A/N: Okay guys... the second to last chapter! I decided to split it up since I had about two weeks of not being able to work on it at all. Didn't want to leave you guys hanging too long. Everything is wrapping up, or getting close to it! Thanks for sticking with me in this long journey. I've had a great time with this AU, and I can't wait to give you guys the conclusion! I'll go ahead and say it again, un-beta'd. There WILL be mistakes. I'm sure of it.

I've included some songs to go with certain parts of the chapter. Feel free to listen to them, but I'll have them linked on AO3 if you want to check it out there!

"The Hate Inside" (feat. Sam Tinnesz) / Produced by Tommee Profitt

"Cold" - Jorge Mendez (Sad Piano and Violin Instrumental)


He took a few deep, calming breaths. He hadn't expected for it to be that difficult, especially after he punched a hole in her side with stainless steel. Definitely piercing a lung. No doubt. The bubbles in the blood flowing from her mouth proved that much. Pushing away from the body, he sat down on the ground, avoiding the slowly growing pool of blood forming beneath it. Well, "her"; it had been a "her" less than half an hour ago. The disassociation from person to body was something Gabriel had learned a long time ago; back when killing had still made his stomach turn. As long as you referred to the aftermath of murder as "it", the process of disposal wasn't hard. It was a chore, a task to be completed. He already knew what he was going to do with this one. Absolutely nothing. Let someone else figure that out.

It was still warm and fresh, wouldn't need any form of treatment to keep the rot away. Not that he planned on letting it sit unattended that long. He hoped it would go long enough for it to be grotesquely traumatizing to discover. It's one thing to find a fresh body, still looking human and pretty. It's another to find a decomposing body; alien-like, infested, bloated. He hoped it would be found before the bloating; it would be a shame for such a pretty thing to, quite literally, pop once prodded.

He wiped his hands on his pants, blood already drying in the lines and crevices of his skin, before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He gave it one last look of appreciation. It had been a great time to fuck with it. The strength in such a little body… it was almost a shame to snuff that out. Almost. Too bad he never really gave a fuck about that. There was nothing unique in the world. No one that didn't have a carbon-copy somewhere else. He had learned that, too, working for his family. His Father. Even he and his siblings were disposable, replaceable. That had already been proven with Lucifer.

Gathering the rest of the shit he needed with him, he walked out of the warehouse and into the bright, sunny afternoon. The sunlight was interesting. He never really got that much of it. So far, he hadn't a clue what all the Americans boasted on about it. It was fucking hot. Blistering. He didn't plan on being in the sun that much longer. Back to the world of drab and dreary. Where the sun stayed hidden behind a blanket of clouds and gloom. Only coming out of its soothing covers to stave off the chill in the warmer months.

Gabriel pressed the 1 key on the phone, followed by the call button. It rang four times before the woman answered in her natural what-the-fuck-do-you-want tone. "Charlotte, glad I've caught you at a good time," he said without any sincerity. It didn't really fucking matter if it was a good time for her or not.

"Why are you calling me?" she said through the line, and he smiled at the disdain present in her voice. He gained a sick sense of pride from filling everyone he ever talked to with an overwhelming sense of dread and fear.

"Well, that's rude," he chimed, smiling into the salty air. "Here I was about to give you some fantastic news!" He started walking slowly away from the warehouse, unconcerned with anyone seeing him. He knew the crews were at lunch. He always cased out his locations before committing any sort of crime in them. That was just common criminal knowledge. When she didn't speak after that, he sighed loudly, rolling his eyes to no one. "Fine. I was going to have you guess, but since you don't seem to want to play, I'll just have to tell you. I'm leaving the country. I'm done here."

"Just like that?" she asked, and her worry was clear even through the not-so-great phone reception his burner had. "What did you do to Lucifer?"

"Jesus, is he really that good?" Gabriel asked, his voice higher as if surprised. "Lucifer is fine. I hardly touched him. With my person, anyways," he continued, thinking back to the one time he beat the shit out of him. Well, the one time on this continent. "No, he's fine. I just came here to make him realize he wasn't going to get away with his petty bullshit anymore. I came, I taught; my job here is done."

