A/N: Thank you for the comments & feedback so far! I appreciate it :)

Chapter 13

Shoulder the Weight

It was late. Chloe had been asleep going on an hour now, but rest continued to elude Lucifer.

He felt too overwhelmed; too overcome with emotions—wide-ranging and unfamiliar. So many different thoughts bounced around erratically in his mind while his memories replayed over and over again what had happened only hours ago.

Chloe had chosen him.

I think my heart chose you that first night we spent together at Lux, she'd said. The way those words had sounded as they left her lips had him longing to take flight again. It was the first time he'd wished for his wings back, if only so that he could wrap her up in his arms and take her soaring amongst his stars.

He tightened his arm around her as she murmured nonsense against his shoulder and then snored loudly. It made him smile, amused that this beautiful human could produce such hideous sounds—and from such a perfect mouth no less.

Slipping out from under her, he padded softly to the foot of the bed to yank his sweatpants on. They were soft and comfortable, yes, but he didn't see what Chloe found quite so appealing about them.

He rifled through the pockets of his discarded jacket for a pack of cigarettes, his lighter, and his flask. He hadn't felt much need to indulge in his usual vices since Chloe had entered his life, but he thought that tonight maybe the nicotine and liquor would help calm his restless mind.

The balcony of their suite was a decent size, and it made him glad that he had splurged on the suite for that reason alone. He slipped the flask into the pocket of his sweatpants and flicked the lighter, guiding the tip of the cigarette into the flame.

Inhaling, he enjoyed the way the smoke burned his throat and lungs. Well, that was new.

It seemed like since Chloe, everything was new. Everything he'd known to be true for millennia had changed. The course of his life was uncertain and truth seemed arbitrary, subjective even.

The strangest part was that he didn't care. He wasn't worried about the fact that all of a sudden he could bleed and feel pain. Sure, it was unpleasant at times, and certainly disconcerting when new emotions consumed him. But…he kind of reveled in it—the new feelings and sensations he had begun to experience. They produced in him a novel sort of high.

And the way she made him feel…he'd never felt anything quite so good before. Even his happiness in the early days in the Silver City seemed to pale in comparison to the joy he felt when he was with Chloe. His heart sped up at the direction of his thoughts as they turned to her. His heart beat for her.

A whole life so lonely

And then you come and ease the pain

The lyrics from one of her favorite songs, the song he'd sung for her that night at Lux, played in his mind's ear. He hadn't realized at the time just how much those lyrics would come to ring true for him; for them.

No one had ever taken an interest in him before, not the way she did. Everyone else took an interest until their desires were fulfilled—just enough of an interest to get what they wanted from him.

And for a long time, he truly hadn't minded it. He was desire personified. It had given him satisfaction and purpose to fulfill the desires of others, but in the months before Chloe, making deals and doing favors had begun to feel mundane and tedious.

Chloe didn't do things for him in terms of an exchange—she wasn't thinking about what he could do for her in return; she did things for him because she wanted to. He remembered her joy at the planetarium; how it had made her happy to see him happy. What a curious thing, to have someone else's happiness influence your own. But he understood, because he felt the same way when it came to her.

When everyone else looked at him, they saw wickedness—a scapegoat for their sins. Somehow, Chloe only saw the good in him. At first, he'd thought that would only make it harder to show her his true self, but perhaps her conviction that he was good would serve as a buffer?

He took a slow drag on the cigarette and stared out at the dark sky, sprinkled with his stars, just barely visible from this vantage point. Even still, just knowing they were there, that they were a constant presence, was soothing.

Chloe cleared her throat softly behind him, and he turned to find her standing in the doorway of the balcony, the entire king-sized comforter wrapped around and trailing behind her as she stepped barefoot out onto the concrete.

"Hey," she said quietly, the late hour making it seem imperative to whisper. "You okay?"

He hummed, sending her a small smile as she tentatively joined him. He put the cigarette out against the balcony railing just in case she disliked the smell or the smoke.

Leaning her cheek against his bare arm, she followed his gaze out to the night sky. "They're comforting to you, aren't they?" she asked, turning her face to look up at him. "The stars."

