A/N: WOW. Just WOW! I am absolutely overwhelmed with the feedback you folks gave me for the last chapter! I'm so happy you could feel with Lucifer, feel the angst and suffering, and boy, it ain't over yet… Be ready for some more hurt as Lucifer tries to cope. Also, I updated the Tags accordingly. Now I leave you to it. Enjoy the read!

Aphotic = Lightless. Absence of light.

The aphotic zone is the water depth beyond at which less than 1% of sunlight manages to come through.

Recommended songs:

In Quantum - Odyssey

Istasha The Scrub - Come Get Your Omega 3

AronChupa - I'm An Albatraoz (E.Y. Beats Trap Remix)

Psionic Asylum - Mental Jail

Atrium Carceri & Cities Last Broadcast - A Deeper Dream

Chapter 8 – Aphotic

[In Quantum - Odyssey]

Over the course of the day, Ella's lab had become the pulsing center of the investigation. Ella and her new assistant Nick went over blood samples, fingerprints and the collected items from Zak's apartment. Dan worked in coordination with the technician team on Lucifer's GPS data and Chloe cracked open the lock on the small box that had been hidden in between Zak's clothes.

"Got it," she commented triumphantly to the metallic clunk sound as the lock broke and the hinges gave way to the content.

Lifting the lid, she looked at a clutter of small items: A tiepin, a zippo, a leather bracelet, a pair of broken glasses, a hair clip, an earring, a watch, a visitor ID badge, a necklace and several, unmatching cufflinks.

"What's inside?" Ella asked, her eyes still looking through a microscope of her latest sample while she scribbled down wild notes with her right hand.

Chloe frowned. "It's just… stuff. Random items…"

"But he kept them locked," Ella remarked and finally turned around. "So, maybe it's like a memory box? You know, stuff you want to keep because they remind you of the things you experienced, the people you were with. That kinda stuff."

It sounded plausible, but a sense of comfort didn't settle in Chloe's gut as she looked through the items. They didn't look like your usual memory box items. No tickets from a movie you went to with your girlfriend, no photos, no cards, no letters. They were clothing accessories for the most part and that came with a bitter presentiment. "I don't think those items stand for your typical memories," she muttered in thought, sat down at Ella's lab computer and accessed the database of criminal records. Pulling up Zak's file, she opened the cases of victims that he had been accused of being linked to.

"What do you mean?" Ella asked, curiously looking through the box of items next to Chloe on the table.

Opening up the image files of the victims, Chloe took a deep, sharp breath. They looked horrible. Faces covered in bruises, black and purple. Throat showing bruising through strangulation through all sorts of objects; wires, belts, cords and hands. But most prominent on all of them was the excessive amount of stab wounds in their chest. She pulled files of both before and after the crimes on the people, and stopped on the image of a woman.

Intrigued, Ella looked at the image as well. "Wait… do you see that? Her ear?" she asked, pointing at the woman's left ear. The lobe had a little hole, while the other earlobe was with an earring. Then she quickly roamed through the box and picked up a delicate, golden earring with green stones adorning its centre. Holding it up against the image of the woman, they saw it was a perfect match to the earring she was wearing.

"Holy shit…" Chloe muttered, seeing her worries confirmed. "One hell of a memory box it is… He used it for souvenirs of his victims." When Ella dropped the earring back in the box, she closed the lid with another heavy sigh. "I'll give this to Frank's team. They probably want to analyze all those things and perhaps re-open a few cases."

"You can bet your life on it. And this lowlife was sent out for Lucifer? God!" Ella exclaimed with shock and disgust. "Imagine that damn box would have a freaking souvenir of Lucifer! Well, I tell you what, Chloe, and," She stopped to hold onto her cross necklace, glancing upwards, "dear big Guy. I'm not particularly unhappy Zak ended up dead, while Lucifer didn't, okay? I'm making it official: I'm rooting for our charming Devil. And… I just realize how crazy that sounds. But you know what I mean!"

Smiling back at Ella for her heartfelt courage and devotion towards both God and Lucifer, of which the irony wasn't lost on her, she squeezed her arm in agreement. "I know, Ella. I think and feel the same. And I'm not feeling any remorse because of it either. Come on. Let's get on. How about you fill me in on what else you found out?"

