"It's all true." The words fall unbidden from her lips, and the creature kneeling in front of the body smoothly stands and turns to face her with a gruesome smile.
The realization that had hatched just minutes ago from all the eggs she had collected from her partner over the years had finally fledged, and was now fluttering in her brain, battering the ragged edges of her brain and ricocheting off the inside of her skull with desperate, irregular wingbeats. Its feathers were white. And bloody. She wishes she could just shove the damn thing back in the egg and make an omelet from it.
But now he – it? – is looking at her with eyes of fire and a ruinous parody of her partner's face, with his beautifully rich voice, that familiarly accented "Detective?" falling from melted lips in that well-known tone of concern. It's wearing Lucifer's suit, she can see a blood stained slice on the bicep of its (his?) left arm, bullet holes in the chest, and blood spray scattered over the rest of it, and she can just barely make out Pierce's still form on the ground behind him, where it had been crouched as she descended the stairs.
"It's all true," she breathes again
"Detective? Are you all right?" It pleads, and her voice catches at the softness of it, she takes a step back as it steps forward and nearly falls on her ass up the stairs in her hurry to get away.
"Don't come any closer!" She cries, her voice breaking. A wave of terror washes over her and its craggy brow draws together in a blunted expression of concern, the expression appearing slowly as though being impressed into melted wax.
It takes a step back and its hands fiddle with its cuffs, the way Lucifer always- Oh, God.
The swirling magma vortex of the hooded eyes flicker down to the hands and she hears the beast inhale deeply.
"Ah," the beloved voice continues quietly, and when she blinks her partner stands before her, pale and drawn, splattered with blood. "I see that you believe me now."
She can't speak, can't even begin to formulate words as her lips move soundlessly. Her brain is screaming at her to run, but this is a crime scene, and she can't just leave. Dan and Ella have called for backup, and they should be here any moment…
"Not to worry, I'll maintain my distance. I can hear sirens, so your backup is on the way, and I daresay they'll be taking you to hospital to get that bruising taken care of. A bruise like that so close to your heart can't be something to take lightly." The voice is subdued, but it's as though he can't stop speaking in that way he gets when he's reasonably sure she's about to yell at him. "I am sorry, Detective, this… this is not how I had planned to tell you about, well. It hardly matters, I suppose." This last was muttered under his breath, but it carries to her ears regardless.
"'It hardly matters?!'" she sputters, and he flinches. His face crumples, but he doesn't try to come nearer. He turns away, surveying the room and her gaze is finally partially freed to do the same. She keeps him in her sights, curling into herself on the steps, the dull ache at her sternum blooming further now, making it more difficult to pull adequate breath into her chest with her lungs working overtime to keep pace with her racing heart. With his gaze turned away, she can survey the destruction. Pockmarks from hundreds of bullets cover the columns and statuary, the dust hangs heavy in the air and coats her tongue, drying her mouth further. She glances up, then down and notices more holes in the tiles of the floor, and dozens of enormous bloodied feathers, like the ones on the rooftop where he left her. Something tickles her brain, but she can't reach for it right now, can't consider anything other than the devil in front of her and how she can get away. She can hear the sirens now, wailing and screaming much like she should be, if she could muster it. It's not too much longer before unis are flooding the scene and Lucifer's prediction is correct, they usher her out on a gurney and into an ambulance. The devil keeps his word, he maintains his distance but she spots him glancing at her, keeping tabs. She loses sight of him as they remove her from the loft and wheel her to the ambulance, and she immediately feels better and yet more anxious at the same time.
Dan and Ella visit her room as soon as they're allowed, full of worry. Dan assures her that Trixie is safe with Linda, and Ella asks which room Lucifer is in so she can check on him.
"He's… not here," she manages to say, though her throat constricts around the words. "He was giving his statement when I was wheeled out. He… killed Pierce."
"Yeah, I know, Martinez told us," Ella replies slowly, "But… why isn't he here?"
"Why would he be here?" Chloe squeaks, and this time even Dan looks at her funny. "I mean, he's got a lot of questions to answer, he won't be able to break away for hours yet…"
"And when has that ever stopped Lucifer from doing exactly what he wants to do?" Dan asks petulantly. "Not that I'm sorry he's gone. I'm… I can't just forget that he didn't tell us about Pierce, Chloe, I can't just-"
"Charlotte didn't tell us about Pierce either, Dan!" Chloe shouts, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I just, can we not talk about him right now?" her voice quavers.
"Yeah, sure, okay Decker, that's fine," Ella jumps in, uncomfortable with the sudden tension between her two friends. The important thing is, you're okay, we're all okay, and nobody has to worry about Pierce anymore."
"Right. Right." Chloe nods vehemently, and Ella squeezes her hand. The silence in the room blossoms, and a few minutes later Ella makes an excuse to head home.
Dan watches her go, and turns to Chloe with an angry expression, but Chloe cuts him off.
"I… I'm going to take some time off, Dan. Trixie and I, we're… we're gonna take a nice long vacation when they let me out of here, okay? Can you take her until they clear me?"
"Uh.. yeah." Her change of subject derails whatever tirade he was about to unleash. "Yeah, you're right, you should take some personal time. Go somewhere nice, yeah?"
"Yes," she agrees quietly, "Nice, and far."
Dan leaves to pick up Trix, and Chloe is left alone. She lays in the hospital bed, for once not at all eager for her release, content to just lie there and vacillate between terror, fury, despondency, and so many shades of emotions in between.
I kissed him. Twice. I let him into my home, let him be around my daughter. I trusted him and he's been lying this entire time!
