Chapter 11
He'd been concentrating on tending the Detective's wounds so diligently that he hadn't noticed when she'd slipped into… whatever state she's in. He'd looked up at her triumphantly when he'd finished the bandages, only to find her staring blankly at him, lips parted and pupils blown wide.
Ah, of course, the drugs. She must have gotten the good stuff, he smirks to himself, or she's merely a total lightweight. Not surprising, that.
"Detective?" he repeats her title several times, gently rubbing her hands between his and growing more concerned with each insistent repetition until she finally seems to come back to herself. Her hands tighten in his and he feels a wash of relief as they tug him toward her. Some wisps of hair are already escaping her hasty bun, and he's tempted to sweep them behind her ear, but that would involve letting go of her hands and he has no desire to do that. When she doesn't speak, though, his concern grows. "Did I hurt you? Are the wraps too tight? I was trying not to—"
She darts forward without warning and claims his mouth with her own. Her lips are soft and warm against his, and Lucifer tells himself that he doesn't withdraw because she's still pulling him forward. His wide mahogany eyes find hers watching him intently before she presses closer, and he takes a slow shuddering breath as the scent of her surrounds him. She releases one of his hands and just as he starts to remember why he should be pulling away, her hand slides up the back of his neck and glosses through the soft new growth of hair there. He loses his battle with his self-control, melting into the kiss with a soft sound of contentment blooming in the back of his throat. Everywhere she touches, his new skin suddenly feels engulfed in heat all over again, only this time it's a new and entirely pleasant sensation.
His lips part at her tongue's gentle insistence as he leans into her—
"Detective Decker?"
They both jerk back, Lucifer's eyes flickering dazedly toward the unfamiliar voice sounding from somewhere near the piano. The inquiry is obscured by the rushing of his heartbeat echoing in his ears, and the unexpected sight of Chloe staring back at him, eyes wide and dark with lips slightly parted. They blink themselves out of their daze slowly, Chloe reaching functionality first.
"Yeah, Evans, I'm here!" She calls without moving away or breaking eye contact, her voice perhaps a little higher than it would normally be. "Be right out, just changing my bandages." She leans in and lowers her voice so she's practically breathing her next words, lips brushing his still ringing ear, "Stay here, it's just the security detail briefing. I'll let you know when it's clear."
He nods absently, agreeing, but not really processing anything beyond the request to stay. She gives him another quick kiss and he helps her struggle stiffly into a shirt before she briskly exits the room to greet her security detail, leaving his head spinning in her wake. His tongue flickers out to moisten his lips and he tastes her lingering presence.
What on earth was she thinking, kissing me? What was I thinking, going along with it? He rubs the back of his neck, dispelling the ghostly presence and heat of her fingers trailing there.
"Hey Evans. Ohhh, Dawson, you drew the short straw today, huh?" her joking tone is met with low chuckles and footsteps. "Have you heard anything more about the investigation? I got a message from Ramey late yesterday to call him back for my interview, but these pain meds have really been kicking my ass."
"Is it the pain meds, Decker, or have you been finding some stuff here in your partner's pad to help you out?" the first officer jests. Evans. Lucifer's hackles prickle, but Chloe just laughs, an easy burst of mirth, so he must be a good enough acquaintance to make a joke like that without giving offense. "You feeling okay? Need anything?"
"Nah, I'm okay, Evans. The hospital sent me with all the supplies I need. I'm only here instead of my apartment because Lucifer's brother pops in from time to time with updates, and the bouncers on the door give a little bit of extra security—not that you guys aren't capable," she adds earnestly, while Lucifer snorts softly to himself as he slowly starts to re-roll the remaining lengths of bandages and pack them back into the canvas bag from the hospital.
"The word I got this morning was that there is no update," a rich tenor supplies smoothly, and Lucifer's eyebrows raise in recognition. Emil. A soft smile touches his lips as he pictures the young man trying to keep his striking green eyes modestly away from the bar, where they'd spent that absolutely lovely evening doing— "Do you have any info on Lucifer? They said he was hurt really bad."
The Devil finds himself sitting straighter in surprise at the actual concern in Emil's tone. Certainly, they'd had a good time together, well… more than one, of course. The Devil is a generous lover, after all. But the genuine regard there touches him deeply, and he finds himself adrift for a moment. It seems to throw Chloe for a loop as well, as it takes her a moment to respond.
"He's recovering," she finally says, quietly. "His burns weren't quite as bad as they thought initially. The burn recovery unit he transferred to has a really high success rate, and top-quality cosmetic surgeons to help once he's healed enough. Lucifer heals really quickly, remember when he got shot during that kidnapping case?"