Charlotte was cut off by a loud horn coming from one of the ships at the harbor. Seemed lunch was over and it was time to start unloading more precious, capitalistic cargo from China or some shit. "So you just leave? Nothing else?" she asked, a small amount of hope bleeding into her words. He wished he could have seen her face. He loved when they looked hopeful. It was always fun to wipe that expression off with a .45 to the face.

"We're settled," he stated flatly, hearing her audible sigh of relief. "Listen carefully, because my Father doesn't do this often. You never contact us again. You forget we fucking exist, we forget where you live. Deal?" He made sure he put just enough threat behind the words to get his point across, while not sounding like he didn't mean it. Surprisingly, unfortunately, he did. Father insisted. Gabriel figured he just wanted to be done with the bitch from some school in America. He had bigger fish to fry, as they say. She was nothing by a single-celled organism in his sea of sex, drugs, and money. "That understood?"

"Yes," she replied quickly.

"Excellent. Well, it's been swell. Cheers!" he added, hanging up the phone, breaking it in half, and tossing it out into the dark, murky waters of the harbor. He smirked to himself; sometimes he surprised himself with how well he could set up a scene. He knew exactly when he needed to be outside. Exactly when the harbor crews finished lunch. And exactly when one of the ships would sound off a horn loud enough to be picked up over a grainy phone. He knew that Charlotte was smart enough to think that noise important. He also knew she would call Lucifer.

It was all going to go according to plan. All he had to do was let a ship horn be heard in the conversation. The rest of Lucifer's punishment would fall into line accordingly. On its own. He didn't even have to be in this godforsaken state, let alone country!

Maybe the sun wasn't so bad, after all.


[The Hate Inside]

Lucifer wasn't sure how long it had been since she walked out the door, drying tears on her cheeks. He lost track of time once all the pills he took once she left kicked in. The whiskey hadn't helped either. He stopped drinking. If he was going to go anywhere in the next 12 hours, he would need to not be drunk on top of high as fuck. He had tried to sleep, but self-loathing always made his skin crawl. Eating was worse. Staring off into the emptiness that was his life seemed to be the only thing his brain was willing to accept. Fucking punishing himself. He was the goddamned master of self-hatred and disgust. No matter how many people wished him dead, he wished it harder.

Distantly, as if it were underwater, he heard his phone ringing. In naïve panic, he rushed to find it, scrambling over to his bed to rifle through the sheets that still, somehow, smelled like her. Although it might have been in his head. Without checking the screen, he pressed the obnoxiously green button, almost dropping the device in the frenzy to get it up to his ear. "Yes, hello?" his voice came out slightly slurred, rushed, but at least the words were correct.

"Lucifer?" Charlotte's voice came out crisp on the other line. Disappointment flooded his dull senses, pulling the phone away to see the number clearly on the screen. "Lucifer, I need to talk to you."

"Why are you calling me?" he asked, sadness laced in his words, folding over and pressing his face into his hand, elbow propped on his knee.

"Gabriel called me yesterday," she said, tone softer, as if she could hear the fucked-up dread in his words. "I-I think I have something for you."

Lucifer perked at the mention of his brother. The sick part of him wanting to find him and beat his face in, the other part of him wanting to stay as far away from him as possible. "I'm listening," he responded reluctantly, after sighing heavily into the phone.

"He called, said he was leaving. Just like that," she started, and he could hear her swallow through the line. "I know I didn't talk to him very much, but, something seemed off. He seemed rushed," she finished, leaving silence through the phone.

Through the haze, Lucifer put what she said through the ringer. Thought of the options available, and even considered some highly unlikely. All things considered, the information warranted further questioning. "What do you mean 'he seemed off'?"

"Well, he said that you had learned your lesson, that he was done with you," she answered, and his blood ran cold. "It's just… from what he told me, and from what you told me, that's not really his thing. He said he didn't really hurt you, but he did something else. He did enough."

Panic settled in, but he realized the timing didn't add up if he had gone after Chloe. She had been with him up until…whenever she left, but it wasn't yesterday. She was there mere hours before. No, it had to be something else. It took far longer than it should have to put some pieces together, but the drugs could be to blame for that. Maze.

"Do you have any idea where he was? Where he was staying?"