(Not lying! A tiny voice that sounds like Lucifer in her mind tries to interject, He doesn't lie… it's not his fault you wouldn't believe him.)
No one believes him! She snarls silently back at the voice, and it doesn't say anything further.
The LAPD arrives to take her statement, and she's shocked that she doesn't even have to lie. Just.. not mention certain truths. She was shot and knocked out from the impact. Lucifer must have gotten her away somehow, when she woke she was on the roof and she went after her partner. When she found him, Pierce was already dead. She didn't see the altercation. She didn't see where the weird bloody feathers came from. No need to mention the craggy-faced beast with the eyes of fire that spoke with her partner's voice. No need to get herself committed to the psych ward… she wouldn't be able to escape him if she were locked away.
So, that's how he does it. Although, even she has to admit, he really had been telling the truth. The entire time. No matter how many times she hadn't believed him. Which, of course, only angers her further. What kind of game is he playing? What kind of ridiculously long, pointless plot has he been working this entire time?
The hospital finally lets her go with instructions to restrict activity, use ice packs as needed, and take ibuprofen for pain.
Not a problem, she thinks to herself, my luggage has wheels, no heavy lifting required.
A week later, she finds herself in a dusty cathedral of a library, lamps dimly flickering, poring through ancient books of lore. She feels guilty for leaving Trixie in the hotel room with the credit card and child-safe pay-per-view, but the hotel door and lock are sturdy, and Trixie is 10 now, old enough to be trusted on her own for a couple of hours with sufficient distractions. Especially with the promise of Paris Disneyland dangled in front of her like a carrot for good behavior while Mommy works.
She's halfway through a tableful of horrifying manuscripts, full of vulgar imagery of half-flayed corpses, devouring beasts, and demonic orgies when a gentle hand on her shoulder sends her spinning and reaching for the sidearm she isn't carrying.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." the kind-faced priest backs away, hand out placatingly as he chuckles. "I'm, uh, Father Kinley. Someone said you might need some help with research?"
Chloe stands from the table, laughing nervously at her startlement, placing her hand over the page she'd been looking at. "Yes! Did you hear some crazy lady was asking about the devil?"
"I don't think you're crazy at all," He shakes his head, waving off her disclaimer as he chuckles with her. His face settles into earnestness, "In fact, I think we should talk."
Kinley steps back, and gestures that Chloe should walk with him. He leads her out of the library and into a courtyard where bells are ringing somewhere nearby, effectively muting their conversation from passing ears. "I work for a division of the church called The International Associate of Exorcists. We deal with demonic possession. People who believe that they have encountered the devil or… to be the devil." He watches her carefully as she averts her gaze. "We know about Lucifer Morningstar, Ms. Decker. We have been aware of him for about seven years. At first, we thought he was just a benign eccentric, but the more we watched him, the more… terrifyingly authentic he became. And since you've traveled all this way to research him, I assume that you agree."
Demonic possession… oh my God I didn't even think of that. Is… did Maze steal that body? Has she been riding some poor human soul like a puppet master for years while I've been blithely listening to her bragging about torturing people and thinking she's just harmlessly… okay, sort-of-harmlessly crazy? My daughter is best friends with a demon and Satan, I am the worst mother ever.
"I… don't know what to think," Chloe sidles away from the man, shaking her head at his reasonable words.
"I realize that this must be extremely difficult for you." He stands in front of her, his voice gentle. "And I want you to know, that I'm here to help."
Every day for two weeks, Chloe went back to the library, and every day Kinley met her, offering his proof, his plan, his poison vial. Every defense Chloe throws at him, he has a counter. He's so certain, never wavering, always calm, always understanding. Finally, on the last day, she takes the vial.
Just because I take it doesn't mean I have to use it, she rationalizes. It simply means I'm keeping my options open for protecting, well… everyone.
Trixie isn't sad to leave Rome, despite her new attachment to gelato. She's not really sure why her mom's been letting her stay at the hotel for a few hours every day the past few weeks, but she has an idea that it's something about Lucifer, and she really doesn't approve of the things she found written in her mom's notebook. Lots of stuff about bible verses like the ones her abuela makes her recite, and an Adversary, and loads of mean stuff about her friend.
Trixie doesn't understand why her mom is so sad, and she won't talk to her about it so she worries silently. Mom also took her phone when they left California, so she can't even text Maze or Lucifer to talk and cheer her up. She was mad at Maze for a while because she had called her stupid, but she really knew that Maze didn't mean it. Maze was mad at Daddy for some reason and was just saying stuff she didn't mean because of that. Trixie understands that, kids at school do it a lot. So, she sulks and orders the most expensive movies on Pay-per-View that she's allowed to, then doesn't bother to watch them. Italian pizza is boring for her, not nearly enough cheese and toppings- as far as she's concerned, it's mostly bread, and very dry. The hotel smells funny, and even though she understands some of the words people say, she can't pick out enough of them for anything she hears to make sense. So far, this vacation is a huge disappointment.
She manages to enjoy herself at Disneyland Paris, despite her Mom not really being present. She's there, walking or strapped into the rides beside her, but every time Trixie tries to share something amazing with her, she responds with a distracted, "That's great, baby," and a vague smile before dropping back into a light daze.
The food is better in Paris, mainly the chocolate croissants, but she misses gelato. And home, a lot. The tower is pretty cool, especially when it lights up and stuff at night, but the streets are really crowded and the buildings are all so close together and she can't understand anything anyone says, even if they are speaking English.
She's relieved when her mom says they're leaving for home in the morning and can't wait to get home. She's got a mental list of stuff she wants to tell Maze and Lucifer about their trip when they get there.