He certainly remembers. He brushes his fingertips against his right thigh where the bullet had grazed him… and he'd bled. A new and incredibly confusing phenomenon, and he'd been eager to explore it once he'd gotten past the initial shock.
"And the time he got burned during the restaurant fire!" Evans pipes up obliviously, "He was acting like it never even happened just a day or two later! I guess it's a good thing he does heal fast, since he keeps getting injured."
Fast healing indeed. He glances at himself in the mirror, grimacing as he runs his palm fretfully over the scant length of hair that he's managed to regrow in his recovery. At least the bloody itching stage is over and done with. It had lasted centuries in Hell. A day was nothing in comparison, but he feels his skin crawl in remembrance.
"Yeah…" There's a heaviness in Chloe's tone that Lucifer doesn't like, and Evans the Oblivious picks up on it as well.
"Aw, hey Decker, you said it yourself, he's gonna be fine! Ramey and Ryan are great, they'll find whoever's after you, and we'll keep you safe until they do!" A low sniffle. "Well, we just needed to check in with the shift change. You want us to do a sweep?"
"Uh, no," Chloe says just a shade too quickly to be casual, and Lucifer chuckles silently to himself. For a former actress, his Detective is terrible at subterfuge when her heart isn't in it. "I've got my service weapon, and uh, you know, Lucifer's kinda fussy about his space, so… no sweep necessary, I'm good."
"Alright," Emil replies, slightly reluctantly as he registers her sudden surge of nerves. "I'll be just downstairs if you need me. And the LT told me to remind you to call Ramey."
"Right," Chloe agrees quickly, her voice accompanied by retreating footsteps as she escorts them to the elevator. "I'll call him now. I'll need to be at the courthouse later for the Perry trial, so maybe he can meet me there and do my interview before we come back here. Thanks guys, I know it's dull work, but I appreciate it."
"Anytime, Decker. We've got your back."
Lucifer snorts quietly to himself again. Maybe they have her back now. Where were these bastards a year ago when she really needed them? If she'd had support then, she wouldn't have needed me. She wouldn't have been forced to rely on the Devil, forced to invite me into her life.
Did she really invite you, though? The thought arrives at the back of his mind and wriggles there like a parasitic worm. Did she invite you, or did you break down the door and make yourself comfortable? Make yourself part of her life, whether she willed it or no? Did you even give her a chance to refuse you?
He had. Surely, he had? Once he'd figured out she was the source of his vulnerability, he'd kept his distance for weeks. He'd been utterly miserable, but he'd managed it just fine until she'd come to him, with a case she said she needed him for. Later, when Malcolm and his brother had framed him for those heinous murders, she had chosen to trust him, to put her faith in the Devil, her partner. She'd taken pains to make certain they could continue to work together, despite the fact that he'd been fully prepared to let Amenadiel take him back to Hell.
They'd spent more time together with each case, learning about each other's habits, histories, and mannerisms. They'd shared a few deeply personal moments in that time, and the more he'd opened up to her, the more she'd let him in… the warmer she had become. It… isn't what he's come to expect, in his vast experience. He realizes he's been waiting for the shoe to drop.
Waiting to see how I'm going to sabotage myself this time, eh?
He stares into his own eyes in the mirror, a quiet breath huffing through his lips as she appears back in the room.
"They're gone," she informs him unnecessarily. He'd heard the elevator doors closing, and her sole footsteps approaching, of course. She comes to stand next to him, her shoulder brushing against his arm and her eyes finding his in the mirror. "You okay?"
"Yes, of course," he responds automatically. His chest suddenly feels tight and he steps back a little, giving them space to breathe. "You should contact the detectives about the bombing, so they know to meet you at the courthouse, Detective."
"Oh, right," she grabs for her phone, distracted. "Thanks, Lucifer. I'll do that now, before I forget. Be right back."
She walks into the next room as she scrolls for the contact for Ramey, and he nods with determination as his eyes meet his gaze in the mirror again. He knows what he needs to do.
"Ramey." He answers the call with his typical short courtesy. He sits back in his chair and rubs a palm over the side of his face and grimaces at the unpleasant rasp of bristly stubble. Another night worked through. The pressure is on for this case, with the target being a fellow cop.
"Detective Ramey, this is Detective Chloe Decker," the voice is unfamiliar, but not the name. "I wanted to see if you would be able to meet me at the courthouse a little later today for my statement?"