"He never told me. But, I heard a loud horn through the line. Sounded like a ship horn. Maybe even sea gulls. I'm not sure, but I'm positive it was a ship's horn." Lucifer cursed to himself, trying his best to narrow down the many docks and harbors that were along the Los Angeles coastline. Thinking back to how his brother usually handled any business like this, he would have needed a low-traffic area, a facility that wasn't checked, or, at least, not often. Suddenly, it dawned on him, sobering him up like an ice-bath would. Lucifer knew which shipyard it had to be. He had bought many a drug there from crews smuggling exotic blends from other countries and selling them to a select few. It had to be that one. The only one with an abandoned building far enough away from prying eyes. The only one that didn't have the same level of security as some of the large docks.

"Okay, thank you," he said into his phone before hanging up, not really concerned with whatever else Charlotte had to say at the moment. He knew where Maze was. At least, he probably knew where Maze was. At the very least, he knew where she had probably been. Gabriel had to know that Charlotte would call him, so Lucifer expected a fight once he got to wherever Gabriel and Maze were stashed. That was fine. He'd fight him. He needed to. For himself and for Maze. He got her caught up in his own bullshit, when she had had enough of her own and was finally living her life for herself.

Sliding on his shoes and grabbing his keys, Lucifer ran down the stairs of his apartment building, out to his car. He got in and cranked it in a matter of seconds, peeling out of the parking spot recklessly as he headed towards the harbor he had in mind. The one with an abandoned warehouse towards the back, where the least traveled and operated ships and buildings were. A perfect spot to hide in plain sight without much risk of being found or bothered. A place filled with underpaid employees who really couldn't care less about one more guy walking around the place.

Parking at the dock, the smell of salt and sulfur filled his lungs. Dirty water made the sky almost grey, and the few birds circling overhead were, in fact, sea gulls. The atmosphere surrounding a place really did correlate to the goings-on in that area. It was dark, dank, everything in various states of wet and slimy. Leaving his car, he could see the very conspicuous cut-out in the chain-link fence. What was truly funny about it was that it was large enough that Lucifer barely had to duck to get through it. Yep. A place where the despicable thrived in their own grimy world. There were two ships docked, but he saw no crewman scurrying about. Either they were gone for the day, on a break, or still inside the ships. It worked in his favor; he wouldn't have to keep his head down to avoid eye contact, or accidentally run into anyone he knew.

The smell of filthy, oily ocean got stronger, signaling his approach towards the end of the dock, to where the old warehouse could be seen. It was just as disgusting as it had been. Windows broken, doors either locked or kicked-in. It looked all the cliché it was for criminal activity, yet, no one ever suspected a thing going on. If they did, they knew better than to say anything about it. A rank, sour smell filled the damp air in his nostrils, and he scrunched his nose trying to avoid smelling whatever pile of dead fish or fallen sea-bird could be causing it.

His footsteps echoed on the wet concrete and against the metal of the warehouse structure, the door pulled shut but unlocked. He could see the translucent plastic covering what was left of the windows on the sides of the building. Bits and pieces of torn, foggy sheeting distorting the view of whatever was inside. Lucifer reached out for the door, but his hand remained in the air, slightly shaking. He wasn't sure if they would be here; if Gabriel would have Maze here, or if he had her somewhere else. A small part of him held onto the hope that Maze wasn't with him. That she was off on another lead, just too mad at Lucifer to send word. It was the same small, atrophied part of him that held onto the hope that Chloe would ever speak to him again.

His lack of weapon was very apparent, and he cursed himself for walking into a potential lion's den without any means of defense other than his fists. They'd have to do, if it came down to it. He pushed open the door, wincing at the loud creak that followed the slow, rusted motion of the door. With the door open, wind was allowed to pass through a larger opening than the broken windows, and that putrid, acerbic smell became stronger. He cleared his throat before cautiously entering the building. It was even darker inside, the overcast sky ridding him of any helpful sunlight. He heard no movement, but that really didn't mean much when it came to either Gabriel or Maze.

The only sound was the faint drops of water falling into their respective condensation pools on the equally desolate ground. Eerie was the only way to describe it. Forsaken and decrepit. The air felt thicker, and it wasn't just the smell. He felt heavier as he walked, growing more confident that he was alone after all. He tried to look on the less bleak side, thinking if Gabriel and Maze had been here, there would be some hint to where they had gone. Knowing Maze, she would leave a proverbial trail of breadcrumbs for Lucifer to find. Lead him to her gingerbread prison, with a sadistic monster as her warden. Farther in, he saw a half-wall of exposed rebar and crumbled cement. Just passed that, he saw something out of place. A gleaming, black object. Leather, it looked, and the closer he got, he saw that it was a boot. A black, leather boot, with a chunky heel only one person would consider suitable for sleuthing.