When they fly into New York Trixie asks for her phone back.
"Sorry, Trix, I left our phones at home. We couldn't afford the international roaming fees, even with Grandma's help on the travel." Nevermind that Chloe hadn't wanted Maze to have a way to track them if she chose to. Penelope had been ecstatic that Chloe had finally taken her up on her offer to financially help her take a lavish vacation, and had supplied funds very generously that Chloe had mostly spent on airfare and Trixie's Disney excursion.
Her mom drops her off at her Dad's house without even taking her home first, promising to drop off her phone later, once it's charged. After an enthusiastic greeting, her Dad sends her into her room to gather her laundry from her luggage for the wash, and she leaves the door open so she can overhear their conversation.
"Thanks for not telling him where we were, Dan, I… just needed a break."
"Hey, you don't have to thank me, I would have done it anyway, just to watch him squirm," her Dad's voice has a nasty edge to it, and her stomach tightens. She doesn't know who they're talking about, but hearing that much anger in her Dad's voice makes her nervous.
"Dan, you shouldn't- just… just leave him alone, okay? Don't mess with him, please?" Her mom's voice is ragged, like it has been since the day she came home and announced their vacation. Like she's about to cry.
"Did you know he kept coming to crime scenes while you were gone? Every single one. He'd just show up, throw a few jabs, then just leave after 15 minutes or so." Dad is nearly shouting now, his voice tight with hate. "It's ridiculous, Chloe, everyone just lets him get away with everything! There's no way he should still have his position as a consultant after doing NO work for an entire month!"
"Well, to be fair, I don't think his position is actually a paid one-"
"What?" Trixie giggles quietly as her Dad's voice actually squeaks. "Are you telling me he's been doing this all along for… for free? Just because he feels like it?"
"He always told me that he just didn't need the money." Trixie can practically hear her mother shrug, though her voice still sounds dead. "But anyway, I do appreciate you keeping our trip plans quiet. I'll see you at work on Monday, yeah? Trix? I'm leaving sweetie."
"Okay Mom!" She comes out of her room with a bounce and a big smile, like she hadn't just listened to their conversation from behind her door. "Don't forget to bring my phone, okay?"
"Okay, baby."
When Chloe does bring the phone, Trixie immediately notices some differences. Her social media apps have new controls, and two very prominent numbers are missing. When she asks, her mother tells her that Lucifer and Maze got new phones while they had been in Europe, and that she didn't have their new numbers yet.
That doesn't explain why Trixie's entire chat histories with them have been deleted, or why the photos of them have been removed, but Trixie doesn't push it… turning the puzzle over and over in her mind. If her Mom won't talk to her, and her Dad won't either… how can she find out what's going on?
Seeing him at the crime scene is… strange. She's grateful for her acting background, enabling her to cover her panic as she approaches the area where he is talking with Ella.
She'd been late on purpose, hoping that he would already have left and that she could have had one case back before having to face him, but apparently she hadn't been late enough. The devil is standing in the middle of her crime scene, bold as brass and twice as shiny in his tailored heather grey suit and perfectly styled hair.
As she approaches she catches the faint echoes of their conversation.
"I think it's time I stop coming to crime scenes." Lucifer's voice is sincere and soft, as it often is when addressing either herself or Ella.
"You mean, you're done showing up, checking to see if Chloe's here, and then heading out without helping at all?" Ella details sarcastically. Chloe snorts quietly to herself, lingering outside their notice for a moment to listen. Maybe she can still avoid this entire confrontation… she moves closer.
"Yes. I've been holding on to a false hope, it seems." He chuckles, and it sounds sad. "Quite foolish really, that one day she'd just stroll up…" Chloe curses the moment Ella notices her, eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across her face, and sees Lucifer start to turn. Her cover is blown, so she finishes her approach.
"Hey, sorry I'm late," she greets, as though it's every morning you confront Satan himself.
All right, technically she's been greeting Satan himself pretty much daily for the past several years, but she didn't know she was greeting Satan.
(And nothing happened, reminds that tiny voice that sounds like Lucifer.) She ignores it.
"Decker!" Ella exclaimed excitedly, coming in for an enthusiastic hug. "Oh my God!"
"Detective…" Lucifer begins incredulously.
"How was the vacation!? Where did you go? Why… why are you not more tanned?" Ella lifts her blazer away from her shoulders, as though hoping for some tan lines somewhere.
Yeah.. tan lines are hard to come by when you're spending the majority of your time in a dimly lit library holed up with a priest planning to abolish the Great Beast from the earthly plane.
"Listen, I'll catch you up on everything, I promise, but first, what's happening?" Lucifer hasn't stopped staring at her with a concerned expression throughout this entire exchange, and he's even following her as she goes to speak with the grieving widow, still staring as though she were some sort of apparition.
She tries her best to focus solely on the case details, but she finally has to pull him aside. Lying to him is… difficult. Everything about him screams genuine concern for her and self-doubt.
"Are you okay… with me?" his voice pleads for her honesty.
"Well, it's not like you haven't always told me the truth, you know?" Finally, a truth. "So… I think deep down, I just… I always knew." And… perhaps she had. In a way.
"But… how does it make you feel? Do you want to yell at me? Punch me in the face? Run away again?" Run, definitely run… but I can't. Because no one is safe while you're here.
"I… think I just wanna get back to work."
"That's all?" His eyes bore into hers, trying to find the secrets she's struggling to keep under wraps.
"That's all." And right now, my job is keeping close to you… but not so close I get burned. She turns and approaches the widow again. A moment of silence behind her.