The Perry trial. He's been reviewing files all night, trying to find a connection between O'Neil the bomber and former deputy-warden Perry. He'd been handed the Sokolov case as well, since there was a strong suspicion that the two cases are connected. They've already got some evidence of O'Neil building bombs for the Russian mob, which has ties to Sokolov. It's obvious that Perry has connections with the Chinese mob, but without Sokolov, he can't quite make the connection between Perry and O'Neil. It has to be Perry. How strong of a connection does the Triad have to Perry, to compel them to take out Sokolov and use him to make a statement just to save Perry's skin? And why draw extra attention by trying to take out Decker when she's not even a key witness? He's got his suspicions about Charlotte Richards' involvement, but she doesn't have a tie in to Perry at all, only to O'Neil. Despite her borderline stalking behavior with Morningstar, he can't find any other reason she would want to target Decker. Ramey pinches the bridge of his nose and looks over at Ryan, who fell asleep on a file a couple of hours ago.
I remember when I could do that and still be able to move the next day, he thinks wryly to himself, tossing a pen at his partner. Ryan jolts awake and looks at Ramey quizzically, his sandy hair falling into his bleary eyes.
Decker, he mouths, and his partner nods, understanding.
"Yeah, Detective Decker, thanks for getting back with me. How are you healing? Is the security detail treating you right?"
"I have a new appreciation for the bravery of firefighters," Decker replies lightly. "My burns are fairly superficial, and they hurt like Hell. The security detail has been great—I'm actually staying at my partner's place while he's in recovery, since he has a couple extra layers of security already in place."
"Any updates on Morningstar's condition?"
"Just that he's recovering. He's at least awake, but..." Concern edges her voice and Ramey remembers the blast report, the witness statements of how Morningstar had run toward the car shouting in the moments before the blast.
He knew or saw something. His stomach turns as he recalls the smell of burned flesh that had hung over the scene like a noxious curtain.
"It'll probably be a while before he's lucid," he offers sympathetically. "With any luck, we'll have this wrapped up before we have to disturb his recovery."
"Hmm." She doesn't elaborate further, and he decides to just plow ahead.
"What time does the trial resume? Can you meet beforehand?"
"It's supposed to resume around 10:30. I can get there early, do you think 9 would give us enough time?"
Ramey checks his phone, it's 7:30 now. "Let's shoot for 9, Detective. Meet at the coffee cart outside?"
"See you there, Ramey. Thanks for the flexibility." The call disconnects and Ramey pockets his phone, chuckling as his partner stretches and ruefully rubs the small of his back.
"Feeling that little snooze, are we?"
"I'm gettin' coffee," Ryan mutters grumpily, walking stiffly to the breakroom. Ramey barks another laugh as a grumble about 'smug old man' drifts back to him.
"Detective Ramey!" Espinoza stumbles up to his desk, looking desperate. "We found Sokolov's body, along with Da Yung's. We found out from the Triad that Perry hired him to go behind the Triad's back to kill Boris, knowing that they'd punish him for it."
Damn. No proof of connection to the Russians, then. And with Da Yung dead, not likely to get it.
"Who's 'we'?" Ramey asks suspiciously, "I didn't get any notifications about a break in the Sokolov case, Espinoza."
"Mazikeen Smith contacted me last night with a lead. If I hadn't gone with her, she's just the type to go on her own, so I figured—"
"Smith the bounty hunter?" Ramey's eyebrows lift in surprise. Ryan returns from the breakroom, slurping his too-hot coffee. "What's she doing looking for Sokolov's body? There's no bounty out."
"She's Chloe's roommate, and a friend of Lucifer's."
Good grief, what have they got going on over there in Homicide? It seems like an HR nightmare, and Ramey immediately decides to keep his nearly-retiring age nose out of it. Solve the case and wash your hands, Theo.
"All right, Espinoza, tell us what you found."
"You're shutting me out," Chloe finally points out in exasperation, after half an hour of nothing but distant politeness interspersed with tense silences. She's finished getting dressed, and she's ready to head for the courthouse for her statement. She'd been alternating between trying to approach Lucifer and trying to get him to talk to her about their kiss, but he's been deftly deflecting all attempts. She licks her lips nervously, and can still taste a trace of his whiskey there. "Why are you being weird now?"
"I am not," he replies petulantly, eyeing her warily from across the room. "You've… had an incredibly stressful few days, and you haven't had your coffee yet this morning. I'm… being prudent."
"You're being weird," Chloe refutes, too annoyed to be anything other than blunt right now. A cold, creeping feeling had been crawling up her back since he'd carefully stepped away from her once she'd re-entered the bathroom. She'd had a wonderful fluttering feeling in her stomach up until then, halfway hoping they'd be able to pick up where they'd left off, but he'd gone back to placing distance between them. She needs to know why. "Did I… make you uncomfortable?"
