Chapter 1
Chloe leads the way from the interrogation room and sighs heavily as Lucifer closes the door firmly, leaving Maze at the interrogation table behind it. They face each other and speak simultaneously:
"Now do you believe me?"
"I believe you."
"Yes."
"I knew she didn't do it." Chloe continues, shaking her head and wondering what her former roommate is up to, confessing to a crime she obviously didn't commit. Maze has been off for weeks… even more so than the self-proclaimed 'demon' usually is, lashing out at all her friends, even Trixie. I wish she'd just really talk to me… I wish Lucifer would just talk to me…. What is it with these two?
"You know what this means, Detective. We need to bust Maze out. Let's smuggle her something she can use to escape." Lucifer starts walking to her desk, snatching up random objects as he goes, though how he intends for Maze to escape a holding cell with Walters' stapler, or Jennings' sub sandwich, she's not sure she wants to know.
"What happened to 'a mere time-out' in women's prison?" she prods acerbically. Honestly, she can't understand how she had come so close to starting—trying to start— a relationship with this man-child, with his complete lack of ability to handle the real world without his ridiculous metaphors. Thank God for Marcus and his reliability. She drags her mind back to the situation at hand, firmly squashing the thoughts that spring up unbidden.
"Well, we can't punish the innocent," he scoffs dismissively, "or even the usually guilty but innocent this one time. It's the principle of the matter. "
"We have to find the real killer." Chloe tries to steer him back to the actually helpful plan. "It's the only way to keep Maze out of jail."
"I hear someone's headed for jail?" Charlotte approaches them eagerly, stopping and glancing up hopefully at Lucifer before speaking to Chloe directly, "I'm ready to draw up the arrest warrant for Mazikeen Smith."
"Hey, hang on. I'll grab my paperwork." Chloe hurries to her desk, considering Charlotte's odd situation as she goes. The woman had told her a while ago that she had indeed been married to Lucifer's father, but she had conveniently "lost" her memory of that, and her recent history of the past several months when she'd awakened on the beach after jumping from the Santa Monica Pier to avoid getting shot.
Everything with Lucifer is so complicated. It's a good thing he ran to Vegas after my poisoning, it made me open my eyes to the huge mistake I nearly made by trying a relationship with him. What a disaster that would have been.
Yeah, Decker. Keep telling yourself that. When he'd reappeared after weeks of silence, she'd felt her heart leap and swell in her chest… right up to the point where he shushed her and his bimbo bride had clumped down the stairs in those over-the-top heels and skin-tight dress. Then her heart had shattered, and she still hadn't been able to find all the pieces.
She scans her desk for the correct file folder and snags it, glancing around for the pair and hurrying after them. As she climbs the stairs, Lucifer's incredulous laughter rumbles quietly from the second level
" 'Stepson'? Right. Yeah. That would've been far preferable, Mum... um..." he stumbles to a halt awkwardly before trying to cover with, "my dear Charlotte."
Chloe had always thought it odd that Lucifer and Amenadiel had both called Charlotte 'Mom' (or, in Lucifer's case, 'Mum'); the woman couldn't be more than a very few years older than either of them. But Lucifer had very carefully only called her Charlotte since her memory loss.
"You said 'Mum'." Chloe knows that tone: that's the big-time attorney pouncing on a witness with an unfortunate choice of phrasing.
"Did I?" he prevaricates, sounding nervous, which piques Chloe's attention. He generally only sounds nervous when he's trying to avoid telling the truth without lying, and Chloe stops on the stairs to listen, trying to figure out why he wouldn't just tell her… it's not like she can't look up the marriage record at City Hall.
"So I was… I was your stepmom?" Charlotte's voice is hushed, disbelieving.
"Well, not anymore," he bursts out, clearly uncomfortable. "Look, it... it's complicated, Charlotte, and I am horribly crunched for time, so..." he turns and tries to walk away to escape the confrontation and Chloe shrinks back, afraid she'll be caught eavesdropping.
"Tell me what you know, and don't lie to me," Charlotte's strident demand spins him to face her again, sighing as his shoulders stiffen at the accusation. She softens her voice so Chloe can hardly hear her next words. "Please, Lucifer. I feel like I'm going crazy."
"Fine." He answers just as quietly after a moment of tense silence, "Fine, I suppose you do deserve to know the truth. Okay, then. No sense dillydallying." Charlotte nods, a relieved smile spreading across her face. Lucifer fidgets with his jacket and exhales heavily before pulling another deep breath. "I really am the Devil. My brother Amenadiel is a former angel. That time you thought you survived being stabbed by your junior associate, you didn't. You died, and your soul went straight to Hell. Your empty body became a—a vessel for my real mum, the Goddess of All Creation, until her celestial light started bursting out of your midsection. Naturally, I sent her to another universe so she wouldn't destroy this one. Once she vacated your body, you, Charlotte, came back to life. All right? There we are. All caught up."
He delivers this clinically, without the slightest hint of sarcasm or facetiousness, no embellishment or any of his typical flamboyance, and Chloe rolls her eyes violently at the man's inability to take anything seriously. Charlotte's face falls and pales, her eyes widening as his 'explanation' continues until finally he chuckles softly. He sighs and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You wanted the truth? Well, there it is. Now, I really, really must be going, because I have an innocent demon in the clink, but... if you have any follow-up questions, please, do feel free to... ask Amenadiel." He huffs a laugh as he turns, and she sees Charlotte swallow hard. Chloe shakes her head at herself – What were you expecting, to actually get some insight from eavesdropping? —and hurries to start moving up the stairs, breathing heavily as though she'd only just caught up to them.
"Hey guys, I've got the paperwork for that warrant…" They move into a conference room and Chloe runs on autopilot as she tries to work out the metaphors regarding what he'd just told Charlotte. She knows Lucifer doesn't lie, but sometimes she wishes she had a decoder ring so she could really work out what the ever-loving hell he's actually trying to say. How does he keep it all straight? I've never once seen him break from them. Every time I think he's about to, it only hurts more when he doesn't. She tries not to think of the time she nearly got through to him in the lab… when she thought he was about to tell her something real… only to realize he was just playing with her—again.
"Detective?" Lucifer prompts her and she snaps back to the present. I just need to get through this case.
After clearing Maze's name of all suspicion, Chloe had met Marcus in the parking garage where she'd removed her necklace—Lucifer's gift—and accepted a ride home from Marcus on his motorcycle, with Lucifer looking sadly on as they'd passed by with her clinging tightly to him. She'd lifted her fingers in a tentative wave, but he hadn't acknowledged the gesture in any way, merely turning dejectedly to his Corvette instead.