Clapping her hands, Ella motioned for her new assistant Nick to take over on the microscope and spread out the new information in the form of her analysis sheets on the table. "Okay, so, first things first: The knife is a perfect match to the sheath. Who would've thought huh? And secondly, the ME report finally came in. Nothing major really. Cause of death is fatal hemorrhage. The knife cut through his main artery. There was not much that could've been done there. But there's something else the report states. The examiner found a residue inside the stab wound which turned out to be... Drumroll please…" Not really waiting for Chloe, all excited and totally back in her element, the Latina went on, "Ballistol oil."

"Okay, so he was stabbed with his own knife. It's a match. What a way to go. But you know that's not the really important question about the knife, Ella. What about the fingerprints on the handle?" Chloe asked, throwing her an apologetic look as she knew she was going for the difficult question. The sudden change in Ella's body language was speaking volumes and her pulse began to race, her heart pounding against her ribcage. "How bad is it?"

Ella frowned and visibly fought with tears. "As bad as it could be, I guess. It's Lucifer's fingerprints, Chloe. And the blood on Lucifer's hands also matches Zak's. I… I'm sorry..."

Her world felt spinning. This didn't look good. At all.

Lucifer's fingerprints are on the knife…. and it was Zak's blood on his hands… Shit!

Chewing on her lip, she forced her brain to continue to function and to not succumb to the fear over what appeared to have happened between Zak and Lucifer.

No… I refuse to believe it was like that…

"He's not a killer," she pressed, both to convince Ella and herself. "He'd never just kill someone unless it's self defence and his very last resort."

Throwing a handful of papers back on the table, Ella nodded. "I agree! I mean… He's the Devil, but Lucifer wouldn't do that. So, it's all the better that I've found out some other things as well." She reached for the box of evidence bags and took out the note Chloe had found at Zak's apartment. "Alright, so, the note was handwritten with a regular ballpen, so nothing special there, but we managed to get another print than Zak's from it."

"His boss?" Chloe murmured with a flicker of expectation rising in her eyes. "Is the print in our database?"

Ella's face lit up with a small smirk. "It is." Pulling towards them a pile of files, she fished out a certain one, about three fingers thick, and opened it up. "May I present to you: Gregor Ivanov. Known to be the current head of the Russian mafia here in L.A. This pack of papers you see here are all allegations that have never led to his conviction."

"Huh…" Putting on a playfully curious tone, she smirked back. "It looks like I should pay Gregor a visit then, don't you think?"

"Okay, but this time I won't let you go alone, Chlo, and there's nothing you can do about that," Dan's voice rang as he stepped into the lab, throwing her a harsh, pointed look that read No discussion, I mean it.

"Alright, alright, fine. I guess a little backup when confronting a mafia boss sounds plausible." With an aching heart she thought of her devilish partner on leave. He would be a great backup confronting such a guy… He'd probably turn him into a sobbing, puddly mess with just a glare of his hellfire eyes or embarrass him in front of his people when asking about his deepest desire… Spotting that Dan had come in with a note of his own, she shook herself out of her cloudy thoughts and pointed at the piece of paper. "What's that?"

"That's the analysis on Lucifer's phone from the technicians," Dan explained and pointed at the chart showing the activity with time stamps and locations. "His GPS got distorted from roughly 1:50 pm to 7.30 pm. It stopped while he was at Lux and then kicked in again at Lux in the evening."

"So it all began at Lux. That's a start. But the times also mean that during that time he could've been everywhere..." Chloe muttered in thought. "We gotta check traffic cams, see if we have a good view on Lux. We have a time window now. Maybe we get something from the footage."

"I get the techs on it," Dan said. "And then we pay Gregor a visit." His energetic let's-go attitude calmed down as his expression turned serious when he looked at Chloe. "How does it look so far?"

It didn't need any further explanation as to what he meant. With a heavy heart, she lifted her shoulders to a weak shrug. "Not good. The evidence points at Lucifer having killed Zak. And the rest of the story we just don't know. If at least Lucifer would remember something about that moment…" She let out a frustrated sigh and brushed a strand of loose hair from her face. "Well, we can't push that to happen…. Maybe he won't remember it at all. So we gotta work with what we have. If we can fix this on Gregor, then it's solid that Lucifer needed to defend himself."