[Cold]

He picked up the pace, turning his slow walk into an excited jog. The hopeful part of him seemed to jolt to life at the prospect of something that might lead him to answers. Something that might lead him to his friend, and ultimately, to his brother. To finish what he should have ensured years ago. Fighting the urge to call out, he rounded the crumbled wall and stopped in his tracks, knees immediately buckling, forcing him to fall harshly on shaking patellae. He felt like fire and ice were swimming in his veins, replacing his blood for freezing and burning liquid; his body breaking out in a cold sweat. Of all the things he expected, what he found, somehow, wasn't even on his radar. He never could have imagined it. Never could have even tried to.

Among the boot was its twin, a few fast food wrappers, torn and ripped articles of clothing, and a sticky, congealed pool of blood. It was larger and somehow smaller than one would expect. In the pool of rusty brown laid a body of a woman that was both familiar and far from the person it was. He felt himself inhale a much needed breath, albeit shaky, after moments of staring. The once beautiful warm, brown skin was mottled. A marbled mix of grey, yellow, and tan. He felt a sob heave through his lungs, eyes welling up as he scanned the still form in front of him. The obvious gash on her side, flys and larva already colonizing, if only just starting. Moving up, the darkness around the pulseless throat, still present even with every ounce of blood drained.

He fell forward, hands sliding into the thick, cold puddle; clumps sticking to his skin like dipping fingers into jam. Reaching her face was the hardest. It was what made it real. What made the body not just a body. What gave the corpse a face, a name, a life snuffed. Her once hard, dark eyes were now lifeless, dull, slightly protruding. Small amounts of dried, flaky blood surrounded her nose and corners of her mouth. Lips paler than cement were parted, a fly sneaking inside its new home. The only thing that looked right was her hair. Still a beautiful black mass on her head, unaffected by lack of life. The perfect dark halo for someone as brilliant and vicious as she was.

Tears were falling freely, landing in the blood, shiny drops over dull red. He allowed himself that much. Allowed the emotions to come, to take over him, sober him. Once the initial shock had worn off, fiery, wrathful rage filled him. He moved closer, knowingly destroying the scene, but uncaring. He reached out to touch her, but quickly pulled his hand back as if burned. He didn't deserve that bit of comfort. He didn't deserve to touch her after what he caused her. He beat his fist into the ground, cursing out into the air, letting it echo and fill his ears. A shout he hoped Gabriel could hear. He hoped it would chase him down, haunt him until Lucifer could put him in Hell for what he had done. He knew he would, the second he saw her; he knew he would end Gabriel, be his demise, obliterate him with a force only hate and pure pain could forge. Gabriel would die for what he had done to Maze, and Lucifer would make sure he suffered for it.

After finding a spare tarp and covering her naked, abused body, he sat down next to her, out of the blood pool. He wiped his hands on his pants, but the congealed blood hardly moved, sticking to him like a filthy reminder of his fault in her death. Red-handed, to blame. He pulled out his phone, dialed three numbers, and waited.

Turns out, saying you're sitting next to the body of LAPD's best bondswoman earns you a quick police response. It seemed within minutes of calling he could hear the sirens getting closer. Upon hearing them remain at the same volume before stopping altogether, he gave Maze one last glance. A consolatory view of the tarp he covered her with. Blocking off the world and letting her hide like she wanted. He got up and stepped to the side, in plain view of the door he had come through, and knelt down, lacing his fingers together behind his head. The ultimate stance of surrender, submission. The just take me, I won't fight position he never took willingly.

Surprisingly, the first two people to burst through the door were familiar. Detective Espinoza came in, gun drawn, followed by the small-but-mighty Ella, duffle bag slung on her shoulder. She started to job when she saw Lucifer, but Dan grabbed her arm with his free hand, keeping her behind him as they approached the crouched man on the ground. Lucifer could see the devastation already on Ella's face before she saw the tarp, the less-than-obvious outline of a body beneath it, and all the blood. She instantly started crying, the bag dropping from her shoulder as she squat down, her body just barely hovering above the ground.