Which is why she finds herself here at Lux, instead of at home enjoying a drink with Marcus. She hadn't let him walk her to her door, merely climbed off the bike and returned his helmet with a kiss, thanking him for the ride before she retreated to her apartment and ordered an Uber to come here, to talk to her partner. They need to tranquilize the elephant in the room before it stampedes over them both, and she intends to do so tonight. Lux is closed for the evening, but just like the penthouse, Lux's doors are never locked. She walks in the front, but as she enters the terrace from the street level, she hears Lucifer's low voice and stops as she registers the hesitance in his tone.
"Brother, are you sure?" Lucifer and Amenadiel are standing near the winding staircase nearest her, which is the only reason she can hear the whispered conversation. "I mean, the old you would never have been okay with this." She freezes in the obscuring shadows of the second level, waiting to see what might unfold.
"I don't think we have much of a choice," Amenadiel mutters back. Lucifer glances at him, tilting his head in doubt before closing the distance between the two brothers and the blonde woman across the room—and Chloe still doesn't quite understand how exactly they're brothers, with so very many differences (not the least of which is Lucifer's very pronounced accent), even if they do act every bit the siblings they claim to be.
"Charlotte. Do you have a minute?" He approaches her carefully, as though she's a wild animal that could spook and flee at any moment.
"Sure," the blonde woman nursing a drink at the bar laughs quietly, and Chloe realizes it's Charlotte Richards. She continues in a sing-song cadence, "Just getting ready to check myself into the loony bin."
"Charlotte, listen," Amenadiel begins tentatively. Chloe edges forward so she can see them better; Amenadiel's arms are crossed tightly and his hands can't keep still, fidgeting with the sleeves of his olive-colored hoodie. "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have told you what I did."
"Yes," Lucifer agrees quickly, before adding in capitulation, "And, well, I suppose that I didn't help things either. So we are here to make things right."
"Now, we can't undo what we've already done, but maybe we can help you move forward." Charlotte glances at Amenadiel with doubt in her eyes, but stands from her stool and leans against the bar, a skeptical look on her face. Chloe thinks to herself that she's never seen the woman this upset, and that includes when she'd approached her on the beach at Santa Monica after she'd just supposedly found out she'd lost a huge chunk of her recent memories.
"Last chance to change your mind, brother. Going once, going twice..." Chloe registers the hope draining from Lucifer's quiet voice with each word until Amenadiel nods at him and he pulls in a tense breath and redirects his regard to Charlotte. "Fair enough. You, um, you may want to sit down again."
"Nah," Charlotte denies distantly, chuckling, "At this point, things can't get any crazier."
"You'd think." Lucifer backs a good distance away, giving Chloe a perfect view of him, and huffs an anxious laugh. He pulls in a wavering breath, and in the face of his naked fear Chloe suddenly feels an urge to back away, feeling like an intruder on a private moment. Her curiosity gets the better of her, though—she can't lose the chance of finding out something real about this man that's wormed his way into her… her life, even if it's something he may not want her to know. Her eyes lock on his tense form as she waits.
"Okay." He clears his throat and sighs, and rolls his shoulders… there's a sound of air displacement and he's suddenly framed by two enormous, gorgeously white wings. The bright lights of the club seem to coalesce around him, providing him with a halo of luminescence.
How did he get them back? Chloe wonders distantly as she stares at him in awe, He didn't have the provenances for the FBI to release them to him—did he have another set made? Wait… where did they come from? He's wearing a suit, and they certainly weren't there a minute ago.
"Oh, no, Luci. We've broken her." Amenadiel sounds on the verge of panic, but Lucifer stands stock still, merely holding up a finger in a 'wait' gesture. He keeps the wings spread, their total length easily spanning 25 feet, and Chloe notices that they move slightly as his chest expands and contracts with his breathing. His wings. Those are his wings. Oh my God, Lucifer really does have wings—he really is…
"Charlotte?" His voice is infinitely gentle, and it calms her rising panic a little. "Are you okay?"
"It's... it's real." She exhales jaggedly, and she nearly sobs the words. Lucifer's expression is tender as he gives a slight nod, and Chloe can see the sparkle of tears in the attorney's eyes as she laughs in relief. "Then that means I'm... I'm not crazy."
It's all true. It's all true. Lucifer's the devil, Amenadiel's an angel, they're sons-of-freaking-GOD.
"It's all real, darling," Lucifer murmurs, unconsciously echoing her own thoughts, "I haven't lied to you, it's something that I simply don't do. And I'm so very sorry that you've gotten wrapped up in all this… this family drama."
"You don't understand," Charlotte gushes, rushing across the room to Chloe's winged partner… the Devil. She throws her arms around him and squeezes, and Lucifer's arms pop up in that familiar way they always do when he's ambushed with a hug he's not expecting. The mundane familiarity of that posture from his many run-ins with Ella eases Chloe's burgeoning anxiety just a little. "I'm not crazy!"
"Yes, of course, Charlotte," he reassures her quietly, bringing his hands up to pat her back stiltedly. "We've covered that, you're not crazy, you've only bounced back from Hell after your body played host to the Goddess of All Creation for a few months. Absolutely no hint of craziness here, I promise." Charlotte buries her head against his shoulder and her body shakes with a sob, and Chloe hears Lucifer mutter, "Oh, bloody Hell. Brother, a little help here?"
Chloe's mind spins circles, trying to simultaneously freeze and speed off at a thousand miles an hour to re-examine every single thing she remembers Lucifer telling her in the two years she's known him. Amenadiel approaches the pair, but Charlotte clings to Lucifer more tightly. Chloe can hear her murmuring against his shoulder, "Thank you, thank you for showing me, thank you for helping me, I don't know what I would have done—"
"It's quite all right Charlotte," he sighs and wraps her more fully within his arms, pulling her into a real embrace and Chloe spares a moment to recall when he'd done the same for her, when she was crying over her father in her kitchen. With Charlotte, though, Lucifer's wings also wrap around her, obscuring both of them until all that can be seen is the darkness of Lucifer's bowed head as he continues to whisper into her ear, and the slightest hint of Charlotte's blond hair peeping from the leading curve of the slightly pearlescent wings at his shoulder.
Finally, he steps back from the embrace and folds his wings away, freeing Chloe from her paralysis. She backs further into the shadows to remain unseen, and retreats back out to the street. She manages to summon an Uber and make it back to her apartment before succumbing to the inevitable breakdown.
Chloe is incredibly glad that Trixie's with Dan for the entire weekend, and that she'd already had the next couple of days scheduled off work. She makes an excuse of the stomach flu to Marcus so she can focus, and she holes herself up in her apartment with her laptop and a string of keywords to search.