"What the fuck?" wafts past her on a breeze, and she manages not to roll her eyes.
She manages to work the case with him in tow, flaunting his otherness at every possible opportunity. Offering up his mojo, talking about experience with torture techniques, lifting the US Marshal above his head against the wall. The terrifying moment where he single-handedly held back an accelerating SUV with nothing more substantial than his bloody grip, a demonic roar, and some bracing from a light pole.
Of course, these moments were disturbingly interspersed with achingly familiar Lucifer moments. Smirking and giggling about the victim's name ("Bob the Knob? What was he in witness protection for, bad porn?"), eating an entire enormous jar of avocado honey evidence with completely innocent innuendo, joking about hoping for more attractive suspects. Trying to draw lines between the widow finding out about her criminal husband and Chloe's reaction to his identity reveal.
He continued to contribute to solving the case, finding just the evidence required to get Pool Boy to give them information they needed to progress, drawing the fire of the Marshall and then going after him with a predatory grin and keeping him from escaping, exactly had Chloe had instructed him.
She had slipped up badly on the bridge, when he had reached out to touch her shoulder and she had reacted instinctively, pulling away with a terrified gasp, but she thought she had covered it well. He had slumped against the back of the SUV when Reynolds had stopped accelerating and had disappeared without a trace as she was getting the cuffs on him. She had gone to Lux later that night and found him, sitting now at the piano in the empty bar, hair wild, trying to play "Creep" with his damaged hands. It tugs at her heartstrings, and she feels the now-familiar stirrings of guilt as she acts out the first part of Kinley's plan.
"Lucifer, about… what I saw…"
"I've had literal eons to come to terms with what you saw," he breaks in jaggedly. His dark eyes are glazed with resignation and he takes a shuddering breath. "My… my monstrous side. But it's not all that I am. At least, I hope not. Either way, it's unfair of me to expect you to just accept it." His gaze flickers away from her and back in her direction, not meeting her eyes, "I'm honestly not sure when I'll be able to. If ever." He chuckles darkly and reaches desperately for his tumbler of whiskey, taking a steadying sip with a sigh and Chloe's heart twists with what she's about to do.
"Lucifer, what I was going to say was, what I saw…" she reaches out on impulse and rests her hand on his injured one. "was my partner." His dark eyes raise to meet hers and hold this time, and she thinks she can make out hope flaring in their depths.
"Really?" he breathes.
"Really," she nods, and feels tears of shame cloud her eyes.
"Well, then. Um, problem solved, Detective." His tone is heavy with relief and he chuckles as he continues, "Because if you can accept me then… that really is all that matters."
She left soon after, unable to maintain her front with this… this trusting creature so close beside her, willingly handing her the knives she was going to stab him with.
She heads immediately for the church that Kinley had based himself from during his excursion to Los Angeles. Walking slowly up the center aisle of the empty church, she chooses a pew and gazes at the crucified effigy at the altar. She struggles to hold back the sobs that bubble to the surface, but the battle is already lost and she braces her hands on the seat in front of her, leaning her head forward as the tears come and her breath seizes in her chest. She can't breathe for the contempt and the guilt and the terror, the ever-present suffocation of fear that has followed her since she saw that face, those burning eyes.
How can she reconcile the man she knew, the man she had been rapidly falling in love with, with that… that monster? Which is real, the man that doesn't lie, or the beast that speaks lies so well they ring like truth?
Her shuddering breaths still as a gentle hand covers hers and a familiar presence settles next to her.
"We knew this part would be difficult, Chloe," Kinley's tone is soft, gentle as it always is. "But just remember, what you're doing is the best thing for everyone on Earth. Including Lucifer."
She nods and takes a steadying breath, tears still falling. "I know."
"Are you ready for the next step?" He asks quietly.
She sniffles, stiffens her resolve. "I am," she declares.
Okay, Decker. You can do this. It only involves leading your best friend into a trap that will result in his permanent banishment from literally the only place that isn't Hell. She sits at her desk worrying her stress ball as she waits to see if Lucifer will respond to her text about the new case. She absently watches Ella skittering around her lab packing her kit in excitement, and nearly jumps out of her skin when her text alert goes off. A thumbs up and a devil emoji. Nope, not nervous about this at all.
"All you need to do is add the contents of the vial to his drink, Chloe." Kinley's smile was understanding, kindly. "I will handle everything from there when I arrive. I'll need you to accompany me as the ceremony must be performed in a very special place."
"What kind of place?" Chloe had asked nervously.
"It must be an extremely unique location: a place of worship, but also a den of sin." The priest elaborated.
Then Trixie had called, asking when she was coming home because the sitter was saying she needed to leave soon, and the meeting had ended abruptly when Chloe had realized how very late she was. At least she had managed to deflect Maze from coming around…
The sooner this is over, the sooner you can get back to being Trixie's mom, Decker. You just have to do it.
She responds to his text with a 'See you in 20' just as Ella arrives at her desk, kitted out and practically vibrating with excitement as they head out to Chloe's cruiser. The forensic technician automatically climbs into the back seat, and proceeds to regale Chloe with all 27 seasons' worth of antics on The Cabin in the time it takes to travel to Lux. Lucifer exits the building just as she pulls up to the curb, and his face lights up as he spots the car. Her stomach lurches at the undisguised joy in his expression as he slides into the passenger seat with a cheerful greeting for Ella and a warm "Hello, Detective" for her.
The drive to the set of The Cabin takes over an hour, and Ella reads out the case details that she finds in the file, which Lucifer gamely pretends to pay attention to. Chloe plays along, but she's already read over the file and her mind is far away.