Dan kept his eyes and gun trained on Lucifer, clearly wanting to look up to see what Ella was falling apart over. "I covered her up," Lucifer croaked out, a slight tremble in his voice. "I, I just didn't want everyone to see her like that."

"Shut up," Dan ordered, although his voice was quiet and soft. He watched as Ella finally fell the last two inches to the ground, sitting, her knees drawn up, quivering hand over her mouth. "Don't fucking move," Dan gritted out, shaking his gun for effect before slowly walking towards the body, keeping his gun aimed at Lucifer, although slightly lowered. He shuffled over to the top of the tarp, where a pair of discolored hands were exposed, still chained to the rusted radiator. With his free hand, he lifted the tarp enough to see the face of the victim under it. "Shit!" he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut as Ella let out a loud sob at the clear identification. Lucifer felt new, hot tears trickle down his cheeks, but he held his position, glancing over to Ella, who was looking at him with sad eyes. He broke down again at that, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, slumping even lower but keeping his hands behind his head.

More officers started pouring into the building, including the county coroner and medical examiner. Ella managed to compose herself enough to take the pictures needed of Maze's body, uncovered, as quickly as possible, throwing a medical sheet over her delicately to give the woman the dignity she wasn't afforded in death. Once Maze's body could be left alone for a bit, Ella started cataloguing the articles of clothing lying around, taking pictures of those, sniffling between flashes, sparing quick glances in Lucifer's direction.

Dan was off to the side, on his cell phone, gun holstered, and wiping a hand down his face. He was starting at Lucifer and the two officers standing next to him. He had been detained, sticky hands cuffed behind his back, still kneeling. The two uniformed officers had assured him that he wasn't under arrest yet, just being held until the situation became clearer. Ella walked towards him after bagging all the evidence and took pictures of his hands and the soles of his shoes, just to corroborate his story of finding the body.

Before walking away, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly as she bent down to whisper in his ear. "I'll call Chloe," she said, quickly walking off, leaving him open-mouthed, wanting to stop her but finding it nearly impossible. What would he say? Tell her no, because he had fucked up and Chloe probably hated him? The small woman was gone before he could pretend to formulate a response, and when the coroner's crew brought it a stretcher, Dan came by and grabbed him by the arm, helping him up and walking him out of the building. Lucifer looked over his shoulder the entire time, watching as two gangly boys barely out of their teens lifted the covered corpse of his best friend onto a body-bag lined stretcher, zipping her away, encased in black, and alone.

Dan took Lucifer to his unmarked car, undoing the cuffs before pressing him into the back seat and slamming the door. In the too-cramped space, Lucifer watched as Dan said a few curt words to a uniformed office, glancing at Lucifer through the back window. He patted the officer on the back before sliding into the drivers' seat and cranking the ignition. All of the electronics in the car beeped on, and they just sat there, in silence, for a few long, drawn-out moments.

"I have to take you down to the station for questioning," Dan said, finally breaking the silence. He looked back at Lucifer through the rearview mirror; eyes hard and concerned. "How long have you known Maze?"

"Five years," Lucifer answered, watching his own knee bounce from anxious energy. "She was the first person I met here," he reminisced, wishing he could smile at the memory, but the pain was still too fresh. "We live on the same floor in an apartment complex downtown."

Dan nodded in acknowledgement, moving to put the car in drive, but stopped just short of shifting gears. "Once we get to the station, we'll ask for an alibi. If you can provide one that we can corroborate, great. But that won't answer how or why Maze got here, or how you found her. Understand?"

"Yeah," Lucifer responded, keeping his eyes down, avoiding looking at the man in front of him. Dan seemed to watch him for a few more seconds before sighing, putting the car in gear, and driving off towards the station.

Ella watched Dan and Lucifer pull away from the scene as she loaded the rest of the collected evidence into the CSU van, along with her duffle and camera. She would have to take a DNA sample from Lucifer at the station, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to go ahead and let Chloe know what was going on. Stepping away from the van and the rest of the CSI team, she pulled out her phone and selected Chloe's contact icon. She wasn't even sure what she was going to say, and she was lost for words as soon as Chloe answered.