A day and a half later, all she has are a million vastly differing accounts and a boatload of dissatisfaction.
According to the internet, Lucifer could be anything from absolute evil incarnate to the totally innocent and misrepresented victim of the winners—Heaven— re-writing history to suit themselves. She briefly considers going to the Church, but then she recalls all the disparaging things Lucifer has said about churches and priests in general… and she can't help but acknowledge that the animosity there is most definitely mutual. She finds herself wishing that Father Frank was still alive—she has a feeling he'd have some good points to consider.
Okay Decker, what now? If this were a case, you'd talk to witnesses. She can't talk to Lucifer, obviously, and Amenadiel is out for the same reason. Ella. I can talk to Ella, and she's got a really open mind with her religion… I bet she'd have some good insights. Linda? Maybe. Would she be compelled to tell Lucifer I was asking these kinds of questions? I can ask… Maze is out, with her recent more-unpredictable-than-usual history and with her outright anger toward Lucifer… Oh God, Maze is an actual demon. They've all been telling the absolute truth this entire time.
She suddenly recalls a conversation with Amenadiel after Malcolm had kidnapped Trixie, and her face flushes with anger.
Bulletproof vest and bloodpacks, my ass, she thinks to herself furiously. Seriously? The Devil tells nothing but the truth and the angel is the liar? I guess that might give me a clue as to the lack of veracity the church is likely to have…
She texts Ella to see if she's free for a discussion, and starts to compile a mental list of all the questions she comes up with, or things she's observed, or can remember Lucifer mentioning about his… Luciferness.
He's Immortal
Is he really evil?
Powers don't affect me? What powers? Mojo? Strength? What else?
Says he didn't bleed, but does now?
Doesn't get along with God
Not responsible for sins?
He doesn't lie—does he?
Huge scars on back—wings cut off? But wings are back…
Supports me and trusts my judgment
Terrified of Trixie
Did Malcolm really kill him?
Wouldn't leave me behind when that bomb was armed, took a knife for me
Ran off to Vegas after saving me from poison?
What was the deal with that car accident he was so worried about?
She thinks there must be more, but these are the things come to mind while she's waiting. Her phone chimes, and Chloe breathes a sigh of relief when it's Ella confirming she's free to talk. Lucifer's texted her several times this weekend—not unusual for him, but she hasn't read them or responded. With any luck he'll assume I'm with Marcus. That would at least ensure he didn't just turn up unannounced.
Chloe orders Chinese food while she waits for Ella, and opens a bottle of wine. She pretends she doesn't think about what Lucifer would say about her $5 bottle of cabernet.
Chloe is tipping the delivery girl when Ella's Uber pulls up and she bounces out of the back seat, chirping thanks to her driver.
"Hey Chloe!" she grins as she strides up the walk and Chloe can't help but smile back, despite her anxiety. Something about Ella just makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. "It's not very often I get a last-minute invite from you—not that I mind! I was actually relieved that I had an excuse to leave, Ricardo was about to make me watch yet another Fast & Furious movie, so I've gotta thank you for the save."
"I know," Chloe grimaces, "I'm not very good at spontaneity, but I was really hoping to pick your brain."
"Is this about a case?" Ella's eyebrows contract, and a scolding finger comes up underneath Chloe's nose, "because I am not cool with you working on your days off. Work-life balance, my friend—it's necessary."
"It's not about a case," Chloe reassures her quickly, and the accusatory finger withdraws a little, "It's… kind of about Lucifer."
"Lucifer?" Ella's crinkled eyebrows now shoot halfway up her forehead in surprise as she enters the apartment, "Is he okay?"
"He's fine! I just… you know how he always talks in metaphors…"
"That dude is a helluva method actor, and that pun is totally intended." Ella chuckles at her own wit, and Chloe laughs weakly along with her.
"I was thinking that… I might be able to communicate with him better if I was more familiar with his source material, you know?" Chloe spins her cover story, hoping it'll sound believable to Ella. "But his take seems so different from most churches I'm familiar with, I was hoping you might have a little more open interpretation… you know, if you'd help me."
"Girl, anything that gets my A-Team back to normal, I am more than game for," Ella cheers, and Chloe tilts her head in confusion.
"Back to normal?" Chloe parrots, and Ella's eyes widen at her misstep. "Why, would you say we… haven't been normal?"
"Chloe, you guys'll be fine," Ella rushes to say, "I mean, I totally support you going for Pierce—those arms are really something, he's such a sweetie, and his police work is top shelf! And once things settle down—"
"Ella, what are you talking about?"
"Um… nothing?" The shorter woman is leaning back and anxiously eyeballing the threatening packet of chopsticks Chloe has leveled at her. "Nothing at all… why… what were, uh, you talking about?"
"Nope," Chloe withdraws the chopsticks and starts unpacking the food containers, but doesn't take her gaze off Ella's nervous face. "Spill."
"It's just… after the Axara concert, Lucifer seemed a little down every time he'd see you with Pierce. And we'd talk about it a little, you know? And then, at the beach with this last victim when you admitted to dating him—" Ella swallows, but manages to meet Chloe's eyes steadily. "The guy is totes head over heels for you, Chloe. I know you're with Pierce now, but you're gonna need to be gentle with him. He's hurting."
"He's hurting?" Chloe's voice comes out louder than she intended, and she clears her throat. He's the Devil. He's slept with ¾ of LA. He's definitely not hurting just because I'm in a relationship. She takes a deep breath before she continues, "Ella, he's the one that ran, and came back married."
"Yeah, I kinda asked him about that," Ella admits shyly. "He said something about… he needed her to help get information from his Mom? And something else about protecting you, but I didn't really understand what he meant."
"Do you remember what he did say?" Chloe pries shamelessly. She tells herself that—personally— she doesn't really care why, she's well past her unwise feelings for Lucifer and is perfectly happy with Marcus… but it might help her understand more about this whole Devil thing, which can only help their partnership. At work, of course.
"Hmmm, gimme a minute to think," Ella snags a container of chicken fried rice and digs around in it with her chopsticks, brow furrowed as she tries to remember the conversation from a couple months ago. "Nah, I can't remember the exact phrasing, but basically he went to Vegas because he found out something about you, that made him sure that whatever you guys have together wasn't real. He met Candy when she stole some stuff from him, and they wound up talking about their troubles, and decided to help each other out."
"He found out something about me?" Chloe asks, baffled.
"Yeah, I didn't quite follow that part, something about his dad putting you in his path and messing around with your feelings." Ella shrugs, "Sorry, Chlo', we were in Vegas and I've slept since then."