How many times have they been in this car together? This close, just like now, having chats that range from simple case discussion to outright flirtation, from furious "this-is-not-how-we-behave" lectures to light-hearted banter.
Was any of it real? She's never caught him in a lie outright, but does that even mean anything? Clearly I'm not the best judge of character here, my ex-husband was a dirty-cop that gaslit me into thinking I was crazy. My ex-fiancé turned out to be a freaking immortal crime boss – oh, and also the first murderer. And then my partner, my best friend, my… my almost-lover turns out to be the actual devil… but at least he'd never lied about that.
"…isn't that right, Detective?" the lilting voice next to her asks, and she agrees absently. Lucifer snickers next to her, and Ella gives her an incredulous look.
"Oh… what did I just agree to?"
"Not sure you want to know, Decker." Ella grins, and Chloe lets it drop when Lucifer laughs harder. "Where did you go?"
"Just… thinking about the case. It's going to be a lot of people to interview, and they're all going to have their own agendas."
In a rare alignment of stars, Lucifer seems to be on the same page as she is, though he's reading a vastly different book. He actually asks her out on a date. Strangely, it was easier to accept his invitation than to make her own. He looks so pleased when she says yes that she can't help but give him a real smile. She mulls her reaction over as they head back to the station later.
Maybe it was easier to accept than to ask because it seems to rude to invite someone to their own exorcism? Is it somehow less rude to sedate and banish your partner from Earth if they invite you to the party themselves? Is this really the only course of action?
She glances over to the passenger seat, where Lucifer is eagerly researching date ideas, Ella chiming in as she watches his phone screen over his shoulder. He keeps throwing her little smiles and occasionally, completely outlandish ideas for their 'date' tonight. Chloe responds with little placating words like 'Maybe next time,' or 'How about something a little quieter?' as she tries to pretend that her internal organs aren't currently participating in a cage wrestling match. Her head aches from the tension in her jaw and her shoulders feel as though they're trapped in a vise. Can I really do this?
Kinley's voice echoes in her mind, "Every day he remains on Earth, people are in danger. Whenever he visits...death and destruction follow."
When they arrive at the precinct, Dan is packing up his desk. Lucifer breezes by him, helping Ella carry the footage she had gleefully collected from the crime scene, and Chloe stops to talk. She worries a little at how very antagonistic Dan still is toward Lucifer, and finds herself coming to Lucifer's defense against Dan again.
"People don't get shot over stolen pudding, Chloe," Dan declares flatly.
"Dan..." Chloe cajoles, shaking her head gently, "What happened with Charlotte, it wasn't Lucifer's fault." Hypocrite. Why bother defending him at all?
"Do you know what," Dan tries a smile, but can only pass off a grimace. "Here's the deal, Chloe. It was funny at first, and I was charmed just like everyone else around here. But after everything that he kept from us about Pierce… don't you even wonder what other secrets the guy's got?" he grabs the box he was packing angrily and paces away from the desk, Chloe following after him.
"Dan, he did try to tell me something was off about Pierce," she tries a different tack, still wondering to herself why she's bothering. It's not like she's going to need to play peacemaker between the two for much longer…
He whips around so quickly that she flinches away from him, and he rocks back a step, sucking in a deep breath. "No. No, he didn't. He fed you some whacked-out story about Pierce being a freaking immortal murderer, Chloe. Don't try to defend him, because you're wrong. He's got no business being here, he is not a good person."
Chloe's throat is tight as he storms away to his new desk, past bumbling McMillan who's shuttling his own boxes out to Dan's old desk, taking in the open space around him.
Ella points them toward the villain of the season, and Chloe hares after him, eager to have something, anything else to think about besides her upcoming treachery… Lucifer pulls her back from her rashness more than once, for once injecting reason into her rage- a noticeable reversal of their normal dynamic. Finally, once the camera shuts off, Judd gives them some decent information that results in them needing to interview the entire roster of participants.
During the interviews, Chloe's patience frays further, and she finds herself reacting to his typical snarky comments as she always has, with a mild elbow to the gut, or grabbing his arm to pull his attention away from an interviewee. She's probably more disturbed by the fact that these actions don't disturb her than the fact that they happen at all. When did I just accept that the devil lets me manhandle him? I just elbowed evil incarnate in the stomach and he's standing there smirking at me. Shouldn't I be a smoldering pile of greasy ash by now?
Shouldn't anyone that's annoyed him over the past few years be dead, or strung up on a rack somewhere? Pierce had literally wanted him dead for months, and all he had done to retaliate was try to warn Chloe, and when that didn't work had accepted the situation until Charlotte had been killed and Dan had found the proof in Charlotte's files. Dan had probably annoyed Lucifer the most of anyone, and all Lucifer had done to him was lightly annoy him with pranks, stolen pudding cups, and a punch to the face once on a particularly rough day.
Kinley's voice floats through her consciousness again as the interviews wrap up, "He's dangerous, Chloe. He must be returned to Hell."
Lucifer escorts the final interviewee out of the cabin and Chloe rests her head against her forearms, bemoaning the fact they're getting nowhere in their case. He makes a comment about debunking stereotypes and she pounces on the opportunity to ask some questions, which he eagerly agrees to answer. Her questions seem to unsettle him, and she tries not to notice the happiness draining from him at her chosen topics. The questions burn her throat as they erupt from her, and she ruthlessly ignores the hurt and consternation in his eyes as she baldly asks him about biting the heads off children, how many murders he's been responsible for, and how much he enjoyed torturing people in Hell.