"They are," he confirmed. "They remind me of a simpler time, of a place that used to be home, but hasn't been for quite a while now."

She pressed a tiny kiss to his arm. "Do you ever talk to your siblings?" she asked and hoped the question wasn't too intrusive.

"No."

"Are they… okay?"

"Oh, I'm sure they're just fine. Content to carry out Father's orders no questions asked, flying around the Silver City without a care or an original thought in their minds."

"So they're not…in hell? Like you were?" she ventured.

"Oh no. I was the only one banished to Hell."

The hurt and bitterness in his voice had her blinking back sudden tears and she reached for him, tracing her hand up and down the length of his arm.

What did he mean by that? What did he mean when he talked about hell and being banished there? She couldn't help that her mind conjured up dark and terrible scenarios. Had he been locked away in a dank basement? Had he been kept in isolation from his siblings, unable to see the stars that brought him so much peace and comfort?

"You were alone?" she whispered looking up at him, her eyes wet and shiny.

He nodded, but kept his gaze forward. "For a long time I was. And then Mazikeen happened upon me and well, she helped pull me out of my despair."

"Have you thought about reaching out to your siblings now that you're not in hell anymore?" she asked, and she felt a little strange working within his metaphors, but she didn't know how else to phrase it. She hoped that one day he'd feel comfortable enough with her to speak freely about his experiences without the safety net the Biblical metaphors provided him. "Would they want to hear from you?"

Through small, bitter chuckles, Lucifer heaved a sad sigh. "I'm afraid not. I was named the Adversary and was cast out; banished from the Silver City, forbidden from returning for all of eternity. When Father gave the order, my siblings' minds were made up about me; none of them would ever question His will."

"Not even Michael?" she pressed. "Your twin?" She thought back to the fond smile Lucifer had worn at the planetarium as he spoke of how he and Michael had created the stars of Gemini together.

He huffed mirthlessly. "It was Michael, my twin, who bound my wings and hurled me into those fiery pits far below."

Inhaling sharply through her nose, Chloe felt a stab of vicarious betrayal on behalf of Lucifer. How could his sibling, his twin, do that to him?

She ducked underneath his arm and wedged herself between his body and the railing of the balcony so that she could hug him tightly. She squeezed him, cocooning them both in the large comforter, as she spoke fervently into his chest, "I'm so sorry, Lucifer. You did not deserve that."

His laugh was disbelieving. "You don't even know what I did, Detective," he said perplexed, as his hands left the railing to encircle her waist. "How can you possibly know what I deserved?"

She stroked his back and tipped her face toward his to meet his eyes. "Because I know you," she said tearfully. "I've come to know you so well over these past few weeks. I know your heart and I know that you could never do anything to deserve being rejected by your family like that or being thrown into a place you liken to hell. No one deserves that, certainly not you."

"You have that much faith in me, Chloe?" he asked, staring at her in utter bewilderment as if he were trying to understand her thoughts. "You don't even want to hear what I did?"

"I do have faith in you. You are a good person," she asserted. "But if you want to tell me what happened, what you think you did, then of course I'll listen. But my opinion won't change."

He felt his heart speed up at her words.

Her belief in him was unwavering. All he saw as he gazed upon her was trust and affection and sorrow—sympathy for the Devil?—reflected in those glossy blue eyes of hers.

He did want to tell her; he wanted to hear her reassurances that he wasn't evil or wrong, but he was scared. What if it changed the way she saw him? All of humanity, since the beginning of time, had blamed him for the rebellion in the Silver City and for what had happened in the Garden. Why would Chloe be any different?

"I…I asked for too much. You see, I wanted free will—the same way you humans had it. I wanted to have my own desires and opinions and thoughts; I wanted to make my own choices. But angels aren't supposed to have those things. We are meant to be unquestioning servants to His will."

A swell of emotion crept up his throat, and he cleared it, nervously stumbling over his words as she held him close and stroked the smooth skin of his lower back, her fingertips just barely grazing the textured edges of his scars.

"And when He denied me…I rebelled. I led a rebellion against my Father and my siblings," he managed through a small, choked sob.

Chloe pressed a kiss to his chest, just above his racing heart.

