Chapter 2

Chloe had stopped at a pharmacy on their way to Lucifer's penthouse. The self-proclaimed devil napping soundly on the passenger seat all the while. She was slightly worried about him. His forehead had felt really hot to the touch (and yes, she had checked again as he fell asleep in her car).

Parking her car behind Lux, she gently shook his shoulder.

"Lucifer." He steered lightly at her voice and squinted sluggishly. His bloodshot eyes took some time until they focused on her face. Another clear sign that he was feeling less than stellar. "Come on, time for bed."

"I do hope you're offering to join me, Detective," he replied. Chloe just rolled her eyes at him and got out of the car. She pushed him to the elevator and got him up to the penthouse, where he made a beeline for the liquor cabinet.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked incredulously taking the bottle out of his hand setting it back down before firmly steering him in the direction of his bedroom. "Go and put on your pyjamas."

Obviously at a loss for words he obeyed and vanished into the bedroom. Making a mental note to cherish this very special moment, where Lucifer Morningstar had been speechless, Chloe went around the apartment in search for a blanket and pillow to put on the couch in case Lucifer wanted to watch TV. Not finding the necessary items, she gave up and started unpacking bottles of medicine and a thermometer. She would just get the blanket and pillow from his bedroom once Lucifer had changed.

"Are you okay in there?" she asked because really it shouldn't take him this long to change.

"Of course I am," he replied with a raspy voice. "You're quite welcome to come in and convince yourself." Chloe rolled her eyes while checking the batteries in the thermometer. Knowing Lucifer, he probably didn't own one. Someone who kept insisting that he was invincible had no use for a thermometer. Just as she was starting to be concerned about his prolonged absence, he emerged from the bedroom shirtless and bare-footed.

"Are you trying to catch your death?" she asked exasperated.

"You said to put on pyjamas!" he replied. "I'll let you know that this is 100 percent more clothing than I usually wear to sleep." Again rolling her eyes at his wriggling eyebrows and indecent gesture towards his groin, she pushed past him into the spacious bedroom.

"Detective, you could have just said the word." Chloe started rummaging through a sideboard. "What are you doing? – The toys are in the nightstand." Finding what she'd been looking for, Chloe pushed a pair of socks and a plain black but perfectly ironed t-shirt into Lucifer's arms.

"Put this on," she ordered and gathered the blanket and a pillow from his bed. She was arranging them on the sofa when he followed. She could tell with one look that he was out of his comfort zone and clearly had no idea what she was doing. Or why. Standing in the middle of his living room wearing pyjamas he looked lost – and years younger. Chloe could see the thin coat of sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Come on," she said gesturing towards the sofa. "Sit down." He approached carefully and sat down, all the while eyeing her curiously.

He made no move to get under the blanket although she could tell by the very small shivers that ran through his shoulders that he must be cold. She grabbed the blanket and tucked it around him ignoring his startled expression.

Turning around she gave him a moment to adjust while she got the thermometer from where she had put it on the bar. With her back to him, she tried to quell the burning anger she felt for his parents, who'd, basing on Lucifer's strange behaviour to someone caring for him, obviously never bothered to tend to their son when he needed it. She didn't even dare to imagine how deep the emotional wounds were that his traumatising childhood had left. She still shuddered whenever she thought of the beastly scars on his back. And those were just the visible signs. No-one could tell how deep the psychological scars went.

Grabbing the thermometer she returned to his side. He took the offered item holding it in his hand and studying it closely. Then he looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What now?" he finally asked fiddling with the small object. Chloe squinted at him trying to determine whether he was pulling her leg or really didn't know how to use a simple thermometer. He looked genuinely unsure. No smirk on his face, so she relented.

"It's a thermometer," she said slowly. "You put it in your mouth. It'll measure how high a fever you have." He nodded understanding and did as he was told. "Put it under your tongue."

"How long does this procedure take?" Lucifer asked.

"Shush," Chloe replied. "You're not supposed to talk right now. It'll be over in a minute." When the thermometer beeped, she took it from his mouth wiping it down.

"That's not good," she mumbled putting her hand on Lucifer's forehead again. He was burning up.

"What does it say?" he asked leaning over to read as well. "102.2? What does that imply?"

"That your fever is really high," Chloe replied standing up. She quickly navigated her way through the kitchen, grabbing a spoon and putting water in the electric kettle for tea. She also got a bottle of water for Lucifer. Returning she grabbed the medicine from the bar and sat next to him on the sofa.

She could feel his eyes on her as she studied the instructions and then carefully poured the gooey liquid on the spoon.

"What on earth is that?" he asked bewildered.

