Disclaimer: Don't own these characters, don't claim to own.
AN: Was convinced by a number of people to write this when I mentioned that this is what should happen after the eventual reveal. So I wrote it. Maybe my writer's block is cured...
The whiskey left a bad taste in his mouth, though Lucifer reckoned it had nothing to do with the drink itself and everything to do with the thoughts whirling in his head and the emotions plaguing his heart.
He didn't know how long it had been. A few days? A week? He didn't care. If she didn't come back, nothing mattered anymore.
Lights reflected against the balcony windows from the cityscape outside. They were blurred and unfocused, but he paid them no mind. Instead he stared at his own reflection, half of it cast in shadow from the light inside the penthouse.
Of course he should have told her sooner. He'd had so many opportunities. So many chances. At first he didn't want to scare her with actual proof. Then he was too afraid that she would run and leave him. And finally, when he said he would and tried to show her, the face was gone. Replaced with feathered appendages he didn't want nor deserve, and it had occurred to him a couple of times to show her those, but he couldn't.
If he showed her his wings, it would make them too real. They were everything he wasn't. He was the Devil, not an Angel of the Lord. He would show her once they were gone and he had his face back.
It didn't surprise him that Dear Old Dad had other plans. It hurt to know that he'd pushed her to her breaking point, to the point where she was one hundred percent serious about ending their partnership, but why she'd gone after the perp alone and without any kind of backup he didn't know. She could've taken Maze, or Pierce (who was really Cain, but he didn't want to think about that revelation too much). Heck, even Detective Douche would've been preferable to her going alone.
At least he made it in time. Only in order to save her, he'd been forced to use his wings.
On the one hand, she's been more angry than frightened. Angry that he'd waited so long to tell her after everything they'd been through, angry that he hadn't trusted her with his own identity.
On the other, it would only be a matter of time before that anger turned to fear. She wouldn't want to see him again when the knowledge of what he was finally sunk in, and then their partnership would be well and truly over. But at least she had the truth and could make that choice while in possession of all the facts. It still hurt him that he'd been unintentionally manipulating her all this time, taking a friendship that she'd given to him when she had no idea who and what he truly was.
The reflection in the glass blurred, and Lucifer realized it was because of the tears in his eyes. His heart was ripping itself to shreds all over again, and he knew he had no one to blame but himself. It was over. She was gone.
But he didn't know.
He didn't know that, after Chloe left him standing alone, she'd gone back to her apartment and found Maze playing with Trixie, which banished any small thoughts she had about either of them being a danger to her and her family.
He didn't know that Maze had explained why they hadn't told her; explained that they'd both been afraid that she would be terrified of them. And that this admission killed all the anger Chloe felt towards the two of them, being replaced with sympathy.
He didn't know that Trixie already knew, had known before anyone, and was perfectly fine with it.
He didn't know that Linda was called in to help Chloe cope, and confirmed Maze's words as the truth.
He didn't know that the two of them together told Chloe that he died for her, twice, and that he killed his own brother for her, too.
He didn't see the shock and the awe and the tears in the Detective's eyes when she realized that he'd been protecting her from his world the whole time, and never once asked for any thanks or gratitude or anything else in return.
He didn't know any of this.
So, he didn't think for one second that it was her when the elevator doors opened and someone walked into the penthouse. The reflection in the window was blurry.
"I'm not in the mood, whoever it is," he called over his shoulder, suspecting the intruder to be a party-goer looking for a good time. He doubted he'd ever be in the mood for that ever again. "If it's you, brother, bugger off and pester me some other time. And if it's you, Maze, I'm sorry I told her. But she had the right to know, and it was about time I did."
There was no reply. Footsteps got closer before halting somewhere behind him, still a good distance away, and Lucifer kept his back turned. Whoever they were would take the hint and leave, at least he hoped so. He waited.
But what he heard next was the last thing he expected.
They began to play his piano.
And the familiar tune of "Heart and Soul" shocked him into stillness.
Heart and Soul, I fell in love with your Heart and Soul…
Only one person would know to play that for him.
He turned, ever so slowly. It had to be a dream. Had to be…
Chloe was standing by his piano, hand still on the keys. Her blonde hair was down and she was wearing the same top she wore that night, the night she came to him after Frank's death. Her eyes were sparkling with a happiness he hadn't seen in her since he left her for Vegas months before.
"Hi." And she smiled. At him.
His mouth opened, but all he could manage to say was, "Detective."
He took the first step towards her, and hoped that maybe things would be OK.