"I never wanted to hurt anyone," he said softly, shakily.

"Shhh," Chloe comforted. She kissed the spot again. "I know you didn't."

"I just wanted to be my own person."

"Nothing about that is wrong. Everyone has the right to free will. You deserve to make your own decisions. And rebelling against an abusive parent is not wrong. He was wrong, and your siblings were wrong to turn their backs on you."

He inhaled unevenly. "You're the one and only person who believes that, Detective. I've suffered the consequences of that rebellion, wrong or not, for millennia. I lost my home… Humanity has vilified and slandered me ever since and will continue to do so until humankind is no more," he muttered sadly, but he had resigned himself to it. Their prejudice against him ran too deep; it was far too embedded in the traditions of Christianity for it to ever change. He scoffed. "I find the title 'The Prince of Lies' to be particularly offensive."

"But you don't lie," Chloe cut in confused.

"Exactly."

"Then why do you care what they think?"

Lucifer shrugged; he didn't know why it bothered him so greatly. After a beat, her words sank in and he looked at her curiously. "You… you believe me when I say I'm not a liar?"

"Of course I do."

"You don't think I'm evil?" he pressed.

"Nothing you just told me would make me think for even a second that you are evil."

She was so adamant, so confident in her assertion, that he started to wonder if maybe she could be right. He trusted her implicitly; she was so clever and she had such notable instincts. If she thought he wasn't evil, then how could he be?

He'd never allowed himself to open up to anyone in this way before, he'd never allowed himself to be vulnerable, but he felt like he could be with Chloe. She made him feel safe and seen. While he knew Chloe didn't believe the absolute truth of his words, she never denied or questioned the stories he told about his past.

He rubbed her back over the thick fabric of the comforter. "I'm sorry to put such a damper on an otherwise perfect evening, darling," he apologized through a sheepish grin.

"You didn't," she said, pulling away slightly to look at him. "Not at all. I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. And it makes me hurt to know that you endured so much pain…but maybe I can help you shoulder the weight of that pain. I want to help you carry it, if you'll let me."

He stared at her, awestruck, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He could barely believe that after eons of pain and suffering, he had somehow made his way here, into her arms.

Her words made him think that maybe, just maybe, she would be able to look past his devil face. Maybe she would be the first person ever to fully accept him as he was. She gave him hope.

His arms around her waist kept her steady as she lifted herself onto her toes to bring their faces together. Her kiss was soft and reassuring against his lips.

Turning in his embrace, she leaned heavily against his chest as his arms wrapped around her front. He felt awkward with the new position; she could tell by the way he stiffened up behind her, but she gave him time to adjust and after a few moments, he did. It was satisfying, to feel him relax as she rested against him. And this way, they both could look out at his stars.

Eventually, Chloe's eyelids grew heavy and started to droop and flutter under the weight of her sleepiness. Lucifer was so steady and solid and warm behind her that she could have fallen asleep just like that, standing up on the balcony of their hotel room in San Francisco. It made her chuckle, to wonder what Lucifer would do if she did fall asleep. He'd probably be so reluctant to wake her that he'd just stand there awake all night, making sure she didn't fall.

"Are you ready to go back to bed?" she asked through a yawn.

His mind had calmed considerably, her presence soothing the swirling thoughts of his anxieties, and he nodded. Smiling, mischievous and happy, he scooped her into his arms.

"Lucifer," she gasped through her laughter, winding her arms tightly around his neck as he carried her back into their room.

Soft morning sunlight touched Lucifer's eyelids, making them flutter as he was slowly tugged into consciousness.

He hummed deeply in his chest, a rumbling contented sound, as he became aware of Chloe's warm body tucked against his.

Her soft hair, messy and tangled from their nighttime activities, tickled the tip of his nose, making it scrunch up at the bridge. Even still, he buried it further into her locks until it bumped against the nape of her neck, and he inhaled her comforting scent.

Tightening his arm around her middle, he pulled her in closer to his chest, feeling her sigh against him. He basked in the perfect feeling of waking up for the first time next to the person his heart had been longing for, knowing that she'd been longing for him as well.