"You think you made me uncomfortable?" His brow lifts in disbelief, and she takes a moment to appreciate the rapid return of his eyebrows and eyelashes… then has to fight not to get lost in the memory of the silky softness of his newly grown hair under her fingers. "I'm the Devil darling, it would take far more than a simple kiss to discomfit me."
"Is that what it was?" she challenges, and though his mouth opens, no reply emerges. A surge of satisfaction courses through her. He doesn't lie. "Was it? A simple kiss?"
"Well," he begins, and seems to get stuck. She takes a few slow steps closer as he searches for words. "I mean, yes, at its core—"
"Did you not want to kiss me?" More steps. Less space.
"That's a bloody absurdity, Detective, and it doesn't merit a response," he scoffs, holding the tumbler of whiskey in his hand so tightly his knuckles shine white through his perfectly healed skin. "You've been fully aware that I've wanted to do much more than merely kiss you since I met you."
"Then what's the problem?" She arrives at the bar, and he glances down at it carefully, much like one would eye a thin wire fence between themselves and a hungry tiger.
"As I said, you have had… a life-altering experience recently, Detective. You're injured. You're…" he sighs, and seems to fold into himself, "heavily medicated, and you've also just been exposed to a rather large dose of divinity in the form of my… newly regrown feathered appendages. I think it's safe to assume you're not quite back to yourself."
"Not myself? What are you even… because I kissed you? Wait." Her face crumples as a thought occurs to her. "Are you keeping your distance because you still think I'm going to run?"
"That's not the only reason, but it is still a very real possibility," he admits quietly. "I also don't want to encourage any behavior you're likely to regret, and you do seem to be on some very strong pain medication. The last time you tried to kiss me, you were intoxicated and you were thoroughly mortified when you sobered up." A small smile touches his lips at the treasured memory of her horrified awakening in his bed before it slips away with another soft sigh. "I thought… it might be worse if you came back to yourself and realized you'd actually snogged the Devil himself. It would be wrong of me to encourage that— it was wrong of me to even allow it."
"I already know you're the Devil, though!" She manages not to stomp her foot for emphasis, but it's a close thing.
"Yes, but you haven't seen it," he argues, annoyingly calm. "Until I can show you… you truly can't understand what it means."
"Is this whatever you were going to show me, the night the car blew up?" A vision fills her mind of ancient, unhealed burns and glowing red eyes. "When you wanted me to take you somewhere I felt safe?"
"It is," he nods stiffly. "As much as I don't want to, you have to know. It's the only way to really show you what I am… to show you why you deserve so much better."
"Lucifer… I saw your wings last night. I saw them again this morning! I believe you, okay? I… I get that you're not human." She doesn't even consider telling him she's seen his supposed proof of his monstrousness. He'd been so terrified to see her when he'd awakened yesterday… when he'd been wearing that face. He'd been afraid of her. Because he was afraid she would leave?
"Yes, you now have seen adequate proof that I'm not human, but you don't understand yet that I am the Devil!"
Her alarm cuts through his final, almost shouted words and she fumbles to shut it off, cursing under her breath. She doesn't have time to address this now. "Dammit, I have to go give my statement. I'm coming back after the trial, and we're going to have this conversation, Lucifer."
"Yes, very well," he acknowledges quietly. "If I am not here when you return, you are welcome to wait if you like."
"Aren't you supposed to be keeping out of the public eye?"
"I will be, not to worry," he grimaces and empties the glass in his hand. "I need to confer with my mother and brother, now that I have a means to get them back to the Silver City. The sooner I deal with that, the safer you'll be." He sets down his empty tumbler and Chloe tries to reach out to catch his hand, but he slips gracefully away. "Please don't direct the investigation team toward Mum, Detective. She's dangerous, and… I don't want anyone to get hurt. Let me handle Her."
"Because She's not dangerous to you?" Chloe snaps sarcastically, glaring at him when he snickers.
"Oh, She's just as dangerous to me—perhaps even more so—because She actually pretends to love me." He shakes his head, turning partially away from her to choose another decanter and hide the flicker of pain that crosses his face. "But She also needs me to get what She wants, so I'll be fine."
"You're not… intending to actually do anything today, are you? Like… start Her plan, or whatever?" Sudden apprehension grips her tightly.
"I'll leave the planning up to Her," Lucifer shakes his head and the worry loosens its grip a little. "Though I would expect Her to come up with something within the week. She's been in a bit of a rush."