"It's medicine to bring your fever down," she explained bringing the spoon to his mouth. "Take it," she added as he made no move to swallow the liquid.

"It smells positively awful," he complained. "I have no desire to find out how it tastes." Chloe sighed as he leaned back and actually crossed his arms, conjuring the image of a sulky child.

"Are you pouting?" she asked incredulously. He scoffed at her.

"I most certainly am not!" he exclaimed. "I am ..." He didn't get to finish the sentence as Chloe had quickly and efficiently pushed the spoon in his open mouth. Jabbing a finger at his face, she warned, "Don't you dare spit it out!"

Spluttering and coughing he made quite a spectacle out of having to swallow a little medicine. Reminding Chloe of Trixie whenever she got sick.

"It's disgusting!" he whined loudly. "You would have made a great torturer in hell!" Rolling her eyes – again – (she was probably risking permanent eye damage, if she kept this up) she stood up, prudently taking the bottle of medicine with her lest he tried to get rid of it.

"Get used to the taste," she said without sympathy. "You'll need to take that every five hours until your fever is down."

"I most definitely will not!" he said and without turning around Chloe was very sure that he was sulking about the horrible unfairness of it all.

"What flavour tea do you like?" she queried to change the subject.

"Jagertee."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lucifer. The only alcohol you're going to get is the one in your medicine."

"How come it's all right if it's prescribed? That hardly seems fair!" he called after her before erupting in a hacking coughing fit.

"Well pour you," Chloe said once she had returned with a cup of tea that she put on the table to cool down before handing Lucifer the bottled water to quell the irritation in his throat. He took a few gulps before leaning back on the couch, looking utterly exhausted, eyes closed and breathing heavily through his mouth. The coughing had drained his last bit of energy from his body. Chloe put her hand on his forehead again and was surprised when Lucifer practically purred.

"Your hand feels nice. It's cold," he mumbled and she let her hand rest a bit longer until his body heat had cancelled out the cooler temperature. Who would have thought that he'd relish her soothing touch this much?

"Lie down," she murmured running her fingers soothingly through his hair and he melted in the touch. "I'll get you a cool washcloth for your head."

Upon returning she saw that Lucifer had lain down curling on his side. That he was so compliant and silent scared her more than she would like to admit. The fever must be getting to him worse than she initially thought. She sat down by his hip careful not to jostle him and patted his cheek with the damp washcloth before putting it on his forehead and temple. He sighed, again relishing in the gentle treatment.

"Why do I hurt all over?" he asked in a small voice looking at her from beneath long lashes. The mother in her immediately jumped to comfort him. He looked so lost and hurt buried beneath his black silk blanket that he'd drawn up to his chin. She put her hand back in his hair and gently carded through the thick strands. Chloe would never have thought that one day she'd be sitting next to a sick Lucifer comforting him as if it was Trixie lying there. But his hurt expression and helplessness just called to the heart of a mother within her. And right now he didn't look and behave at all like the suave bar owner that she had first despised but like a little boy in need of some comfort that he had been denied while growing up.

"You caught the flu," she murmured. "It'll be better in a few days. You need to sleep. I'll stay with you."

"But you have work ... and the spawn ... responsibilities. – I don't want to be a burden," he added almost inaudibly, his eyelids drooping already as a result of his battered body demanding sleep combined with the gentle administrations to his scalp.

"Shush now," Chloe muttered. "You are not a burden. I am your friend and you need my help. That's what friends do for each other." She stayed next to him gently stroking through his hair until his laboured breathing had turned to soft snores.

Chloe tucked the blanket tightly around his still form and turned the washcloth to let the other still cool side rest on his forehead. Then she busied herself in the kitchen, quickly preparing a soup out of the ingredients she found in Lucifer's fridge. Not at all astonished at how much fruit and vegetables filled his kitchen since she had actually never seen him eat in her presence.

When the soup was finally simmering on the stove, she went back to check on Lucifer. He had turned in his sleep, the washcloth now rested next to him on the couch. She picked it up and checked his forehead again to gauge his temperature. He was still very hot to the touch which worried her immediately. The medicine should be having an effect on him by now. She wetted the washcloth again and put it back on his forehead, preparing herself for a worry-lined and tiring afternoon and night. She had spent nights at Trixie's bedside when she'd had a fever this high and they had been long and nightmare-ridden nights. She didn't expect the coming night to be any different and was definitely sure, that she would not leave Lucifer to fend for himself. That would be just cruel.

Taking the cooled cup of tea that Lucifer wouldn't be drinking, she settled back against the sofa next to the curled up form of her civilian consultant and switched on the TV.