"It was a job, Detective, something I was forced to do." He corrects her quietly, his dark eyes intense with an emotion she can't quite place. He shakes his head a little, forces a chuckle. "Gosh. Someone's been reading Dante's Inferno."
She brushes off the questioning as just trying to debunk some of the reading she had done on vacation, and he watches her carefully, but doesn't question her as they go on with the case.
Back at the precinct, she watches Lucifer chatting excitedly with Ella and makes a decision.
Based solely on the case, of course.
She asks Lucifer to postpone their plans, and he… well, he never has been very good at hiding his emotions. His disappointment flares, but he agrees it's best to finish the case first. She retreats back to her desk nearly before he can finish speaking and texts Father Kinley to meet her at the lighthouse.
The priest has accurately read her hesitation, and has come prepared with more counters to her observations and questions, all delivered in that same utterly reasonable, soft-spoken voice, complete with constant and intense eye contact, and her blood runs cold as she suddenly recognizes the mannerisms.
He's a fanatic. She locks her face into a listening expression and she responds on autopilot as her brain and body are suddenly flooded with adrenaline. Oh God, what have I done? This guy is a radical priest specifically targeting my partnerand I've not only led him right to him, I've given him the key to get to him!
Crushing guilt swamps her and she struggles to hold her receptive expression in place. How do I talk him down until I can warn Lucifer? How am I going to warn Lucifer? He's never going to trust me once I tell him about this.. and he shouldn't, but I need him to believe me about how dangerous Kinley is…
She lets indecision infiltrate her voice as she gives her final defense,
"No, no. Lucifer always tells the truth, always. He does not lie."
"What if this is the biggest lie of all?"
She capitulates, agreeing to reschedule her 'date' with Lucifer after the case is complete, and she can feel his suspicious gaze as Kinley watches her leave. She shudders when she gets back to her cruiser, wrapping her arms around herself in a cold embrace before heading home to Trixie, that she left with a sitter again.
Okay Decker… you went the wrong way on this, now how are you going to get out of the situation without anyone getting hurt? You've bought yourself some time, now figure it out while you finish the case. Now first things first, go take care of Trixie.
She unlocks the door to her apartment and slips inside. The sitter is perched on one of the stools by the bar, already packed up and ready to go. Chloe checks her phone, dammit, late again. Well, that's gonna stop now.
She apologizes profusely to the sitter, and gives her an extra $30 on top of her overtime fee. She sees her to the door, locking it securely and takes off her blazer and boots, leaving them by the door before going to Trixie's room to check on her.
The little nightlamp is on, and Trixie is curled on her side, snuffling quietly as she breathes. Chloe slips inside and perches on the side of the bed, lightly brushing back the bedraggled strands of her daughter's hair that have tossed themselves across her face in her sleep. Her phone is clutched in one hand, and Chloe plucks it from her slack fingers, taking it back into the kitchen to plug into the charging station. She sees a notification from an unknown number and flicks the screen to open it.
Srsly? Wrong #
Chloe opens the messaging app and finds a series of messages all sent to familiar-looking numbers, all local, all with just a few words.
Is this Lucifer?
While Chloe had been so busy trying to eradicate the devil from Earth, her daughter has been texting dozens of random people trying to talk to him. The numbers are all similar, and pretty close to Lucifer's actual number that Chloe had deleted from Trixie's phone (along with Maze's) when they returned from Rome. Her chest burns as she recalls scrolling through their message threads before deleting them entirely. The last exchange had been the night before they left for Rome, before Chloe had even thought of protecting Trixie's phone.
Lucifer?
Yes, Urchin? You know you needn't start each exchange with just my name, right?
I know.
Well, out with it. What is it you wanted?
When can we do game night again? It's your turn to paint my cheek, and I get to pick the songs for karaoke.
Nothing would make me happier than to attend another game night, Beatrice, but I think you need to ask your mother. She may have some very good reasons for you not to spend much time with me anymore.
Now you're just being silly. You're family.
Yes, well. My answer stands. The Detective always has the final decision, Offspring.
OK I'll ask. See you soon! ILY!
ILY? I don't understand what that means. Autocorrect?
Urchin?
Her eyes start to burn as she blinks back tears. Of course the devil didn't know what 'ILY' means. She should have realized that Trixie would have at least partially recalled his phone number, their history had been a mile long. All the mundane, average things with which a 10-year-old would pester an adult they trusted. And always he would respond. Patiently. With rough affection, and with words rather than emojis, something he only does rarely, and mostly only with his brother, who claims a complete inability to decipher Lucifer's strings of emojis. Chloe takes the phone and removes the parental block she had placed for Lucifer's number, adding it back into her contacts and only hesitates a moment before doing the same for Maze's. She no sooner plugs it back into the charger when the screen lights up with another notification. Chloe smiles, probably another response to the string of queries her tenacious daughter had sent out. She looks at the display and tears she's managed to hold back finally spill over.
Yes, of course. Did someone change all the names of your contacts, Urchin? Tell me, what did they change mine to? ?
Trixie had guessed his number correctly at some point. Of course she had. Her clever little Monkey. She leaves the notification unread, feeling confident in this decision at least- the first in a long time. She can give Trixie her friends back. And she broadcasts the hope to whoever might be listening that her own actions haven't burned her bridges with those same friends permanently.
The next morning she watches Lucifer's gleeful entrance to the precinct from the shelter of Ella's lab. Every observation only solidifies her decision to stop working with Kinley and protect her partner. He comes bearing coffee, donuts, special treats for every person he greets with a compliment or a friendly joke. She watches Dan glaring daggers at him from under the stairs and tries to ignore the twisting in her gut as Lucifer enters the room with coffees for her and Ella.