And it's back. She sets her jaw against the pulse of anxiety, and meets his eyes squarely.
"Just… please don't do anything until we've had a chance to talk, okay?"
He regards her quietly for a moment before he answers, and she wonders what it is he's looking for in her expression. He must find it, because finally, he nods, then gestures toward the elevator. "Very well Detective. You'd best be on your way now, you've got a big day ahead of you. I am… sorry I'm unable to be there to support you and Penelope."
The trial. She blinks. How could I forget the trial? She desperately wants a hug—like the one that had so soothed her after they'd initially caught Perry. One glance at her partner's stiff countenance tells her that she won't get one… at least not this morning. She offers a sad half-smile instead.
"Lucifer, you're the reason I'm still here to attend it," she reminds him forcefully, and his eyes flicker away. She chokes up a little as she continues. "You're the reason my Mom doesn't have to attend this trial alone, the reason that Trixie still has a Mom. You always support me when it counts."
"Detective…"
"I've got to go. I'll… I'll see you later though, okay?" She turns and flees the room before she's blinded by tears, feeling the weight of his dark gaze on her until the elevator doors close behind her.
Lucifer stands in his empty flat, staring morosely at the silver doors. He'd made her cry, again.
If not for me, she wouldn't have been at risk in the first place. He glances out toward the balcony and sighs heavily. Time to speak to Gabriel, then go see Mum.
Chapter 12
Chloe finds an empty bench within view of the coffee cart outside the courthouse and settles down to people watch as she waits for her coffee and watches for Ramey and his partner's arrival. She brushes her fingertips absently over the white expanse of her bandages as her eyes skim the bustling crowds of people as they pass by.
She glances at the clock above the courtyard, wondering how late her mother will be without her there to nudge along her preparations this morning. She'd had a brief conversation with Trixie this morning while Dawson was navigating the drive over. Her daughter had been delighted to hear that Lucifer was feeling better, then disappointed that her mother wasn't with him so she could talk with him herself.
"Detective Decker, good morning." Detective Ramey appears before her and she blinks up at him, backlit by the bright Los Angeles morning. His partner approaches and stands beside him, gingerly holding a steaming coffee cup from the cart. "This is my partner, Detective Keith Ryan."
"Ryan!" Chloe smiles, her blue eyes lighting. "I hadn't heard you'd made the promotion, congratulations!"
"Thanks, Decker, it's pretty recent," Ryan smiles thinly down at her, his eyes lingering on the bandages covering her arms. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm definitely ready for people to stop asking how I'm feeling!" Chloe insists vehemently, and the three of them laugh together. She nods toward her bandaged arms. "I'll be able to remove these within a few days, a week at most. I got off pretty lightly, really, thanks to..." She stops and clears her throat, looks down at the paper cup cradled in her lightly trembling hands. It's just the caffeine. "But you boys have some questions for me, so we'd better get started because I don't want to miss any of this trial, and I'd like to be done before my mother shows up."
"Fair enough," Ramey nods. Chloe scoots toward the armrest of the bench and the two men sit next to her to begin their interview. "Let's start with you walking us through that night. Who knew you were going to the restaurant?"
"Lucifer invited me, so obviously he knew. I told Dan where I'd be, since he had Trixie for the evening. It was kind of a last-minute invite, and it wasn't a big deal, so I didn't really tell anyone else. I was at the restaurant for a while waiting, because Lucifer was late. His therapy session ran long."
"Do you know if Lucifer told anyone?"
"He might have mentioned it to his therapist in passing, but he came straight to the restaurant from that appointment. Beyond that I don't know. I've been thinking, and I can't remember seeing anyone out of place around my car at any point, either, but I'm sure you've already checked with the valet at the restaurant."
"Yeah, we did. We figured you would have already said something if you had," Ramey nods, and Ryan sighs disappointedly. "You don't strike me as the type to notice something odd and not follow up on it. The valet didn't notice anyone around your car either."
Chloe manages not to laugh nervously. How many times had she noticed 'odd' things about Lucifer, and just let them slide, or ignored them completely? But… she can admit she has a bit of a blind spot when it comes to Lucifer. She can admit, now, that she's had suspicions about the truths he's been telling her for a while now. She'd come so close to testing that blood swab all those months ago… and had ultimately decided that she truly didn't want to know. She had actively chosen to close her eyes to the possibility that Lucifer might truly not be human, in order to preserve her own narrow world view. At least that tendency doesn't seem to bleed over into her job, or other aspects of her life, though. Yet.
"What about recent cases?" Ramey probes, "I'm already following up on the Deputy Warden Perry connections, though they all seem to lead to a dead end."