Tilting his head, Dan frowned in irritation. "You know. I just keep wondering. What's the motive? I mean… not from Lucifer, of course. But why was Lucifer kidnapped in the first place? From what I read about the wounds on his back, this is insane. Why would anyone do that to him?"

Chloe's throat tightened from the impending lie she knew she had to tell and threw a short glance at Ella. He couldn't get involved or know the truth about what happened. Not that Dan would believe their word. She knew how crazy it would sound. "Well, we don't know exactly. Obviously someone wanted to harm him and then dispatch him for good. For all we know, it was one sick person..." She knew she sounded angry, but she also didn't care to hide it in front of her team. With every detail she uncovered from the truth over Lucifer's case, she found the sickness she felt become worse and worse. And again her thoughts wandered to the Devil, hoping that he was coping more or less okay, because she was beginning to lose the rest of her own composure in regards to what had happened.

"True. As much as I don't like the weirdo, he doesn't deserve that," Dan muttered and motioned her to come along. "Come. I'll just get the technicians on the traffic cams and we can head out. But I'll drive…. I'm concerned you'd skip some red lights on the way."

When Chloe took a breath to protest, he gave her a pointed look. Yes. He was right. He knew her well when it came to Lucifer and having a lead, she would not be too strict about laws herself, when usually she was very dutiful of them. But she was glad Dan understood, because he had been through so much himself because of Charlotte. "Alright… Let's go."

The estate of Gregor Ivanov was surrounded by an 8ft (2,4m) iron fence and was, just like the front gate, equipped with cameras as well as stationed security guards. Guards who themselves were as tall as baseball players and as bulky as bodybuilders. Expressions grim, their hands on their belts in a macho-like pose, the two guards stepped in front of the gate as Chloe and Dan approached.

"No access without an appointment," one of them said in a thick Russian accent. His throat and hands were covered with tattoos, and added with thick, golden rings that adorned his fingers, he looked like a stereotypical criminal.

"No appointment needed," Chloe countered in a stern tone, showing her badge. "LAPD. We'd like to speak with Gregor Ivanov. Now."

Grumpily muttering something in Russian, the guard opened the gate with a remote control while the other man used his headset to announce them. The front door of the estate opened and an elderly man, all dressed up in butler attire, approached them. Gesturing Chloe and Dan to follow him along, he led the way across the driveway and into the big entrance hall.

Chloe couldn't do else but be impressed. But she was also angry as hell. The lush interior, with marble statues, golden ornaments and flower bouquets all the way, was telling her: Crime does pay. Of course, she knew she couldn't possibly stop every single criminal in the city, but it was causing her blood to go up to see how this lowlife was living while causing others so much harm.

Led into what seemed to be a study with bookshelves along the walls and a massive desk in front of a fireplace, the butler bowed politely and left the detectives. Gregor Ivanov was leaning over a set of papers and books, taking notes with a fountain pen. He was wearing a black suit on a smooth white shirt of which Chloe could tell, thanks to her experience with Lucifer, that it was not the regular cheap stuff you'd get at your local store. It was tailored and the fabric expensive.

"Just one moment, please," Gregor said loftily, completely absorbed in his work.

"Erm.. How about No?" Dan grunted, watching in satisfaction as Gregor rolled his eyes and dropped his pen.

When Gregor leaned back in his hair and looked at them, Chloe stepped up towards him. "Mr. Ivanov… I'm detective Decker, this is detective Espinoza. We're investigating a homicide as well as grievous bodily harm. Would you happen to know a man named Zak Boone?"

"What a tragedy…" he said without sounding affectionate at all. "Zak Boone? Let me think." Crossing his legs and folding his hands leisurely on top, Gregor looked past them, pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm… I'm not sure… The name doesn't ring a bell… You know, I employ many men and I might not be aware of all their names..."

"Oh, really?" Chloe asked skeptically and pulled up a photo from Zak from the morgue. "How about this? Does this ring a bell?"

It was the small reactions, lasting just a single second, that made all the difference and told Chloe the truth. The flexing muscles in Gregor's jaw, the hard swallow and the sharp twitch of the corner of his eyes. She knew he was about to lie. Not that she didn't already figure he would deny knowing Zak. He was a crime boss that so far could not be sent behind bars. But this note could make a huge difference. She knew it wasn't yet enough for the judges, but perhaps it would give them way to more evidence. You never knew.