"When did you go to Vegas with—" an idea occurs to her. "My birthday. You both went to Vegas on my birthday, didn't you?" Her hand goes up to grasp her bullet necklace before she remembers she took it off for Marcus, and her fingers caress her collarbone where it normally rests instead. Okay, so he ran because he thought his Dad… God?...Oh Jesus, I'm never going to get used to this… was messing with our—my— feelings? Can He do that? She doesn't know, and that worries her a little.
"But anyway, that's not what you wanted to talk about, sorry. You wanted to talk about Lucifer's interpretation of the Devil, yeah?" Ella offers hopefully.
Chloe sighs, considering. She really wants to know what Ella knows about Lucifer's motives in Vegas, and also anything else that he's said about her specifically… but she's past all that now, and she needs to stick to the current plan: Find out about the Devil she knows. Or, more accurately, doesn't know.
"Yeah, you're right," she concedes, and Ella tries to hide a small sigh of relief. "Okay, so, maybe you can start with anything specific you've noticed Lucifer saying that differs from what the church teaches? And I'd really appreciate your thoughts on the matter, too."
"Whew, that's a broad spectrum, Chloe," Ella whistles appreciatively. "I'm probably not gonna be able to give you a dissertation today. Question, though—why don't you just ask Lucifer? He'd be happy to go over it with you, I'm sure. He's always been open to talking about it with me, and he loves—uh, talking with you just as much."
Chloe lifts an eyebrow at her friend, who blinks back at her with innocent brown eyes. "I plan to talk to him about this eventually, but I'd like to go in a little fore-armed."
"Ahhh, presearch. Gotcha."
"Presearch?"
"Yeah, you know, pre-research?" Ella giggles, and Chloe rolls her eyes. "Oh, c'mon, you know that was funny. Fine. Let's see… when I first met you guys it was that case with that stand-in with the rebar horns planted in her skull and we talked about how the devil gets a bad rap…"
Their chat goes on late into the evening, and while Chloe takes notes, she feels like the more she learns, the more questions she has. Finally, Ella looses an enormous yawn in the middle of an explanation of the Original Sin.
"Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry, it's after 11—I really didn't mean to keep you so late."
"Nah, no worries—it's actually kinda neat – like a Bible study course but without the judginess. I had fun!" Ella pats her shoulder as she gathers her bag and pulls out her phone.
"You know, I don't want you to have to take a rideshare home at this hour… let me drive you. Or do you want to stay the night? I've got a spare room…"
"Welllll…" Ella considers for a moment. "You drank just as much wine as I did. Bob'll be fine for the night, so I guess I can stay. Ooo! I can make waffles in the morning!"
Chloe laughs at her irrepressible friend. "Whatever you want, Ella. C'mon, it's past my bedtime too. I'll show you to your room."
Despite her mental exhaustion, Chloe lays awake for a long time that night, trying to fit together the pieces of the drunken jigsaw puzzle that is her partner. A few things make more sense when she accepts that he is not, after all, human. The confessions he's drawn from people, for one. His incredible strength. His astonishing tolerance with illicit substances. His complete lack of understanding of human emotions aside from desire. The way people seem to fawn over him… except for me. But she had, kind of… eventually. Hadn't she? If God really was messing with my feelings… wouldn't I have been head-over-heels for him from the beginning?
She considers the time she went to Lucifer, drunk, when Dan had broken up with her via text. She'd been angling to sleep with him then—and he hadn't acted on it. Had even barely teased her about it the next morning. She remembers the labored sounds of his breathing echoing around that hangar after Malcolm had shot him, and was hunting her. The words she couldn't quite make out, but had the cadence of a plea. What was he asking for? Who was he talking to? She remembers his impassioned defense of the content editors on the Wobble case—
"No one chooses to be a sin-eater, Detective. No one wants to be custodian of the world's filth. Why would they? Absorbing the worst humanity has to offer, day in and day out. It changes you… People don't arrive broken. They start with passion and yearning till something comes along that disabuses them of those notions."
She remembers his panicky, way over-the-top concern for her safety after her car accident, and the desolation in his voice when he'd practically begged that sniper to shoot him only a few days later. His staunch attempt at supporting her during the Joe Fields/Perry Smith case. She replays the conversation she'd heard between Lucifer and Charlotte at the precinct.
If Charlotte wasn't Charlotte then… if that really was his mom in the courtroom… what was she trying to prove? She wanted me to call Lucifer a liar. Ella said his dad had put me in his path, and he would have found out about that not too long after… I wonder if those situations are related?
She groans into her pillow in frustration. Everything I learn only brings up more questions! She briefly considers just picking up the phone and calling Lucifer.
"I've never lied to you, and I will never lie to you."
But what if that was a lie? She huffs a breath and rolls over, facing the middle of her bed and curling into a ball under her covers. At least she won't have to deal with Lucifer at work tomorrow— It's not unheard of for her to handle a case or two alone after a particularly intense one, and Marcus won't mind if she doesn't call him in.
I've got time to think this through, and figure out what to do.
Chapter 2
Chloe's morning has gotten off to a miserable start. Ella had left before she'd even woken up, leaving a note that she needed to head home for a shower and change before work, and Chloe had gotten ready for work while trying not to think about yesterday's world-altering revelations.
Then, as she was approaching her desk, Marcus had called her aside, and… she can't believe that she'd actually had sex with Marcus in the evidence closet—she'd chastised Lucifer for that very thing so many times early in their partnership, and now here she was, following the devil's lead.
Then Marcus had not only decided to accompany her on her assigned case, but also ordered her to call Lucifer in despite her protests, due to a witness claiming an angel was involved, of all things.
Lucifer had met her at the scene with a delighted, "Look at that. It's always nice to start the day nose to nose, isn't it? Speaking of, you'll never guess what happened to me last night, Detective…" His cheer had melted away when Marcus had stepped out of the passenger side and interrupted him, and Chloe had lost the thread of their conversation by having a minor panic moment at coming nose-to-nose with the actual Devil far sooner than she'd planned.
"Will he be coming with you from now on?" Lucifer asks her in an aside, "Because he is killing our banter."
"Absolutely not, no. Pierce and I only came..." Oh God, no… new word... USE A DIFFERENT WORD. She can't look him in the eye, and alternates between looking off to one side and squeezing her eyes shut as she waves her index finger in front of her awkwardly, "Drove together just this one time. One time." She clears her throat.
"Right…" he draws out the word, looking at her strangely. She sees the moment when he notices that she's no longer wearing her necklace, the flash of hurt in his eyes quickly buried by annoyance as Marcus comes up behind him and claps him on the shoulder.