"I really can't think of anything recent," Chloe answers honestly. As much as she'd love to point him toward Lucifer's mom and brother… she believes Lucifer when he tells her that they're dangerous… and certainly not something that a human justice system is going to be able to contain. She also believes that he'll take care of the problem. If he's proven anything to her, it's that he keeps his promises, and takes her safety seriously. "And I can't think of anyone that might want to target Lucifer, either."
Aside from his psychotic celestial family.
She walks them through an overview of dinner, leaving out the more personal details and that Lucifer had wanted to go somewhere else for a discussion afterward. She did mention that he seemed to have noticed something when she went to retrieve the car, since she'd heard him warn her to look out before he'd tackled her and tried to drag her away from the car before it had exploded.
"And you have no idea what he saw?" Ryan leans across his partner eagerly.
"I definitely didn't see anything, and it's not like we've had a chance to talk…" She's not lying. By her standards, they haven't been able to have a satisfying discussion yet.
"No, of course not," Ramey agrees.
"I did see someone standing over Lucifer after the explosion as someone was carrying me away," Chloe offers quietly, trying not to relive the horror of that moment. Trying not to see Lucifer's crumpled body engulfed in flames on the pavement. "It looked like they were trying to help put out the flames, though. Maybe with a coat?"
"The firefighters did mention a good Samaritan," Ryan mused. "We haven't been able to track them down, though."
"Sorry guys, that's all I remember," Chloe remembers the sheer bulk of the form standing over her partner's body and wonders if it was Amenadiel, but says nothing, only shakes her head. "No links to Perry, then?"
"O'Neil the bomber is most closely linked to the Russians, and without Sokolov, there's no way to definitively link O'Neil to Perry."
"Damn," Chloe swears. Even though she knows Perry had nothing to do with her car exploding, the loss of Boris still hits hard for her father's case, and she feels that keenly. She catches sight of a familiar figure wending toward them through the crowd. "There's my mom, it must be nearly time for the trial to resume. Did you need anything else?"
"I think you've given us everything you can, Decker," Ryan glances at Ramey, who nods. "Good luck today. Do you have any idea when Lucifer might be up for a conversation?"
"I don't," Chloe hedges carefully, "but I can ask Amenadiel next time I talk to him. I really appreciate you guys coming out here to do this."
"No problem Decker, good luck today." Ryan and Ramey stand as Penelope approaches them slowly, looking anxiously from them to her daughter.
"Is it time to go in, Pumpkin?"
"Yeah, Mom, I'm ready." Chloe finishes her coffee and stands with a subtle stretch. "These are Detectives Ramey and Ryan, they're looking into the explosion."
"Do you have any leads on the monster that tried to kill my daughter and her partner?" Penny's eyes fix expectantly on the pair of Detectives, who smile tightly.
"We're following some leads, but nothing concrete yet." Ramey admits, and Penelope nods with a slight frown.
"Thanks again guys," Chloe says loudly, taking her mother's elbow and leading her toward the courthouse. "C'mon Mom, let's go see this through."
"Gabriel, I know you're listening, you always are," he mutters, annoyed as he pulls his palms apart and heads for the bar to pour himself a drink. "Come on, this won't take long…"
He pulls out a tumbler and is choosing his drink when the faint rustle of feathers and a small breeze behind him announces an arrival. "Might as well make it two, Lucifer," his sister's chipper, yet somehow still suspicious tone rings out behind him. "At least then maybe the trip will be worth my while."
"Well, the Messenger responds!" He snags another glass and pours a small measure, knowing his sister for the lightweight she is. He turns to find her appreciatively gazing around his flat, her dark eyes wide and mane of sable curls disarrayed from her flight. "I wasn't sure you would."
"You know me, I'm too curious to turn down a direct summons," her mischievous smile doesn't reach her eyes, but she reaches for the offered glass and takes a small sip. "I can't remember the last time you actually tried to speak to me, so I wanted to see what was so very important that you needed my very special services."
"You're aware of the situation here?" He lifts an eyebrow as she shakes her head and leans against the bar. "Really? Dad's most dedicated gossip hasn't noticed that Mum's been living amongst the humans for months now, or that the angel of wisdom and patterns has… ceased to exist?"