"Oh, such a poor fella…" Gregor said, his voice coming out pressed through clenched teeth. "I'm sorry… He doesn't look familiar…"

"Huh. Odd. Really odd," Chloe muttered, keeping her anger at bay. "Because we found your fingerprints in Zak's apartment and this really doesn't look good for you..." She intentionally withheld the information about the note and was, as Lucifer would put it, bluffing. Not over the evidence they had, but she knew her choice of words suggested that Gregor had been inside Zak's apartment. And that was like putting a gun to his chest.

Gregor's jaw clenched tight again, his dark eyes piercing through her with boiling fury. "That's impossible," he grumbled harshly.

"Well, actually it is. We've matched your print. So there's no point in denying it," she went on sternly.

"I don't know this man and I was never in his apartment," Gregor countered and crossed his arms on his chest in feigned ignorance.

Stepping closer to his desk, Chloe let her fingertips run over the expensive wood, looking over the many notes and books spread out on it. "Then you surely won't have anything against verifying that through a graphology test, right?" Chloe asked challengingly and picked up one of the handwritten notes.

Gregor's expression immediately faltered in irritation, his posture opening up. "What? What do you mean? What is that?"

Dan took out his set of handcuffs with a smug grin on his lips. "We'll compare your handwriting with the note we found which has your prints on it. And in the meantime, you'll wait in a cell, because you're the main suspect in kidnapping as well as grievous bodily harm."

That brought Gregor to finally snap. Pushing himself up, the blood rushed into his face. "You can't be serious! You think I did that to Zak?! This is outrageous!"

Interesting how he called him by his first name like that… "No, Gregor. We don't take you to the precinct because we think you killed Zak. We have reason to believe you hired Zak to kidnap and kill Lucifer Morningstar," Chloe explained, as Dan grabbed Gregor's left arm and forced it behind his back.

"K-kill Lucifer?!" he gasped, his eyes wide in shock. "W-What the hell?! I- I would never-"

"Yes. That was what your note in Zak's apartment was all about, wasn't it?! It was the address of Lux! Lucifer's address! You sent him there to abduct and murder him," Chloe pressured, noting that Gregor's reaction suggested he at least knew Lucifer.

"God, no! I- I didn't know that this was about-" He cut himself off, visibly fighting to give information that had the possibility of being the final nail to his coffin.

"You won't talk? Fine. You don't have to," Chloe said, putting her hand on her holstered weapon just in case, while Dan cited Gregor's rights and cuffed his other wrist onto his back. She hadn't lied. Obviously Gregor couldn't be forced to talk. But even if they would match his handwriting, the case was still not concluded. She'd need more evidence and more information in general to get any further in Lucifer's case. Otherwise, Gregor would come free again and they'd have nothing left to find whoever mutilated Lucifer.

[Istasha The Scrub - Come Get Your Omega 3]

The Music blasted through the penthouse on full volume as Lucifer watched the white powder vibrate on the table in front of him with a trance-like fascination. It was the fifth and also the last package he had lying around. If this wouldn't finally work, then he would need to call his contacts for an immediate restock of his supplies.

Leaning over the line he had scraped up, he aligned the rolled one-hundred-dollar bill, pressed his right nostril shut and snorted the entire content of the package into his left one in one go. He swiped up the little leftovers with his finger and licked off the remaining cocaine, leaving not the slightest bit unused.

He needed every bit he could gather so he could manipulate his terribly inconvenient high-metabolism body.

Eyelids fluttering, he downed the rest of his bourbon, refilled the glass and leaned back in his chair. It was already the second decanter of Macallan he was working to flood into his system, but he knew he was nowhere near the point of running empty. He still had a whole cupboard filled with bottles of his favourite brand and even if he'd drink them all, it would take him days to do so. But they had to just be enough to survive today.

He tapped on his cellphone to check the time, spotting that it was only half past three.

Still so much left of this bloody day…

Letting his head roll forward, he rested his hand with the filled glas in his lap and waited for the cocaine to kick in. He had taken all his stash within a short amount of time, knowing it was best to overflow his system in one go, rather than testing his body's limits. The more time he would give it, the faster it would actually render the drug useless. So he had to go fast and hard, if he wanted to have a good effect.

And he desperately needed it to be fucking good.