The technician's findings lead them back to the filming location, to speak with Maury Novak, the executive producer. Now the roles are reversed from their earlier visit with Judd, Chloe reeling Lucifer back away from his eagerness to make an arrest so they can go on their date. He walks away in a huff as Chloe and Maury go in search of Kylie.
They find her on the monitors piping propane gas into the cabin just as Lucifer walks inside to find a quiet place to cool down from his agitated state. She watches her partner sitting calmly on the table on one monitor while Kylie flicks a lighter on another and throws it inside, she sees the tiny sputtering flame slide across the floor and Lucifer's head start to turn as he notices. The horror rises in her throat with her scream as the screen holding her partner snows into static as the monitor showing the front view of the cabin erupts into a blazing conflagration, blowing out the windows with billowing orange tongues of flame and roiling black smoke.
"Nooooooo!" The cry rips itself from her body with the force of the explosion and all she can do is stare for a long moment, torn between sobbing and laughing hysterically.
It doesn't even matter that I couldn't call off Kinley. He got second-degree burns when Sol de Javier burned down, there's no way he could survive this!
But then, from the flaming interior she sees a shape, traveling unaffected through the flame like a dark phoenix, or a demon, he emerges.
"How is he doing that?" She breathes, and her body is in motion before she can even make a conscious decision. He's patting down his smoldering jacket when she reaches him, gasping.
"I wouldn't go in there, Detective," he greets her jauntily, "It's hotter than...Well, you know."
"Yeah," she responds dazedly, "It blew up. I - I saw it. I...I was so scared, but you... You walked right through. You're fine. I... You're completely fine."
He looks at her, quizzical. "Well, it's one of the perks of living in a fiery pit of despair most of my life?"
She nods her head faintly, heart still racing at what she had witnessed, at what she had felt in that moment. Devastation. A loss so profound it couldn't even begin to be quantifiable. Her brain processes that realization in the background while their new lead suspect comes running up and apologizes as Chloe reads her rights and conducts the interview.
"Well then, I guess that's case closed." Lucifer steps forward, watching as Kylie is led away.
"Yeah."
He turns to look at her with a smile that rapidly falls. "Detective, I understand that you and me, it's… the last thing I want to do is push you into something you don't want. So, if you're not ready, or you don't want to go on a date with me…" His expression is open, honest, and his breathing is a little shaky as his voice trails off.
"No, I do." She confirms, her brain providing her recent realization as rock-solid evidence that she's making the right decision this time. "I do want to."
"Really?" She nods, and a smaller smile reappears on his face. "Right, well, why don't you go home and get some rest, and I'll pick you up around 7?"
"Um, why don't I just meet you at your place?" Privacy is going to be paramount for this conversation…
"Even better," his smile widens until his eyes crinkle at their corners. He nods, and she flees.
Chloe enters the elevator at Lux and presses the button for Lucifer's penthouse, swaying restlessly the entire ride up. The door chimes as it opens onto an unexpectedly simple scene. She removes her shoes out of habit, then smiles and steps forward, smiling nervously.
"Hi, Lucifer."
"Detective, you look beautiful." He sounds flustered, as though his breath has been stolen away, and he takes a deep breath after those few words fall from his lips. She smirks to herself, deciding to enjoy these last few moments of camaraderie while they last. Apparently even the devil gets nervous.
"Thank you," she chuckles anxiously. "No white tablecloth this time?"
"Ah," he surveys his low table, set for two with comfortable places to sit on the floor. "No, well, that went down like a pork chop at a kosher wedding, so I made some adjustments."
"Of course you did," she agrees.
"If you don't respond favorably to something, well, he'll make an adjustment until you do. Anything to make sure he gets what he wants. Because the only person that he is interested in is himself."
Of course he's not going to remind me of that situation, with Pierce and everything horrible that was happening then. What kind of an idiot wouldn't make an adjustment after a fiasco like that? It would be insanity to try to repeat it with a better result.
"Please, sit!" he invites cheerfully. He crosses the room and removes the covers from two plates with a flourish, bringing them to the table as he continues speaking. "I made you grilled cheese, your favorite. And not the fancy smelly stuff, just the yummy orange kind that you like." They both chuckle, and she struggles to come up with the courage to do what she needs to do. He pours them each a glass of wine, and takes a deep breath. "Detective, there is something I'd like to say to you. Whilst I... realize that knowing the truth about me may not be easy for you... I am glad that there are no secrets between us now. And if you ever have any more questions, I shall be happy to answer any and all of them. I've always been honest with you, Detective. And I always will be."
"Lucifer, I need to-" Chloe begins with a tremulous smile, just as he exclaims -
"Oh!" He laughs, as he jumps up from his seat. "Sorry. Silly me. I forgot the music. I made a playlist full of bad '90s jams for you."
"Lucifer, can I use your restroom, please?" she calls as he darts off into the depths of the apartment to start the music.
"Of course, darling, you know where it is."
She takes the vial from her pocket and sets it in plain view by her plate, then darts off to the restroom where she can hyperventilate for a moment and stare at herself in the mirror. She jumps as the music starts blaring, and giggles to herself as she hears his shouted apology at having left it so loud.
He's probably noticed the vial by now, Decker, so you can't chicken out, she thinks smugly to herself. Of course he'll ask about it, and you'll have to tell him what you were going to do.
She splashes some cool water on her face and pats it dry with the insanely soft towel hanging on the rack before exiting back to the sitting room, where Lucifer is standing by the table with his glass of wine in his hand.