"Oh, that," a flicker of worry crosses her face, her eyes scanning him carefully as she takes a wary step back. "Yeah, we're all aware of that… but maybe not the details? Just that Uriel came down after Mom and you killed him with Rae's blade… I had absolutely nothing to do with any of that, so if you—"
"For Dad's sake, I'm not going to do anything to you, Gabriel," he heaves a long-suffering sigh. His throat tries to close, but he forces the words out anyway. "Uriel came to kill Mum with Azrael's blade, but he also threatened to kill a human if I didn't turn her over. I know you don't care, but he… he didn't leave me a choice. I had to protect them, and he wouldn't be swayed."
Gabriel blinks. Michael hadn't said anything about Uriel wanting to use Rae's blade on Mom, but Lucifer doesn't lie. Like, ever. She looks at her estranged brother, really looks at him. His tall frame appears to be folded in on itself, and she can't remember ever seeing him looking as though he was carrying such a weight on his shoulders before, even when he'd been forced to his knees before their father, after... The Messenger steels herself. She's no one's fool, and Michael has been very clear about how much better Lucifer has gotten at playing the victim throughout his many forays into humanity. "What do you need from me, then?"
"I… need you to take a message to Dad."
Silence rings throughout the room. Gabriel gapes at her fallen brother, unable to even begin to hide her surprise. Lucifer distracts himself by taking a slow sip from his tumbler, carefully not looking directly at his gobsmacked gossip of a sibling. He suppresses a smirk at rendering the Messenger speechless for the first time in literal history.
Eventually, he looks up from his empty glass and finds his sister still staring blankly back at him, and his patience and humor dissipate like a bursting balloon. "Did I break you, sister? This is a rather sizeable part of your duties, is it not?"
The new sharpness of his tone seems to bring her back to herself, and she shakes off her shock. "Why not just ask Him yourself?"
"He doesn't listen to me, Gabriel," Lucifer sneers, and produces from his jacket pocket a crisp ivory linen envelope sealed with crimson wax, a stylized starburst impressed into the seal. "I've been screaming and raging for eons without the slightest indication that the bastard is even aware I still exist. This is important, though, and with the… recent developments… I need to at least know that He is aware of the magnitude of what I'm dealing with here. At least then, if He doesn't offer any assistance or guidance, I'll be able to say I tried my best."
With the return of his wings, he can now effectively deliver his mother and brother to the gates of the Silver City and wash his hands of the entire matter. If it were only his parents, he'd do it without hesitation and possibly even bring cocaine and popcorn to enjoy the fallout. But if his mother truly decides to wage war on his father, there will inevitably be deaths of his siblings… and he can't bear the weight of more deaths on his shoulders. He hadn't wanted to kill Uriel, and it had broken him for a time. He's only just starting to scrape his pieces back together. If more siblings were to die because of his actions…
"I don't think…" Gabriel stops, puzzled. "What's so important that you suddenly want to open communication with Dad?"
"Mum's on the warpath," Lucifer says simply. "She wants to go home to see the rest of you and get Her revenge on Dad. I made a deal with Dad, but He hasn't been clear about what it is He wants, and I'm reluctant to force Mum back to Hell unless I absolutely have to. If I even can. Now that She's escaped once, She'll be able to do so again. If I return Her, She won't give me a chance to catch her again. I need to know what He wants me to do about this. I'll uphold my end of the deal, but I need to know what it is I'm supposed to do here. And the deadline is… well. Now."
"Dad offered you a deal?" Her eyes manage to widen further, which Lucifer hadn't thought possible.
"Of course not, I offered Him one, and he accepted… but the terms were a bit too nebulous for my comfort. I'll do what He wants, but I need to know what that is first."
"And what was so important that you offered Dad a blank check?"
"That's neither here nor there, Gabriel, the point is that Dad accepted, and now I need to know how to uphold my end of the deal. Will you deliver the message, or do I need to fly up to the Silver City and see if a mail slot has been installed on the Gates?" He waves the envelope impatiently, and Gabriel slowly reaches out to take it. She stares at it as though it's venomous.
"Do you accept the delivery?" Lucifer asks formally, and Gabriel's black eyes snap up to meet his in surprise.
"I do so accept," she replies ceremoniously, bobbing her head briefly as the envelope passes into her keeping. She tucks it securely into her satchel and finishes her drink before looking up at her brother again. "Do you require proof of delivery to Father?"
He regards her carefully for a long moment before giving a slight shake of his head. "I trust you to do your duty, Gabriel. You've never failed it before. I know you can't guarantee Dad will read it, but I know you'll see that it at least gets into His hands, which is more than I can do."
A flash of pride flickers in her ebony eyes, and a small smile touches her lips at this unexpected show of faith. In return, she makes an offer: "If there's no response, I'll let you know?"