It took about five excruciatingly long minutes until he felt the rush begin. He knew it would probably be another five before it would really kick in, so it was now time to complete the mix with his Tuesday-fun-bag.

Licking his lips in a subconscious move of thrill beginning to pump through him, he opened the plastic back lying in front of him on the table and took a handful of variously shaped and coloured pills. "And way down you go," he quipped to himself with a humourless tone, threw the pills into the back of his mouth and washed them down with big gulps of his bourbon.

This would be good. No. Not good. But better compared to staying clean and sober, that much he was sure of.

He closed his eyes, briefly, or at least he thought it was just for a few seconds. The beat kept pulsing through the room, mimicking his spiked blood pulsing through his veins, and slowly he felt his mind being numbed. A fuzzy, tingling feeling spread through him, the haunting images blurred away into a colourful kaleidoscope and his lips curled up into a relaxed smile. Coherent thoughts of his condition and events of the previous day released from his tensed muscles and made his limbs feel excitedly jittery instead of anxiously cramped up. Opening his eyes, he put the glass down onto the coffee table with a loud clunk and let his head begin to slowly bob to the rhythm of the beat.

[AronChupa - I'm An Albatraoz (E.Y. Beats Trap Remix)]

Chuckling to himself about a stray thought, he stood up and swayed to the music, his body loosening up more and more. Soon nothing felt heavy anymore, nothing felt important or suffocating. The track switched to the next song, just as loud and roaring as the one before, and his mood finally skyrocketed. Bouncing through the penthouse in cheerful steps, he continued to drink from his stash, smoked and found all kinds of ways to busy himself, because everything felt like a party.

Time passed by, not that he really noticed how the sun set at the horizon of L.A. He kept his high in a steady place, his Tuesday-fun-bag helping him through like the dangerously supportive gangster-pal it was. He turned his penthouse upside down in a matter of hours. He had piled up statues and other collectibles he had acquired over the millennia into bizarre towers, dancing around them like they were some religious totem. His book collection was converted into a fortress and his collection of daggers was used to practise his throwing skills.

Again and again he reached into his bag of pills, downed them with more liquor until his fingers scraped against plastic, not finding any more of the rounded, little shapes. Blinking somewhat irritated and surprised, Lucifer stared into the bag to find it empty. It took him a moment to grasp that fact, the carefree dizziness in his head becoming weaker but still in effect.

"Bollocks…" he slurred with a huff, tossed the empty bag aside before taking another drag from his cigarette. Smoking it down to the butt, he squashed it in the overflowing ashtray, grabbed himself a new bottle of bourbon, and trotted towards the couch. With a long sigh, he fell back into the armchair. The bright colours and buzzing sounds became duller and heavier with every breath he took and he realized that this was it. The party was over. He switched off the soundsystem all together and waited for the mental numbness to pass and give him back full control over his actions.

Within only a few minutes, his foggy brain began to clear, but it didn't bring him the firmness of reality. It brought back horrors like a tidal wave. The remittent effect of substances in his system combined with his subconsciousness coming back alive, became a terrifying cocktail that flooded his senses.

[Psionic Asylum - Mental Jail]

~o~

The rootlike lamp above him begins to flicker and the dim lighting it provides around him is suddenly gone, leaving him in a brutal darkness. Turning towards his bar, he squints his eyes, trying to grasp if the wall lighting had become weaker as well. Somehow the bar is still shining, but its light doesn't seem to penetrate into the room, providing no contours to his surroundings. Only a bit of moonlight and the distant glow of the city itself reaches into the penthouse, causing a soft blueish tint on the furniture's edges.

His breathing becomes ragged and he breaks out in cold sweat. Setting down his glass and bottle on the coffee table with trembling hands, he looks through the room from left to right, feeling a sense of dread creeping up his spine. His neck hairs stand alert while he glances over the interior of his bar, the piano, the elevator and the two storey library walls. The darkness seems to come alive with a threatening, low growl vibrating through the penthouse.

"Who's there?!" he calls out, pressing himself harder into the back of the armchair. Fingers curling into the leather of the armrest, he gazes in growing panic, trying to penetrate the darkness with his eyes.

"Me," a male voice rings low and sharply from the far right corner of the living room. It's coming from the area between his balcony window and the spiral staircase, shrouded in a pitch black shadow.

That voice. He knows it. How can he ever forget?

It is him.

Did he come up here while he was too stoned to notice?

