softly in the inky blackness.

"Jesus Christ…" one of the men whispered, "His eyes…"

The growling grew louder, and the next thing she heard was the sound of someone running away as fast as their feet could carry them. Or as luck would have it, more than one person. Her good fortune wasn't complete though, and as she raised her head she could still see someone standing in front of her.

Then of course, came a voice she knew all too well.

"That particular son of God isn't here, I'm afraid. And unfortunately for you, I'm not nearly as forgiving."

She felt the resulting scream in her bones, and the gun that had aimed at her clattered to the floor. That was good. Fingerprints were good. That was what she told herself as she tried not to think of what the currently fleeing man had just seen. Even though she already knew. Even though she could already see it in her mind herself.

"Detective?"

He spoke quietly, sounding somewhat unsure of himself. The threatening tone which had dominated his words before had vanished completely, as if it had never even been there in the first place. Pushing herself up from the floor, she steeled herself for what she might or might not see when she looked at him. Curiously, she found her surroundings much brighter than they had been before. There was no obvious light source to be seen, but as her own shadow loomed in front of her, she realised it was coming from behind.

And when she turned, what she saw took her breath away.

Wings.

Wings that filled the space in front of her, curved against each wall. And in the middle of it all, curled on his side, was Lucifer, his jet black suit contrasting against the white surrounding him. The wings she'd seen in the warehouse that day, they paled in comparison to the real thing. These were almost indescribable in their beauty. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of them. She knew he was an angel. She knew that he'd flown her away to safety that day, the day when everything had changed. And yet, the reality of it was something else entirely.

"When you've quite finished staring…"

It wasn't the annoyance in his voice that broke her out of it, but the strain. He rolled onto his back with a groan, trapping his wings underneath him. "Help me up, would you?" He was breathing heavily now, his words laboured. She crouched down beside his head, not wanting to step on his wings. Gingerly she reached out to touch one, unable to resist the call of having feathers next to her skin. "The shoulders, if you don't mind," he said, clearly irritated by her fascination.

With a sigh, she moved her hands underneath his shoulders, briefly closing her eyes so as not to get distracted as she attempted to lift him from the ground. He was incredibly heavy, far more than she would have expected, even for a man of his size. She concluded that it must be his wings, noting with interest that the phrase "feather light" obviously didn't apply here.

As soon as she managed to get him even slightly off the ground though, he groaned again, louder this time, and her eyes flew open. She still couldn't take her eyes off his wings, studying them intently as she examined his feathers for injuries. They couldn't be damaged, it wouldn't be right, he shouldn't be treating them this way, not for her…

"Oh this is bloody useless," he muttered under his breath, before gritting his teeth and forcing himself upwards. His wings vanished, and he crashed back down again, crying out agony as his back hit the floor. Only then did she notice just how much pain he was in. Only then did she noticed the rapidly spreading bloody stain on his stomach where his suit had fallen away.

Now fully aware, she ripped off her jacket, moving to his side where she could press it against his wound. It was hard to tell with so little light, but if she had to guess, he'd taken a bullet to the back as he knocked her to the ground. "Jesus, Lucifer, why didn't you tell me you got shot?!"

The look he gave her was withering. "Weren't exactly listening, were you?" He grimaced as she pressed harder. "Typical, he makes you immune to all the good parts of me but not to the worst."

She listened to him babble, hoping that blood loss wasn't starting to affect him already. If it was, his situation was going to get a lot worse, very quickly. "Second time my brother's been mentioned tonight," he continued, slurring his words ever so slightly. "Think if you say his name a third time he'll appear and save me?" He laughed, and it turned into a cough. When he pulled his hand away from his mouth, she was certain she saw blood there.

Save him. That's what she had to do, save him. Making sure that she kept pressure on the wound with one hand, the other reached into her pocket for her phone. As soon as the screen lit up though, he grabbed her arm. "No." She looked at him, startled that he would want to prevent her from getting help. He let his arm fall back to the floor. "Not human, remember?"

"What the hell do you want me to do then?" she said desperately. Every instinct she had told her to call an ambulance, to call somebody, anybody. She was watching him bleed out on the floor after putting her safety above his own again and she had never felt more useless.

"Hell…" he said, sounding weaker now. "S'pose I'll be going there soon." His eyes began to drift closed.

"No, you're not." She put her phone down and held onto his hand tightly. He opened his eyes again and looked at her in surprise. "I can't lose you." As soon as she said the words, she knew they were true. She'd spent so long wondering if she could still have him in her life that she hadn't even considered what it would be like without him in it.