"Ella? What's going on?" Chloe asked through the phone, no hint of concern in her voice. She didn't know to feel any yet.

"Um, I think you need to come down to the station," the smaller woman suggested, clearing her throat as she kept herself from crying again. "Mazikeen Smith's body was just discovered at Watchorn Basin," she added, voice hitching.

"What?" Chloe whispered, and Ella could just imagine the pure shock on her face. "Her body?" Chloe's voice had gone up a few octaves, sounded much quieter, more reserved; devastated.

"Yeah," Ella replied shakily, tears forming in her eyes. "Anyways, um, Lucifer called it in. Dan is taking him to the station now, so I thought you should know." She didn't hear anything through the line for a while, and she checked to make sure the call hadn't dropped, but then Chloe's quiet voice came through the speaker.

"I'll be right there, okay?" Ella could hear keys rattling in the background, so she told Chloe she would see her soon and hung up, walking back towards the van. She got in once the rest of the team completed the tasks and they made their way back to the station to start sorting and collecting more evidence from everything they could find.

Chloe did her best to walk into the station as calmly as possible. Everyone there would be on edge. Maze hadn't been a cop, but she worked with them, and that made her one of them. And no one hurt one of them without the wrath of the entire force knocking at their door. There was whispering, a lot of shuffling about, and the distinct air of this is bad suffocating the mood of the station. Maze hadn't been the most likeable person, but she had done her job well, never declined an offer, and knew exactly when pushing the boundaries of legality were necessary and appreciated. Chloe hadn't had very much interaction with her, but her name was well-known and respected. Her absence would be felt for a long time to come.

She made her way through the moderately crowded precinct towards the lab, where she expected to find Ella. She hadn't expected a call like the one she received, and she wasn't sure why Ella told her to come down, but she sounded distraught, rightfully so. It was one thing to work the crime scene of a stranger, photographing the results of the worst parts of humanity, collecting the castaway sins left there. It was another to have to see someone you knew, distended and too still, left to rot, thrown out with less care than household trash.

Sure enough, hiding away in the dark of her lab, swollen eyes circled by large glasses, and cataloguing the remnants of clothing, was a crouching Ella. When the small woman noticed Chloe coming through the door, she carefully set aside the evidence, tearing off her nitrile gloves before hurrying to hug Chloe. She didn't cry, just took in a shaky breath, squeezing her friend tightly. Recent loss did that to people; made them try to cling to all they held dear, fresh with the notion that they could disappear in an instant.

"What happened?" Chloe asked, breaking the silence once Ella pulled away, smoothing imaginary stray hairs back into her ponytail.

"Um, Maze," Ella started, clearing her throat, obviously still finding it difficult to talk about. The image of her chained, beaten, and bled-out body still picture-perfect in her mind. "Her body was found in an abandoned warehouse in Watchorn Basin a few hours ago."

Chloe thought it over for a second. She had become excellent with compartmentalizing problematic situations. She would mourn Maze later. First, she needed to feed her long-starved detective senses. "Is this related to her putting in indefinite leave? What you told me about at my place?"

"We're not sure, but seems likely," Ella shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked nervous for a second, avoiding Chloe's gaze as she chewed her bottom lip raw.

"Ella, what is it?" Chloe asked, knowing her well enough to see the discomfort, the uncertainty.

"Lucifer called it in," she stated softly, taking in a deep, relieving breath, tension visibly releasing. "He found the body." Ella just stared at Chloe, eyes wide and almost accusatory. Not that she thought Chloe had anything to do with this, but that she had a potential suspect in her home. Very wet, very naked. Chloe's mouth parted as she processed the information. The implication of that information.

"What did the ME put for time of death?" she asked, staring at Ella as her friend gave her the look of this doesn't look good.

"Chloe," Ella drawled, pleading for her to not go down that line of though. Chloe just stared at her; expression hard, sturdy, not backing down. With a sigh, Ella complied and gave an answer. "Within the last 48 hours."

"He has an alibi," Chloe offered, nodding her head, going over the last two days in her head. Most of it had been with him. There were times unaccounted for, but what was a little perjury to the list of her current sins. Ella opened her mouth to say something, a warning, but Chloe held up her hand, effectively silencing her. "Where is he?"