"Apparently... the victim's from a well-connected family. The suits downtown want me to keep them in the loop. Don't worry, I won't interfere with the investigation, or the, uh, dream team." He places a heavy hand on Chloe's shoulder and instead of feeling a thrill of connection, she feels an unpleasant chill. It feels… proprietary. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Okay. Shall we?" She clears her throat again as Marcus walks away, and she starts off in the opposite direction past Lucifer, who gently catches the elbow of her jacket.
"Uh... you have DNA on your shirt."
"What?" She gasps, frantically searching until he reaches out and pulls a piece of an evidence sticker from the hemline of her blouse. She sighs with a little too much relief and laughs clumsily. "Oh... um... Oh, weird."
She hurries away with Lucifer gazing suspiciously after her, and goes to find Ella photographing the body, which only gets more uncomfortable when she's reminded that Ella's lab shares a wall with the evidence closet… the same wall that she and Marcus had…
Focus on the case, Decker. They interview the witness, who does indeed insist that an angel saved her from the gunman that had killed Kevin Winstead. Lucifer had laughed off the possibility, muttering something about lending Gabriel money under his breath. Marcus approaches and Chloe retreats from both of them, opting to do a final sweep of the scene, leaving them with an attempt at a joke—
"Hey, maybe it was one of your brothers." Lucifer's sigh stutters as she walks away, and she hears Marcus' low voice ring out.
"Seriously, is it one of your brothers?" He sounds completely sincere, and the chill that she'd felt when Marcus had touched her shoulder now crawls down her back. Does Marcus know about Lucifer, or is he only pretending to play into his delusions?
"Preposterous. My father doesn't send my siblings down to intervene in petty robberies in Pacoima." Lucifer spits as his phone rings and he fumbles it out of his pocket. "He only sends them to harass me. Oh, and speaking of..."
Chloe leans against the wall in the next room, out of sight and tries to consider what it means if Marcus does know about Lucifer. Did Lucifer show him, too? How long has he known? She'd known they'd had… something together, Lucifer had been very interested in the Lieutenant before Marcus had really started pursuing Chloe… Maybe I can talk to Marcus about what Lucifer is.
She invites him over to her apartment that afternoon to talk, but as soon as he's through the door his lips are on hers and she's swept away again into a lust-driven haze—this time at least, in the privacy of her living room.
Some time later, they're sitting panting on the floor as they recover—it had happened so quickly they hadn't even undressed, again—when Chloe realizes that Trixie and her sitter will be home any minute and panics, moving him toward the door.
There's a moment of unease, a small yellow—or possibly red—flag when Marcus seems angry, starts to argue when she balks at introducing him to Trixie, where he suddenly looms larger over her… but he settles again quickly into his normal sweet disposition. Then a text from Lucifer about the case sends her haring off to meet him instead. She feels like a volleyball being bounced between the two, and she's increasingly worried about getting spiked into the sand.
If he's shown Charlotte, and maybe Marcus… why hasn't he shown me?
"Hey, what was that about?" They're walking out to the Corvette from the Sunrise Sands rehab facility. She's a little reluctant to have this discussion, but Lucifer seems to be spiraling around the possibility that he might be the angel that the witness claims to have seen. How could he not know?
"It's nothing." He stops and turns to face her from the other side of the car.
"That was not nothing. Talk to me." Tell me something, Lucifer, please. He takes a step back toward her.
"Look, I just haven't been sleeping well. That's all... but never mind that, what's next?" He glances back toward the car, eager to get moving.
"What's next is you take the afternoon off. Get some rest." Give me some space to try to figure out how to handle all this… literal Luciferness.
"What? I'd rather go and find the killer." He approaches the passenger side door, preparing to open it for her to climb inside.
"It's not a suggestion, Lucifer. Look, I'm gonna spend the rest of the day poring through Kevin's file, trying to figure out who his family is. We probably won't know anything until tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow?" his brow creases in concern, and his deep brown eyes plead with her for a different answer.
"Go home. You're tired." And I'm not ready to have you nearby until I've had more time to think.
"Okay, fine. But," he leans in swiftly, and she freezes in surprise as his hand brushes against her hip, coming away with her handcuffs, "only if I can borrow these." Confusion crosses her face. "Well, I promise I'll bring them back."
"Please don't." she tells him, adding under her breath, "Ew."
He drops her back at the precinct with barely another word between them, and she doesn't hear from him at all until early the next morning when he arrives at her desk, even more agitated than the day before. She gives in and takes him with her to interview the victim's ex-girlfriend, where they manage to obtain some maybe-useful information in the form of Kevin owing money to a possible drug dealer.
Back at the precinct, Lucifer is pacing restlessly behind her as she searches the database for information on Kevin's dealer. Chloe finds her apprehension at working with the devil waning in favor of her exasperation of working with her partner as she tries to settle him down.
"Look… getting a hit, it might take some time. So why don't you go home, get some sleep and..."
He sighs and paces back toward her, leaning down to murmur, "I can't."
"Why?" She whispers dramatically back. She turns and finds him closer than she expected, so she whips back to her computer for a second to recover before facing him again.
"Because," he continues earnestly, and she finds herself leaning forward to listen more closely, "if I am this Angel of San Bernardino, and I go to sleep, then I might do it again."
"Lucifer…" she sighs, exasperated, "why are you so determined to prove this angel wasn't you? Afraid of the Devil getting some good press for once?"
"Detective," his voice wavers and her eyes flick up unwillingly to meet his. She notices stress lines that hadn't been there a few days ago as he replies quietly, "If it is me, then my father is manipulating me to act like an angel in my sleep. I refuse to have anything to do with his manipulations… so I must know!"
"Okay, well, just don't sleep then." She forces the joke as she transfers her gaze on her monitor. Please just go…
"Hold on," he breathes in relief, "That is an excellent plan, Detective. I'll just never sleep again!" She can hear the smile in his voice as he bustles around her desk toward the stairs with a breezy, "Text me when you have news, Detective!"
She watches her manic partner worriedly as he ascends the stairs with a jaunty bounce to his step even as she breathes a sigh of relief as the Devil retreats from her vicinity.
As her queries about the dealer come to nothing, she uses her time to have more conversations with Ella about devil lore vs "theoretical" reality when applied to Lucifer. Finally, after three days of blissful silence and distance from Lucifer, during which she tells herself that she hasn't worried about his complete radio silence at all, she texts Linda and asks to meet up for a conversation.
"Chloe!" Linda grins as she opens the door to her anxiously fidgeting friend. "How have you been? Come in! Red or white?"