Swallowing, the sweat trailing down his forehead, Lucifer winces from the painful ache of his heart as it thunders in horror. "Go away! Leave me the hell alone!" he shouts, trying to sound angry, but he can't keep his voice from shaking.

A sinister, dark laughter sounds from the corner. "But I'm not done with you yet, Devil…"

The leather beneath his fingers squeaks, his knuckles go white. "No... " he breathes, more in disbelief to himself than as a demand to the voice.

Eyes fixed on the corner, he waits, transfixed to the spot. He doesn't think about getting up, doesn't know if he even could. He feels a lacing pressure around his wrists, ankles and chest, binding him harder against the armchair if even possible. Something is holding him in place.

Suddenly the dark corner seems to move, to shift, and slowly he can make out the silhouette of a man emerging from it. Panting and gasping in shock, his eyes widen as the figure comes closer, the soft blue light revealing the face, or rather the surgical mask and cap that cover it. Only the hard, piercing blue set of eyes stand out as they glare at him with a malicious sparkle. A small play of the light and shadow draws his eyes lower and makes him spot the nitrile gloved hands glistening and dripping from fresh blood.

Yes. It is him.

"You should know I'm going to finish what I started. Can't have you walk around and allay innocents' suspiciousness with your rotten charm," the man says in a nonchalant way, as if this situation is only natural. "I'm sure you can understand…"

"N-no... Leave me alone…" Lucifer whimpers, his eyes burning from tears he doesn't want to spill. "Please…"

The man's right hand slowly rises and it is just then, that Lucifer can see the scalpel.

"No… No, don't… Not again… Please… Please!" His whimpers become strangled, desperate shouts. He tries to wiggle out of his seat, but a sharp pain in his back causes him to cry out and stop immediately. Something feels hot, sticky and wet on his back and the piercing pain starts anew. This time he can tell it is coming from his shoulder blades. "W-what h-have you d-done to m-me?"

Humming amused, the man steps closer, the metal of the scalpel flickering in the light. "I've done something extraordinary… It's almost a little bit sad you won't be able to witness it… Now hush… Let me finish what I started…"

The man comes closer and closer, and Lucifer's whole body tries to crawl out of itself to get away, to get distance in between them, but all he manages to do is tilt his head backwards. His body stays transfixed and the pain in his shoulder blades becomes throbbing and tearing. Grunting from pain and rasping for air, he recoils further from the man's hand as it comes near his face. "No...n-no… No, don't..." But instead of cutting his face, the scalpel's blunt side wanders over his lips and chin, down his throat and towards his chest.

"Starting with the Devil… This has been just perfect…" the man breathes in satisfaction and Lucifer could swear he is smirking behind his mask, the wrinkles at the man's eyes contracting.

Unable to move away, Lucifer has nothing left to do. Eyes wide, his scream tears through the silence of the penthouse as the scalpel thrusts into his heart and one moment later the lights switch back on.

~o~

[Atrium Carceri & Cities Last Broadcast - A Deeper Dream]

The man was gone.

Panting and wincing, his back still aching, Lucifer clutched against his chest, searching, feeling. Frantically, he looked down on himself. His hands were shaking, but he couldn't spot any blood on his chest. His shirt was dishevelled but intact. Glancing over his left shoulder and reaching to his back, he felt for his shoulder blades. He wasn't exactly sure what to expect. There was no blood soaking his shirt. There were no wings stumps sticking out either. Just rough patches of marred skin that ached beneath soft fabric.

"What the hell…?" he mouthed, blinking as his brain tried to catch up with what had just happened.

He pushed himself up on jelly-knees and looked around. The corners of his penthouse were still somewhat dark, but he could easily make out his interior with his overhead lights being back on.

Have they really been off though… or was I dreaming? Or perhaps hallucinating? It felt so bloody real...

Running his hand through his messy hair, he blew out a heavy breath.

Must've been the freaking slope going down from my high… Damnit...

He glanced over to the small grandfather clock and sighed.

10:47pm… Not even midnight?!

His plan of getting coked up and strung-out for the whole night had totally failed. He had to face the rest of the night with alcohol only which he knew wasn't going to daze his brain enough to not think.

"FUCK!" he cursed through gritted teeth, his anger fading in the empty penthouse.