Chloe had chosen him. He still couldn't believe it, but it was difficult to deny or dismiss as a fluke—especially after their late night conversation on the balcony.

He couldn't help himself when he pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, and then moved to her shoulder to press another kiss there over the soft fabric of her t-shirt.

It wasn't his intention to wake her—he'd just felt the compulsive desire to feel her skin against his lips and had given in—but she stirred against him, groaning softly as she woke. She snuggled deeper into his chest, her hand finding his where it rested just beneath her breasts, pulling it up to her face so that she could press a kiss to his knuckles.

"Good morning, Lucifer," she breathed out, her voice thick and scratchy from sleep, and he could hear the smile on her face even if he couldn't see it.

"Good morning indeed, Detective," he said softly through his own wide grin. And when she rolled in his arms to face him he felt silly, smiling like an idiot at her, but he couldn't manage to wipe the grin off his face. Her own smile mirrored his, though, and he could tell that she felt just as happy to wake up next to him. With that realization, he couldn't resist closing the distance between them and kissing the tip of her nose.

The gesture made her giggle, and she tipped her chin up to capture his lips in a chaste good-morning kiss. Lucifer tried to deepen it, but she pulled away with a chuckle and lifted her hand to cover her mouth.

"Uh uh," she explained, "Morning breath."

"But Chloe," he whined, drawing out her name, and she pressed her face into the center of his chest, giggling at his childishness.

"Let me brush my teeth first," she mumbled into his skin, but as she began to roll away from him, he tightened his arms around her.

"Just…lie here for a moment longer?" he requested softly.

"Mmmm, okay," she easily agreed, settling back in against him, her eyes already heavy again. It was early, Chloe wasn't a morning person, and they had gotten very little sleep the night before.

He traced patterns on her back, soothing her into a dreamy state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Occasionally, his fingers would dip lower, slipping underneath the hem of her cotton shorts to scratch softly over the curve of her bottom, making goosebumps arise all over her skin as she giggled sleepily into his chest.

She held him close too, her arm curling around him, fingertips resting in the dimples of his lower back.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked softly, her eyes still closed.

His chest shook as he chuckled. "About as well as can be expected when your bedmate snores like an Albanian field wench," he teased impishly.

Her eyes popped open and she jerked away from him, her cheeks pink with embarrassment. "Did I keep you up? Is that why you went out onto the balcony last night?"

"No, darling, I'm only teasing," he said with a sparkle in his eye. As he tugged her back into his body, he admitted, "Truth be told, I found it soothing. It reminded me that you were beside me."

His confession made her hold him a little tighter, and she buried her face into his neck to hide her emotion from him. He was such a sweet and special person; it made her heart ache to think that he'd never had love and affection before her—she couldn't imagine going thirty-some years without feeling cared for, without having an emotional connection. She was happy and honored that she could be that for him now.

"What time do we have to get back to the helicopter?" she asked through a yawn, feeling more awake now.

Lucifer rolled onto his back and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. He scrolled through his messages before saying, "Looks like we have a little bit of time; they estimate a departure time around noon."

Chloe hummed, rolling into his side, and he lifted his arm so that she could settle once more against him.

"I want to shower and brush my teeth," she said, pressing a kiss to the soft skin beneath her lips.

"Of course," he agreed. "And then maybe brunch?"

As if on cue, Chloe's stomach growled loudly. Through soft embarrassed laughter, she said, "Brunch sounds amazing. If it wasn't obvious." And she patted her stomach for emphasis.

Finally rolling out of his embrace, she stood from the bed, stretching her stiff muscles. She felt pleasantly sore in all the right places.

His eyes never left her as she sauntered over to the bathroom, and she put on a little show, tugging her t-shirt up and over her head and then shimmying out of her shorts.

When she called over her shoulder, "Join me?" he'd never climbed out of bed quite so fast.

It was the whistling that first grabbed her attention. Lucifer was whistling as he glided through Lux.

Maze scowled at the large, goofy grin that stretched his cheeks as he made his way over to her.

"What's got you so chipper?" she asked through her frown. She turned to face him, leaving the wet rag on the bar as she folded her arms across her chest.