"Um, whatever you're having is fine," Chloe replies distractedly as she crosses the threshold into the neat living room. Linda gestures to the sofa and crosses the room to pour two glasses of a pale white wine before presenting one to Chloe and seating herself nearby.
"So what brings you to my humble abode mid-week?" Linda asks lightly, accurately reading Chloe's agitation.
"Well," Chloe takes a sip of her wine, stalling for time to frame her scattered thoughts. "I… wanted to talk to you about, um, Lucifer."
"I'm happy to listen, Chloe, but you know I can't discuss anything we talk about in our sessions," Linda sits up straighter and sets her glass down, gazing at her friend in concern.
"No, I know that Linda, but… I don't know who else to ask and," she sighs deeply, eyes fluttering closed as a tear tracks down her cheek, "I think you might be the only one that can help me."
"Why don't you tell me what's on your mind?" Linda's voice is serious now that Chloe's turmoil is more evident. Lucifer hasn't indicated that anything's gone wrong recently, aside from his nightmares and potential sleep-flying… what could have happened that has Chloe so upset?
"I… don't…" Chloe's eyes flutter open and they're rimmed with red. "I don't want you to think I'm crazy."
"You're not crazy, Chloe," Linda reassures her readily. "It's all right, totally safe space here. Just tell me what's got you so upset."
"I—I think Lucifer might actually be telling the truth?" She phrases it as a question, but deliberately leaves it open for Linda's interpretation. Her friend's eyes widen a little, and she leans into the armrest of the couch behind her.
"About what?" Linda asks carefully.
"That… um…" Chloe can't force herself to say the words, but makes little flappy wing motions with her hands instead.
"Wait… you—you know?" Linda stammers, her voice suddenly an octave higher than usual. "Did he show you? What did he tell you?"
"You know!?" Chloe accuses, shocked not at Linda's surprise, but at the direction her surprise had taken. "How long have you known?"
"Okay, wait," Linda holds up her hands in a patting, 'settle down' motion. "Let's clarify exactly what we're talking about here, before we really get our signals crossed." Chloe looks back at her apprehensively. "Okay… together then? On three?" Her friend nods in relief, and she counts them in.
"One. Two. Three…"
"Lucifer's the devil."
They say the words in complete tandem, then stare at each other in wide-eyed awe.
"Oh my God, you do know!" Linda exclaims shrilly. "And… are you okay? How did you find out?"
Chloe opens her mouth, but no words escape and she swallows hard, more tears chasing the first down her cheeks.
"I mean… he tells you all the time, but you've never shown any inclination of believing him before. I only ask because Lucifer hasn't called me in a panic, so I assume he didn't outright tell you, and… Oh, Chloe, come here…" Chloe had dropped her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking with small sobs and Linda gathers her into a soothing embrace. "How long have you been trying to deal with this all alone?"
"Uh… not quite a week?" she shivers in her friend's arms and works to get herself back under control. "I've been trying to distance myself from him while I think it through, but I just keep thinking of more questions, and I can't just… ask him."
"Why don't you tell me how you figured it out, Chloe?" Linda suggests gently, rubbing her shoulders gently.
"I, um… I went to Lux last week to talk to him, because things had been… uncomfortable between us since I started dating Marcus, and I wanted to see if we could clear it up a little." Linda nods encouragingly, and she continues with a little more confidence. "The club was closed, but of course the doors were unlocked so I went in, and… Amenadiel was there… and Charlotte Richards—she's an attorney—"
"I'm familiar with Ms. Richards," Linda supplies, and Chloe nods.
"I was up on the second tier and heard Lucifer talking to Amenadiel and he sounded worried, so I stopped… and… um, he showed her his wings."
"You saw his wings," Linda breathes, and she seems relieved. "You haven't talked to him about it though? That you know?"
"I want to know as much as possible before I confront him with it," Chloe sniffles, pulling out of the hug. "I mean, I've been thinking about everything I can remember him telling me since I've known him, and I haven't been able to spot a lie yet, but… he's the devil, Linda! How long have you known?"
"I've known for awhile now, almost a year," the other woman admits, and Chloe's eyes widen in shock. "I didn't take it well at first—you're doing much better than I did— but Maze eventually helped me get past my fears."
Chloe vaguely remembers an exchange between Lucifer and Maze in her kitchen, not long after he'd tried to get himself killed by that sniper.
"Thanks to you, I lost my friend." Maze had accused him as she was sitting at the bar in their kitchen.
"Friend?" Lucifer had scoffed, "What friend?"
"The doctor." She'd glared at him as though the answer was obvious.
"I was just working through some stuff. I didn't think that showing..."
"So what, did he just pop his wings out in your office?" Chloe muses, curious.
"Mmm, something like that," Linda hems a bit. "I thought he was still speaking in metaphors and basically told him I couldn't help him if he wouldn't tell me the whole truth… I didn't know that he had been telling me the truth the entire time until he showed me. But really, how are you taking it? I know it's a lot…"
"It is a lot!" Chloe nods, a little too fast and too long for someone with both mental feet securely on the floor. "I've been talking with Ella, because she has a really open view of religion, and… and I thought the church might be a little biased."
"Hoo boy, you're not kidding there!" Linda laughs, and it's a real one, from deep in her belly. "It's not just the church, though, even his family… ahem." She catches herself before she can go too far with that revelation, her face coloring with embarrassment. "Sorry, it's just… it's a bit of a relief to have another human to talk to about this. Though it sounds like Charlotte is in the know now, too?"
"Yeah," Chloe nods again, a little slower this time. "She was so relieved, she said because she thought she was going crazy. She ran right up to Lucifer and hugged him, wings and all!"
"How did he react?" Linda asks curiously.
"Have you ever seen him react to a hug?" a small smile crosses her face.
"Erm, no, I can't say that I have."
"He just… freezes up. He stands up straight and his hands pop up and out like he doesn't know what he's supposed to do with them," she laughs softly, shaking her head. "It's actually kind of adorable. I've never understood how someone so comfortable with sex could be so… skittish with casual affection."
"Think about it for a second with your new knowledge, and I think you'll find your answer." Linda encourages quietly, her face now somber. "How often in his—very long—life do you think the devil has been offered casual affection?"
The smile slides off Chloe's face as she considers this. "You know, I used to just think that he'd had a rough childhood—distant parents, maybe some bullying siblings. Maybe abuse, with those horrible scars on his back. Maybe…" she drifts off on that thought for a moment until Linda brings her back with a gentle prod.
"Maybe?"