He needed a distraction. Anything. Now. Before his mind could wander. Before he could think of the man, his piercing blue eyes and the bloodstained scalpel in his hand. Before the fear would render him motionless and before he would break down again.

Trotting over into the elevator, he pressed the button for the ground floor. It was still a few hours until closing time for Lux. Surely it was possible to busy his mind, or rather, shut it off completely, for the remaining hours. The ride of the elevator took forever, an endless moment of being stuck in nothingness where he tried to busy himself with counting the scratches in the walls. But as soon as the doors slid open, the thumping beat of music pushed into him, helping him get distracted.

Flowing through the crowd on the dancefloor, and grinding and swaying with the partying guests, he aimed for the bar. Benjamin greeted him while preparing a set of drinks for two guests seated next to him. Lucifer shortly debated whether he would just walk around the counter and grab himself whatever was there that piqued his interest, or if he would just let himself be surprised.

"Something particular you'd like, Mr. Morningstar?" Benjamin asked politely, stashing the money from the guests in the register.

"I dunno, really…. Something that fits the situation, perhaps?" Lucifer muttered, his eyes fluttering weakly at the changing lights flashing from the pedestial of the DJ.

"Alright then, sir," the barkeeper said with a joyful undertone. "Zombie coming right up."

Lucifer scoffed out a small laugh and rubbed his palms over his face. A zombie. Seemed fitting indeed. He felt like and right now definitely preferred to be one. Braindead. Incapable to have worries or fears. Just a constant hunger that could only be attempted to be sated but never really achieved. It was just the same with his drive for distraction. Pills, alcohol, dancing. A year ago he would've added sex to the list as well, but now that the Detective and him were officially dating, other women were off limits for him. He might be completely wasted, but he was not as stupid to hurt Chloe in such way. However, dancing with other guests wouldn't harm anyone. Such was his logic.

The red-orange drink was set in front of him, a couple of ice cubes swimming on top with a straw and little umbrella sticking out in between. "Thanks." Pulling out the decor, he grabbed the longdrink and downed it in one go. It was a sugar-alcohol bomb, fruity and almost so sweet it was sticky.

"Damn. I've never seen anyone down one before like that. You're gonna have some fun time in a few minutes, sir," Benjamin commented, taking the empty glass from his boss.

"Oh I sure hope so. Keep those zombies coming my way, Benjamin," Lucifer muttered, licking the alcoholic syrup from his lips. When he made his way back into the crowd, several ladies instantly ground against him, making unequivocal insinuations, circling one of his legs and brushing their heated lady parts under their dresses against it. He didn't mind it one bit. In fact they helped him keep his mind and body busy, arousing his nerves and in consequence lighting up his mood.

The party went on for another three hours at Lux, before the club had to close. Somewhat intoxicated from the continuous flow of zombies down his throat, Lucifer watched as the last guest left the club at 2:30am. Despite him asking several of the ladies who had been attached to his legs, none of them had accepted his offer to join him upstairs. It wasn't so much for them not being interested in him. It was actually exactly the issue. He told them he wasn't going to have sex with them, but only needed their company for distraction and that made them turn him down.

With a good three hours left before sunrise and the real start of the day, he made his way back into his penthouse and crawled into bed. Staring at the ceiling, he tried to not think of what had happened today, but when he was listing up the names of his siblings like normal people were counting sheep, his thoughts eventually diverted back to today.

A day filled with failings. Starting with a nightmare and him almost choking the Detective to death. Then him being kept out of the investigation because he was a murder suspect, followed by the complete disaster of his hypnotic session with the doctor. And now he had even failed to just be completely stoned for the rest of the night and instead had been plagued with a vivid hallucination on his trip. It really had truly been a royally fucked up day.

Unfortunately for him, it wasn't over just yet.

A/N: Oh, poor Luci… Don't we just all want to hug him SO BADLY?! He tried everything to get along, but, typical Lucifer, he used all kinds of questionable methods and failed miserably. Instead of dealing with what happened, he's affected more and more from the brutal assault on him. Meanwhile Chloe and the rest of the team gathered quite a lot of information on the case. But, oh boy, they'll soon get quite another issue to chew on! *insert evil laughter*

Let me know what you think! Maybe you read something in between the lines (I hint at stuff, you know?!). :D I hope you enjoyed this chapter folks! I'll see you in the next one!

- Luni