He rounded the bar and grabbed a bottle of scotch, ignoring her ire toward him.

"I think I'm in a relationship with Chloe," he replied still a little awed by the idea of it.

She tilted her head at him in disbelief, her scowl deepening. "Yeah," she said as though it were obvious. "I thought that was part of your little deal with her."

"Well, it was…but dare I say, it's real now. Chloe chose me."

Mazikeen's arms fell to her sides.

"What's happening to you?" she demanded, and he could tell she was furious, but there was also desperation in her voice. "The Devil doesn't do relationships! He doesn't have feelings for humans. He doesn't have feelings at all."

Lucifer's smile slipped. "That's where you're wrong, Mazikeen," he said. "I have always had feelings. I've always been different from my siblings; it's what got me into trouble in the past. Here, though, with the humans, I fit in."

"Yeah, a little too well," his demon huffed. "Look at you, all giddy and lovesick; it's disgusting. You're bleeding and vulnerable. You're never at Lux anymore, and you haven't punished anyone in the weeks since you met your little pet human. Well, except for those two cops who harassed her."

He grinned, remembering that night, and for an instant Maze saw the old Lucifer shine through. He was still in there; he wasn't lost for good yet.

Then, he sighed. "She makes me want to be a better person."

"But you're not a person!" Maze yelled, irritated. "You're the Devil! Your feelings for her are making you weak; why can't you see that?"

"I don't feel weak, though, Maze. I feel incredible," he tried to explain, but he knew she would never understand. Demons didn't have souls, and they certainly didn't experience the softer emotions.

She sighed, frustrated, because she didn't understand. "My King," she tried, appealing to the ruler of Hell instead. "I have vowed to protect you; even from dangers you can't—or won't—see. Do I need to take care of this problem for us?"

In an instant, Lucifer had Maze pinned against the bar with a hand to her throat, his red eyes glowing menacingly.

"You will not touch her, Mazikeen," he ordered through a snarl.

"There he is," she gasped out, smiling even as he squeezed harder. "You think your precious human will accept you like this? This is who you are, Lucifer."

He released her, and her hand came up to her neck.

"Humans fear you. Chloe won't be any different."

"She is different, though," Lucifer insisted, even though Maze's words had amplified the doubt in his mind that his conversation with Chloe the previous night had very nearly erased.

Maze snorted doubtingly. "Don't come crying to me when she runs from you screaming in fear."

"Hi, Lucifer," Chloe said almost shyly as she exited the elevator and entered into Lucifer's penthouse.

Lucifer was at his piano playing a soft, melancholy tune, but he stopped as soon as he heard her voice and turned to face her.

"Hello, darling," he said through a happy little smile, and the term of endearment had her pulse thumping excitedly at how genuine it sounded from his lips now that they were something more.

She approached him, her own happy smile mirroring his, and then slid onto the piano bench next to him. The way he beamed at her made her feel giddy and just so lucky, and she couldn't resist leaning into him and pressing a kiss to the curve of his lips. Pressing a kiss to her smile.

"How was your day?" he asked when they pulled away. The desire to touch her, to keep her close, was so strong though, that his fingers grazed her cheek and then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Better now," she admitted, and she knew it was cheesy—so cheesy she very nearly cringed at herself—but Lucifer needed to hear it. He needed to hear how much joy he brought her just by existing.

"Really?" he asked, looking at her with that awed expression of his.

She bit her lip and nodded. "I've been looking forward to seeing you all day. I missed you."

His hand slipped around to the back of her neck and he brought her face in gently toward his so that he could kiss her again, soft and tender. She responded immediately, kissing him so lovingly that he'd never experienced anything like it. He never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again.

"I missed you too, Chloe." She knew it was difficult for him to express these types of feelings, and his voice shook a little as he spoke, but he was getting better at it. It made her feel proud that he was comfortable enough to attempt it with her.

She scooted closer to him on the bench so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. "What were you playing before?"

His fingers found the keys again as he said, "Just a little melody I wrote long ago."

"Will you play some for me?"

He hummed and easily picked up the tune where he'd left off. She listened, her head bobbing a little against his arm as he played, but she kept it there regardless, wanting to remain in contact with him.