"Maybe I wasn't wrong, just… on a bigger scale?" Linda's eyes are warm, and Chloe feels as though she's struck on something here. "I mean, he's definitely got the temptation thing down, with the sex and charm and his mojo… I can see where those stories come from, but… Linda… I don't think he's evil."
"I would agree with you on that, Chloe," Linda concurs quietly, finally picking up her glass again and taking a sip. Chloe does the same. "If he was evil, I wouldn't still be seeing him as a patient, let alone consider him a friend."
"You really do?" Chloe asks plaintively, "Even knowing… what we know?"
"I truly do," Linda nods heavily. "I said the same thing to my ex-husband when he came barreling into my office and shot Lucifer on my couch… he's a good man."
"He shot him?" Chloe gasps, "When? Did he miss? He hasn't missed any work, or…"
"It didn't hurt him, he's invulnerable."
"Well, except… he's not anymore…" Chloe trails off at Linda's closed expression. "Right?"
"I can't answer that, Chloe, I'm sorry." Linda does look sorry, but Chloe accepts that she can't breach her patient's privacy. She opts for a change of subject, instead. "So… if you don't think he's evil, then what brings you here today?"
"I just… Linda, it's so much!" Chloe puffs a heavy sigh through pursed lips, trying to articulate the continuous explosion occurring in her mind. "The devil is here in LA, working with the LAPD to track down murderers. He's my partner. He's an OCD neat-freak with zero filter from thoughts to lips that steals my ex-husband's pudding snacks from the precinct fridge! He's completely emotionally unaware. I… I'm pretty sure he's saved my life at least once—probably more, honestly. My daughter loves him and he's terrified of her, but now I'm terrified that I'm a horrible mother because the devil and a demon are her best friends. He's my best friend… I almost started a relationship with Satan, Linda. I kissed him! I thought I was f… I mean… there's so much more, but it just keeps hitting me and… how do I deal with this?"
"Well…" Linda offers slowly, thinking through her words very carefully. "I think you should talk with him, if or when you're ready to learn the real answers to your questions."
"If?" Chloe tilts her head curiously.
"You have the option to walk away from all this, Chloe," Linda supplies gently, "I know Lucifer would tell you the same. I know it's a lot to take in, and you're worried about what it all means, and about Trixie as well."
"I can't just run away from my life here, Linda," Chloe protests. "LA is my home, it's Trixie's home. My job is here… my friends are here."
"If Lucifer thought you were afraid of him, he would leave for you," Linda's tone is utterly certain. Chloe thinks about that for a moment. She remembers Lucifer's impassioned speech about Lux when he was in danger of losing it to a greedy developer. She remembers the incredulous joy on his face when she presented him with the paperwork declaring Lux a landmark historical site.
"Detective, you… you saved my home!"
"LA is his home, too," she shakes her head, unable—unwilling— to imagine him anywhere else, anywhere other than playing, singing, and dancing at Lux, standing at the bar with his elegant accoutrements surrounding him as she steps off the elevator with his signature cadence of "Detective!". Her throat closes up at even just the thought of him leaving LA, leaving her—recalling white sheets and an echoingly empty penthouse. "No. No, Linda, he belongs here. I would never ask that of him."
"Then," Linda smiles warmly, as though she approves of Chloe's answer, "LA is a big city. I suppose what it comes down to is… do you want him in your life, or not?"
A few days later she finally gets a lead she can chase. She picks up her phone three separate times before she finally decides a text to Lucifer will suffice – she tells herself that she doesn't want to bother him if he's sleeping, or busy—then settles in a conference room with her laptop to review the footage she'd been sent.
When her phone rings a few minutes later she jumps nervously, and when she glances at the caller ID, the anxiety doesn't abate. She argues with herself about letting it go to voicemail, but her finger slips and hits the accept button, so she goes with it.
"Hey Maze," she works to keep her voice casual, "Haven't heard from you in a while, what's up?"
"Well, you know," her ex-roommate (Ex-roomdemon?) purrs, "been on some pretty intense bounties lately, and, uh, we didn't exactly leave things on the best of terms, so I thought I'd keep my distance for a while, let you cool down and all."
"Look, I'm glad you called." It is good to hear Maze's voice, but something in it doesn't sound quite… right. Is it because I know she's a demon now? "Um, but it's just gonna take some time. I'm still upset, and so is Trixie."
"I know," Maze responds, a little too quickly, a little too smoothly. "I'm fine to take it at whatever pace you need me to. Fast or slow. Whatever it takes."
Chloe's blood stands still. "Wait, what did you say?"
" 'Fast or slow'. Why?" Alarm bells are ringing in Chloe's head, and she's flashing back to her little yellow/red flag moment with Marcus last week…
"Listen, fast or slow, whatever the speed, I'm into this. If you haven't figured it out, Chloe, I'm in... I like you."
"It just..." she snaps herself out of the memory, "nothing. Reminds me of something someone else said."
"Well, if you go by someone else's pace, it shows how much you really care."
"That's... incredibly insightful." And very much not Maze. Something is going on here. If Marcus knows about Lucifer, then it's very likely he knows Maze as well, and if that's the case…
"I learned it from sex." She says smugly, and Chloe stifles a smile despite her new worries.
"That's… more you. All right, well, thanks, Maze." The demon disconnects the call and Chloe turns back to her laptop just as Lucifer materializes at her side.
"I got your text," he blurts as she flinches at his sudden appearance. He leans on the table, hovering beside her in a state of disarray she hasn't seen since… since the sniper case. Her heart stutters a little at the comparison, but it's accurate save for the fact that Lucifer seems more manic than depressive for this case. She buys herself a moment to compose herself by exhaling heavily and demanding sharply, with all the concern she definitely hasn't felt for him,
"Where have you been all week?"
He gazes at her blankly. "Has it been a week?" He sounds sincerely surprised that so much time has passed and huffs a sigh as he pulls a chair over to collapse into.
"Yes," She looks more closely at him and the more she sees, the more real her concern becomes. His hair is disheveled, trousers and jacket wrinkled. His pocket square is hanging messily, half out of the pocket itself like a flag waving in defeat. "Um, hey, are you… okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." He blows a puff of air, waving off her query. "Fine. Rough night, juice cleanse. So what have we got, Booth?"
"Booth?" Lucifer launches into a tangent about his new favorite show, and Chloe watches him worriedly. I've never even seen a TV in Lucifer's apartment—what on Earth is going on? He prattles on as she loses herself in her concern for a moment before she finally pulls herself back to the present.
"... And the coccyx is not what it sounds."
