DAN
He's sitting at his desk. It will be hours and hours before they can interrogate the henchman they've brought in. Ella's gone to do something at the lab, and he… well, he's got nothing to do.
For the first time since Charlotte's death, he's got nothing to do. No case to occupy his mind. No task, no goal, no plan, no urgency of any kind. They say nature doesn't like emptiness… or whatever. And they're right. Emptiness is dangerous. Thoughts creep in. Bad thoughts.
Despite the two sleepless nights, he doesn't feel tired. On the contrary. He wants to go somewhere and do something. He needs to be busy. But the only thing he can do right now is paperwork. So he finishes it. It's not enough. The emptiness grows.
His thoughts drift to Charlotte. Her smile, her smell, the sound of her voice, her hair, the way her fingers move… he jumps between those memories – and the night when he was sitting on the ground, sobbing and yelling, holding her body, unwilling to believe she was dead. He winces. Right. Getting coffee is something he can do. And a reason to stop just sitting there.
So, Pierce is dead. Good. Good. But it's not enough. Pierce is dead, but so is Charlotte. Death is so easy. Too easy. And it was probably quick, too. Chloe must have simply shot him. Or was it Lucifer? Oh yeah. Lucifer.
He drinks his coffee in one large gulp. Lucifer knew. He had known for months, and he didn't say anything. Why? Why babble on and on about God and immortality - day after day! – and keep his mouth shut about the real and important stuff? It's not difficult. Not difficult at all. Just open your frigging mouth and say, "Yo, guys, our Lieutenant is a big ass crime boss"! What? No one would have believed him? Bullshit! Dan would've believed. Dan would've investigated Pierce, Dan would've stopped him, and Charlotte would be alive! If only the freak had opened his damn mouth!
He feels hatred. It's so intense he has to put the empty mug on the table in order not to throw it at the wall. He starts counting to ten, but gives up after "three". He tries to breathe. It's not enough. The walls are too close, and there are too many eyes around. He needs more space. More air.
The outside staircase is better, but its metal frame still feels like a cage. He tries to think about anything else – literally anything. It's a beautiful day out there, but he doesn't care. In fact, he cannot think of a single thing or a single person he gives a shit about right now. Even Chloe. Chloe who is now with Lucifer. With Lucifer, who knew everything and didn't say a damn word! Of course, she's already forgiven that slimeball, but he doesn't have to.
Yes, that's it. There's no joy in anything anymore; no grief, no sorrow and no regret either. There's only anger. Rage. Hatred and an overwhelming desire to destroy. He wishes he hadn't quit smoking. More coffee, then. Having a purpose feels good. He'll find Lucifer. He'll tell him. He'll show him. Yeah, the bastard will finally get what he deserves. Satisfied with the thought, he fills his mug to the brim and turns… oh shit, Ella!
"Ouch!"
He justs stands there and does nothing while Ella yelps and wastes napkin after napkin trying to get hot coffee off her shirt. It's no use anyway, so why bother? He hasn't even apologized. Maybe he should. Nah. Who cares. It's just coffee.
Strangely, Ella seems not to mind. At least, she doesn't say anything about the coffee or his overall attitude. Instead, she comes closer and whispers, "Hey. Diego Santana just called. They've brought Lucifer into their precinct".
Dan's face lightens up. Now he knows where to find him.