He smiled at her kindly, raising his hand to her face. "Thought… that's what… you would have… wanted." The strength went out of his arm, until the only thing holding it up was her own hand. She lowered it back down and placed her head to his chest, listening to his heart beat. It was slower than she'd like, but still steady. "Tired," he mumbled.

"No, no, you can't go to sleep, do you hear me?" She pushed down on his shoulder, but he didn't give much of a response. The jacket she still held against him was sodden. "You need to tell me what to do. Please!" She watched as his face grew slack, and she knew this time that as his eyes closed and he sank into unconsciousness, he wouldn't be waking up.

One word escaped his lips before he left her.

"Run."

She didn't know what he meant. There was no one left here to harm her, not unless he had some way of sensing trouble that she didn't. Panic start to over take her as she looked at him lying there motionless. He was still breathing, but it was shallow. She was losing him.

Her phone screen lit up as a message came through, and a photo of Maze and Trixie playing together jumped out at her from the shadows. She'd never changed it, never thought to what with everything that had been going on lately. Maze. The one person, demon, who could possibly help. She grabbed the phone and dialed, praying to a God that she now knew was real that she would pick up.

The call nearly rang out before a short, sharp answer came through on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Lucifer's hurt."

"So? He'll be fine, he always is."

"He's dying, Maze."

There was a pause.

"You're with him now?"

"Yes, but I can't call an ambulance, and I don't know what I can do to help him."

"Run."

Chloe was left speechless as Maze echoed Lucifer's words back to her.

"Decker. You need to run. As fast and as far as you can. Now."

"I don't under-"

"GO. He only bleeds around you. He can't heal around you."

It took her less than a few seconds. Maze was in the middle of shouting "GO NOW!" down the phone at her when she dropped it.

She started running.

She tried to keep her mind blank as she raced back the way she came, heading for the first light source she could see, skilfully dodging anything that might trip her up and slow her progress. Rounding the corner, she hit the street, hurtling her body in the direction that would take her furthest away from Lucifer.

Thump, thump, thump.

The sound of her feet hitting the sidewalk was all that was important. Cars streamed past her, their lights blinding, and the image of Lucifer dying on the ground flashed into her mind. She pushed even harder, the muscles in her legs starting to scream in protest.

The closer she got to the brighter lights up ahead, the more people started to appear in front of her. She yanked the badge from her belt, never slowing down for an instant as she brandished it to anyone that could see, screaming at those in her path to get out of the way. She didn't know if she was running fast enough, but she couldn't risk stopping to jump into a cab. All she could do was keep running, no matter how far she had to go. If she needed to, she would run until her legs gave out.

For him. He who had sacrificed so damn much for her. Who had risked his life again to save her. Who, for some ridiculous reason she couldn't hope to understand, had chosen to stay by her side, by the side of someone who made him vulnerable. That maddeningly dorky, frustratingly adorable, completely loveable idiot.

Rather than wait for the lights up ahead to change she rounded the corner instead, immediately barrelling into someone who may as well have been a brick wall for all they moved following the impact. The obstacle in her path caught her by the arms in an attempt to steady her. She tried to wrestle free with no avail, her breath coming in loud, heavy pants. "Let me go, I have to go!" She went to push at him, and stopped as her hand came into contact with the bloody shirt in front of her.

Lucifer let go of her arms and raised his hands to her face, brushing away the hair from her eyes. "Detective," he said softly, bringing her face up to meet his. "You're okay." He sounded so relieved, and if she hadn't been struggling so hard to breath she would have pointed out that surely it should have been her saying that to him.

After making sure she was alright to stand by herself, he took a step backwards, attempting to give her some space.

"You look knackered though!" he said, grinning smugly as the mask he always hid behind slid into place. "Out for a run at this time of the evening, really? Surely there are more interesting things you could be doing." Smirking, he waggled his eyebrows at her.

She'd saved his life; of course he was being an asshole. Right now though, she couldn't bring herself to care. She lifted his shirt, inspecting the flawless skin underneath. "Really, Detective, you don't talk to me for weeks and now we're straight on to foreplay?" he joked, but she could hear the insecurity that lay behind his words.

Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away, before flinging herself into his arms. "I thought I'd lost you."

For a moment, he did nothing. Then slowly, hesitantly, she felt him wrap his arms around her in return, gently resting his head on hers.

"I thought I'd lost you too," he whispered.

She shook her head. "No. Never."

The world went quiet around them as she held him tighter.

He was okay. They were okay. Or they would be, she knew that now.

The detective and her Devil. The Devil and his detective.

As long as they were together, nothing else mattered.

Not to her.