"No coccyx." He silences himself immediately, nodding his head too quickly. She briefly goes over what she's found, and he leans in, sniffling frequently. The familiar scent of whiskey and his cologne—though the cologne has faded to a mere whisper of what he would normally wear—envelops her as he brings himself nearly to her shoulder. Even knowing what she knows now about who—what—he is, she's not really surprised to find that she feels perfectly safe with him so close to her. His warmth radiates from him and she can feel it seeping into her back as he grips the back of her chair in order to huddle in front of the laptop screen to watch the surveillance video. She's missed him, missed his irrepressible presence this past week, even as she's been struggling to accept her new reality… his reality.
They catch up to their suspect at a wedding reception. Chloe chews her tongue, trying to ignore the fact that Lucifer actually falls asleep standing up beside her in the elevator. He manages to hold it together until they confront the man in the parking garage, accepting a roll of cash from the groom. Chloe's eyes narrow in suspicion as Lucifer accuses him not only of killing their victim, but also… an intern? In an incinerator?
"Lucifer!" she hisses, "Are you talking about an episode of Bones?"
The realization leads to Lucifer complimenting the man's acting skills, which thankfully relaxes him enough that he willingly offers them the information that he was hired to keep Kevin on drugs, and gives them a lead in the form of Masquerade, Inc., an agency that sets up actors to play roles of friends, family members, and significant others for people that need the fill-ins.
Back at the precinct, Lucifer is nearly giddy at the new information, but Chloe's concern is reaching Defcon 1.
"So, um... It says here the Masquerade office is in Hollywood. I'm driving." He backs around the corner of her desk and starts pacing hurriedly toward the stairs.
"Lucifer," she calls after him quietly and he turns, surprised that she hasn't moved from her desk. "I won't be able to get a warrant until tomorrow morning."
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no." he comes back to her desk, leaning over it intently, "It-it is imperative that we go now."
"It's imperative that you sleep." She stands from her chair, mirroring him by resting her hands on the opposite side of her desk. She certainly can't let him drive in this condition, she's going to have to take him back to Lux herself. "You clearly—"
"I can't sleep!" He bellows, eyes boring desperately into hers as he slams his hands down on the desk. She jumps back, the precinct stills around them, and he modulates himself to a softer tone, repeating brokenly, "Detective, I can't sleep."
She meets his despairing eyes for a long moment and feels tears start to prickle in her own. She walks silently to the nearest interrogation room and opens the door, turning back to him and raising an eyebrow. He glances around before following her, raking his fingers through his wild hair as he edges past her into the room. She closes the door behind them and turns to find him standing with his back to her, his hands fisted tight in his hair. He sighs, and it sounds like a sob.
"Lucifer. I've had it." He turns to face her as she speaks, his hands sliding over his face and his fingers tapping a manic rhythm on his cheeks as his wide eyes hold hers.
"You won't understand, will you." He interrupts her, desperately trying to cut off the tirade he's sure is coming. "It's my wings. They're back. My Father, he's manipulating me. He's making me do things that I would never do."
"Okay…" Chloe says slowly, trying to help alleviate some of his crippling anxiety, "Like flying through the night, helping people like some rogue angel?"
"Yes! Yes, exactly! That is the only plausible explanation." He squeaks a laugh, and his voice gains a despondent air, "Either that or Linda's right, and I'm suppressing pent-up feelings about you and Pierce," he nearly spits the name like an expletive, "which is obviously absurd."
"You hate that I'm with him." There's definitely something more to this… she's seen Lucifer jealous before, but he's never been… this.
"I couldn't care less that you're with that insolent… dullard." He tries to play it cocky, but it just comes out sounding defeated.
"We both know that's not true, and I thought that you don't lie?" She calls him out on his half-hearted attempt at deceit.
"Does it count as a lie if I'm trying to make it true?" Lucifer sinks miserably into the chair and braces his elbows on the suspects' side of the table, head down, gripping his hair tightly in his hands again. His throat works as he swallows, as if the words are burning him from within. "If I'm… trying to let you go, to be happy? Trying like bloody mad to make myself believe it?"
"What I want to know is why it bothers you so much." Her heart trembles in her chest, and she wants so badly to believe he cares for her the way she does—did, she tells herself, did—for him.
"Because, Detective," he pulls in a ragged breath and his red-rimmed eyes are wide in his pale face, holding hers. "I want you to be happy, but… I do happen to know him better than you, and I know that you can't trust him."
"Care to elaborate on that?" She prods, keeping her tone detached.
"I... Yeah. Fine, I will, because you deserve to know the truth."
"Yes, okay," I know some of it already… but not enough… Not enough to confront you about it yet, anyway.
"Pierce isn't Pierce. He's Cain from the Bible. And he's immortal." His voice gets louder and more frantic as the litany goes on until he's nearly shouting, and Chloe's heart thuds in her ears as she suddenly feels like she can't breathe. "He's been around for eons. And all he cares about is ridding himself of that stupid curse that my father put on him... because he killed his brother—"
"Stop, Stop!" she shouts back, and he lapses into reluctant silence, angry tremors wracking his lean frame. If Marcus is Cain… No. He can't be. Lucifer has to be wrong. "You're tired, and you're not thinking clearly."
"No... No," he howls, so upset now that he jumps to his feet, nearly dancing in place, he brings his fists up to hammer against his forehead in his frustration at not being heard, "I'm... it's not because I'm tired, Detective!"
"But since you brought it up, let me tell you what I think about Marcus. He is a good man who treats me right. And I'm happy, Lucifer." His exhausted expression is overtaken by a blank mask as she speaks, as though he knows what's coming and he's trying to brace for it with all his rapidly waning strength. She keeps talking, trying to erase the words that he's just poured into her consciousness and replace them with what she knows. "And all I know is how I feel when I'm around him, and, you know, I lo..." She stops as his mask abruptly shatters, leaving his anguish plainly written across his face and she can't bring herself to continue the thought. "I... you know what, we're done here."
She walks to the door and opens it, turning back to see him standing with shoulders slumped, head hanging in resignation.
"Are you coming?" she asks after a moment.
His head snaps up at her voice, he'd expected her to be gone already. "I… I don't—"
She crosses the room to him and grabs his elbow, gently guiding him to the door. "I said we're done here, we can't do any more tonight, and I need my partner to get his head on straight. If you're afraid to sleep because you think you're going to go flying off into the night like some kind of winged vigilante, then you can sleep at my place so I can wake you if you move."
"I'm—what?" She doesn't know if his confusion is due to his exhaustion—has he really not slept the entire week since she saw him last?—or because of her rapid about-face from the intense conversation they've just had, but he lets her drag him inexorably up the stairs to the lift that will take them to the parking garage.
"Come on Lucifer, you're coming home with me."