"Dan has him in an interrogation room," she answered, almost regretfully. "He hasn't been arrested or Mirandized. I don't think he's saying much."

Chloe reached for the door, but stopped herself, turning back to Ella with a wistful smile on her lips. "Thank you for calling me."

"He looks destroyed, Chlo," Ella whispered, turning her gaze towards her shoes before turning to go back to her work. The quicker she organized and submitted everything to third-party labs, the quicker the station could begin their investigation. Chloe nodded in acknowledgment and quietly slipped back out into the bullpen. No one paid her any attention, as if it wasn't strange a civilian walking through the place. Like she still belonged there. That panged in her chest in a way she hadn't felt since the weeks she first left, but it wasn't the time for nostalgia.

She checked the lights above the two interrogation rooms and decided to risk knocking on the one door that had the right light ignited above it. She heard the muffled voice suddenly stop, the barely audible squeak of a chair, and then the door opened. Dan looked annoyed before shocked to see Chloe standing at the door. She wasn't able to peek inside to see Lucifer before Dan pulled the door shut behind him, turning to face her with his arms folded across his chest.

"I guess Ella told you what happened?" he asked, not upset, just exhausted. He figured Ella would call her with the news anyway. Chloe nodded, her eyebrows pinching together in a wince. "And I take it you know who's in there." A statement, no question of the answer.

"Has he said anything?" she asked, voice quiet, knowing full and well that she shouldn't be asking, and Dan certainly shouldn't be telling her anything. Luckily, Dan had never been entirely on the moral high ground of ethical behavior.

He sighed loudly, his hands going to his hips in a huff. "No. He won't say how he found her, won't say if he knows anything about who could have done this to her, not that it matters. Plenty of shitty people hate her for putting them away," he digressed, lifting his arms to rub at his temples. "It's not looking good for him."

"Has he provided an alibi for the last 48 hours?" Dan looked at her in disbelief, like he couldn't believe she knew the time of death, but then realization hit and he rolled his eyes. Ella the forever loyal. He shook his head, and it was her time to help Lucifer. To damn herself in her ex-husband's eyes. "I can provide an alibi for him." Dan blinked, a beat to a pause in any sound between them.

"But you didn't have class," he started, his words trailing off as Chloe closed her eyes and lowered her head. She shouldn't feel bad for it, but when Dan looked at her as if she truly disappointed him, it was kind of had to not feel something. "You can provide an alibi for him for the past 48 hours?" Again, another statement, not a question.

"Yes," she said, nodding, gritting her teeth. She could take a judgmental look, but she wasn't going to be bitched out in her former place of work over something like this, especially with the death of a seemingly innocent woman needing to be investigated.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head again, as if he could rewind and redo the last minute of his life. "You can make a statement, and then he can leave. I don't have enough to hold him." Chloe nodded and watched as Dan walked off towards his desk to retrieve the proper statement forms. She would have to provide an official statement and sign in. It would be recorded, their secret; written in her own hand for the world to see and judge. He brought the form over to her, let her write out a quick account of the last couple days, and watched her sign it, again, in disbelief that she made it official. He took the pages with a curt grin and disappeared into the interrogation room once again. Lucifer would need to read the account and make any corrections, if he deemed appropriate to do so. He would have to sign it as well. Like a contract. Hey, we made poor ethical choices together, and we liked it.

Dan pulled him out of the room about ten minutes later, nearly shoving him to move. Lucifer was stiff, like a giant mannequin that needed rearranging. He looked up and made eye contact with Chloe. Ella was right. He looked absolutely devastated. His eyes were red from grief, his hands looked dirty, like he had spread filth on them and tried to clean them with a wet-wipe. He just gaped at Chloe. There was so much that needed to be said between them, but Chloe wasn't a monster. She could see he needed something, he needed someone to care, to hold him. Whatever the hell they were needed to be put on hold. What needed to be done was two humans finding comfort in one another. She could do that. No matter her feelings, no matter the betrayal that tainted the taste in her mouth at the sight of him, she could be there for him. They could talk later. They would talk later. She had questions, and she hoped to fucking god he had answers for them. Dan made a final push to his shoulder in the direction of Chloe before walking off. Lucifer just stumbled towards her, and they walked out together in pregnant silence towards her car.