The song was so very sad, she easily picked up on that even though she was no expert when it came to interpreting music. She wondered if he had composed it when he was in a dark place and wondered why he felt the need to play it now, when things were so good between them. He seemed happy, but the music he played made her stomach start to churn with worry.

He finished playing, and they sat in silence for a moment. The song had set a somber mood and both were lost to their thoughts.

Finally, Chloe pulled away from him and cleared her throat, attempting to put her worries behind her for now. "So what's the plan for dinner?"

He averted his eyes nervously and slid as far away from her as the bench would allow. "Actually, Detective, before dinner there's something I need to talk to you about."

The churning in her stomach increased. He sounded so nervous and serious, the use of his nickname for her far from playful. He'd used it to put distance between them.

"Okay," she said softly, and while her voice was encouraging, he could hear the nerves underneath. "You can tell me anything, Lucifer."

He stood abruptly and made his way to the bar.

She confused him; her support and trust in him made it difficult to predict how she'd react to seeing his face. He was hopeful; and he hated himself a little for feeling that spark of hope because more than likely her response would be the same as anyone else who'd ever seen his other face.

But somehow, that little spark of hope overpowered the fear of rejection.

Turning on the piano bench, she followed him with her eyes. He reached for the bottle of Macallan and poured himself three fingers, downing it all in one go. Then he poured two more and set the glass aside, in case he needed it later.

He looked at her from across the bar. "I need you to know, Detective, that I've come to care for you a great deal. More than I've cared for anyone else in a very long time. Maybe ever. I hope you know that I'd never hurt you."

Chloe's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What? Lucifer, of course I know that. What's going on?"

She stood, meaning to join him at the bar, but he held out his hand. "Just stay there, please. Just for a moment."

"Okay," she said, freezing in place.

"Chloe," he began, a tiny smile, nervous yet hopeful, pulling at his lips. "I know you don't believe me when I say it, so I'm going to have to show you." He took a deep breath, so deep she watched his chest expand. "I am the Devil." and as the words left his mouth, his smooth, alabaster skin seemed to catch fire and melt away, morphing into something else, something other. His face blistered, the now-red skin cracking and burnt.

It was all wrong.

She was staring at the actual Devil, who was wearing the same nervous smile Lucifer had been wearing seconds ago. Her Lucifer.

Fear surged through her veins. She was frozen in place, like a wide-eyed doe in the middle of the highway in the path of a speedily approaching semi. Would Satan himself slaughter her the same way the semi would slaughter the deer?

Her neural circuitry pumped norepinephrine through her brain, and it was her mind's way of signaling to her that she was staring at absolute danger. That she needed to run.

"Lucifer?" she breathed out through shaky, rapid breaths as her heart pounded quick and relentless in her chest. His name felt weird on her tongue in a way it never had before, and it wasn't until his name left her lips that she realized that he was the Lucifer—the most evil being in all of existence if you believed in God. Which, she supposed she had to now.

Her tongue felt thick in her mouth as she struggled to swallow. She felt as though she were choking, her heart racing so fast she thought she might have a heart attack. Her hands shook with adrenaline, her brain never wavering from its stance that she needed to get the hell out of there.

One step backward. One small step backward, and Lucifer's devilish visage faded away to the familiar face she knew; the face she thought she might be falling for.

But that was over now. She knew who he truly was and she was terrified.

Lucifer watched helplessly as she took another step backward, her knees bumping into the bench of his piano; fear undeniably etched into every line of her face. His brow furrowed a little as tears stung the corners of his eyes.

"Chloe," he said, his voice pleading. He lifted his hand, wanting to reach for her even though she was across the room. He didn't want her to run. "It's still just me."

But the shock of seeing his face change into something not of this world had stunned her. She couldn't form words, couldn't even form thoughts. She could only feel—and what she felt was terror. Her mind was blank, her body moving on autopilot, sheer instinct—evolutionarily programmed deep in her DNA—propelling her slowly past him and towards the elevator.

No sudden movements.

Remain unassuming.

Do not appear threatening.

Do not take your eyes off him.