"Shall we toast, Detective? To another case closed?" he reaches down to gather her glass to offer her and she notices the vial is in a different place on the table, nearly tucked out of sight, in fact. She takes her glass absently and reaches for the vial, noticing immediately that it's nearly empty now as she lifts it in her hand.
As though in slow-motion, she sees Lucifer lifting his glass to his lips in a toast, and she does the first thing that comes to mind- she flings out her hand and knocks the glass from his hand with her second, desperately shouted "No!" in the past 24 hours.
The glass tumbles to the Italian marble floor, eclipsing the background music in a cacophony of shattering shards scattering in every direction.
"Detective! What on-" He scrambles to start picking up the razor-like shards, glancing anxiously at her bare feet. "Be careful darling, don't move 'til I get this – ouch!"
"Damn," his palm is gashed and gushing blood as he tucks his hand close to him, bringing it to his mouth to suck on the wound. He pulls a sizable piece of glass from the cut and squeezes it carefully, hissing at the stinging pain.
"You're bleeding?" She asks, confused.
"I'm fine," he laughs, "I'm fine. Fine. Don't move, Detective, your feet!" He gets up and crosses to the bar, keeping the wound pressed to his mouth until he can grab a towel to staunch the flow.
"You're bleeding!" Chloe parrots herself, mind whirling.
"I'm fine!" he repeats again, as though saying it again will make it so.
"You're bleeding and no, no it's not fine!" He makes a sound of distress as she disregards his request to hold still and carefully crosses the room after him. She approaches, takes his bleeding hand in hers, and gazes at the blood now soaking the white linen. "It's...You know what, y-yes, I do have a question for you. How is it that you walk away from a giant, fiery explosion without a scratch, but right now you are bleeding? You... You were shot in the hand last week. You almost died when Malcolm shot you in the gut. I mean, I shot you. I shot you. And I felt horribly about that, by the way. But what... is this?" Now she's not only concerned, but getting angry. There is something wrong here and she doesn't understand what it is and all of that fear and anger and confusion and guilt just comes pouring from her in a wave. "Is anything even real with you? Were... Were you trying to manipulate me? W-Were you trying to make me feel bad? Wh...Is this all to make me care about you more?"
"No," he breathes, aghast.
"Then what? How is it that sometimes you don't get hurt and then, other times, you do? What is the difference?" She squeezes her hand around the towel, and he hisses, the wound stinging quite badly by now.
"You are, Detective." He doesn't hesitate with his answer, doesn't remove his gaze from her accusing eyes, though his are now shadowed with something like awe. "I don't fully understand why, but... I'm only vulnerable when I'm close to you." He chuckles ironically, "Which is why there was no 'almost' about my dying when Malcolm shot me. He really did kill me… I was just lucky dear old Dad needed me back here to do a little job for him, so he brought me back after agreeing to a little deal."
Chloe is about to pursue that little nugget when her phone chimes. She pulls it from her pocket automatically and checks it. "It's a text from Ella to call her immediately."
Lucifer just watches her, waiting to see what she will do. She stares back into his eyes for a moment, weighing her decision. She's got the mostly empty vial now, so even if Kinley is still here, he won't be able to try to poison Lucifer again. If she leaves, he'll be perfectly safe, because apparently he can only be harmed when he's around her… and isn't that just a whole new rabbit hole of guilt to explore in her free time –
One catastrophe at a time, Decker. Lucifer's safe for now, follow up with the case, the rest can wait.
She dials the phone. New information on the case, a new lead. She knows who the killer is.
"I'll call you from the car, okay?" She speaks into the receiver, and hangs up the phone.
"Detective..." Lucifer begins, but she cuts him off.
"No, no, no. I think I should do this on my own. For now." She's in the elevator, pressing the button for the garage level, slipping her boots back on as the door closes. You stay here and stay safe, she doesn't say.
Back on site at The Cabin filming location, she confronts the cameraman with her warrant to search his equipment, and quickly finds the battery with the blood traces on it. He spins his sob story about working constantly while everyone around him gets to take it easy, playing the game as he approaches her, axe held high. She draws her gun as he flings the axe and a staggering, familiar shape stumbles in front of her with a slurred, "Detective, no!"
The axe collides with a sickening crunching noise and the body drops with an agonized grunt. She fires, hitting the axe-wielding cameraman in the leg and on-site security comes to haul him away as she drops to her knees beside her partner. His chest is flailing in desperate attempts to pull in breaths as blood bubbles with horrible sucking sounds from the wound and his lips. She calls frantically for a medic, and hears the call echoed outside.
"You idiot!" she sobs, cradling his head on her lap, her hand pressed to chest to monitor his racing heartbeat. "You just told me you already died once for me… are you so eager to try it again?"
"Again," he agrees soundlessly, lips moving without producing the word. His dark eyes are locked on hers as though she's all he ever wants to see again. "And… again. Don't… you know… that, Detective?"
"No-"
Medics swarm them, pulling her away, stabilizing the axe protruding from his chest and working to get him transported to the nearest trauma center.
"He's my partner, I need to go with him." What will happen if he becomes invulnerable while they're trying to save his life? She wonders desperately, how close to I need to be? She doesn't know, and she's terrified to find out, she has to stay close.
"Blood pressure's dropping!"
"Oxygen in place!
"Get that IV in, we need to get his pressure up!"
The EMTs shout at each other as they wheel Lucifer to the ambulance, Chloe sticking close by but out of the way. The doors close. The sirens wail.
Chloe fights not to do the same.