He tilts his head in puzzlement at the unexpected gesture. "When there is no response, you mean," his smile is bitter, but present, and she finds she can't blame him for the rancor. Their father doesn't speak to any of them, really, but Lucifer's isolation has been near complete. She would be bitter, too. "I truly don't expect anything from Him, I just… I'm running out of options, Gabriel, and… well. The last time I ran out of options, I…" he swallows thickly, his eyes dropping to his empty glass. "I just don't want anything like that to happen again."
Gabriel feels the weight of the sorrow and grief hidden behind his downcast expression, and doesn't know how to respond. She'd spent so long thinking her brother incapable of any emotions beyond anger, lust, or hatred, that being confronted with a resigned, obviously grief-stricken devil causes the normally outgoing archangel to withdraw uncomfortably.
"I'll see that this gets placed directly in Dad's hands," She unfurls her dusky wings and retreats toward the door to the balcony. "I, uh… I'll make sure he knows how important it is."
Lucifer nods, but doesn't bother to reply. Gabriel glances back at her brother's bowed head and hesitates on the balcony. "Lucifer? Where is Mom? Do you… think I could go see Her?"
"She's probably at work right now, I would guess," he lifts a hand in a cautionary gesture, cutting off her curiosity about their mother holding a human occupation. "I'd rather you didn't, because if She finds out I'm trying to talk to Dad… She's already dangerously reckless. If She thinks I'm trying to go behind Her back, She wouldn't hesitate to wreak havoc among the humans."
"I would never give away your secrets!" Lucifer merely lifts an eloquently disbelieving eyebrow, and Gabriel has to capitulate. "Okay, so sometimes thoughts go from mind to mouth without any filter, but I don't go blabbing my Messages!"
"All it will take is the mention that I've been in touch with you to make Mum suspicious. If I don't hear from Dad, there's a good chance you'll get to see Her anyway: I'll just drop Her at the Gates for you all to deal with."
"Oh," she turns to go, but something holds her back again. Something feels wrong. "Lucifer? Was there anything else you needed, before I go?"
"Tell Azrael to come and get her Dad-damned blade. And perhaps you'd like to charge of Mum and wing Her to the Silver City on your own…?" Gabriel's eyes widen and she shakes her head frantically. A wry smile twists his desolate face. "Yes, I thought as much. Go home, sister. And pray that Father gives a better direction than my current options are leading me."
"Honey, there's nothing you could have done to make this trial go any other way!"
"I shouldn't have followed the van, Mom!" Chloe rants in frustration. "Why did I do it? It was so stupid! I'm going to be the reason that Dad's killer is going to go free… all because I couldn't just—"
"Chloe Jane Decker!" Penelope's angry voice cuts through Chloe's self-accusation like one of Maze's demon blades, even as her strong arms draw her into a warm embrace. "Don't you dare question yourself that way! No father in the world was more proud of his daughter than your dad. Nothing you could do—in or out of that courtroom—could ever change that."
"I just… miss him,"she whimpers, her voice breaking as she melts into her mother's arms. "I want him to get the justice he deserves."
"Me too, baby," Penny's voice trembles with emotion, and she presses a kiss to Chloe's hair. "It's been a really rough week for us all, but we'll know tomorrow… one way or another." Chloe hiccups a little sob against her mom's shoulder, and Penelope draws her closer, really noticing the bandages on her daughter's arms for the first time that day. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I didn't even ask before—do you need some help changing your bandages? You couldn't have changed them on your own yesterday—"
"No, they're fine, Lucifer changed them this morning—" Chloe cuts off with a gasp, stiffening in her mother's arms. Her eyes dart around the crowded hallway, checking to see if anyone overheard her mistake. "I mean, um, my security detail helped me with them this morning while I was talking to Lucifer."
Shit. Shitshitshit.
"Oh, Chloe, it has been a long week, hasn't it? Have you heard anything about his condition?" Penelope passes off her mistake as a slip of the tongue, and Chloe relaxes a little but pulls away with a sniffle.
"I haven't heard anything new today, no," Chloe squeezes her mother's hand between both of hers then plants the seeds for their subterfuge, "but the specialty center said that his burns weren't quite as bad as they were first thought to be. They also have a state-of-the-art cosmetic surgery program to help repair the damage."
"Oh, that sounds like good news!" Penny pastes a huge smile on her face, and Chloe tries hard to match it. "How lucid is he? Do you have a contact number? I still need to thank him for what he did."
"I did thank him, a little," Chloe prevaricates, starting toward the exit with her mother falling gracefully into step beside her. "He's… we didn't get a lot of time to talk, but I made sure he knows how grateful I am."
"Of course you did, and I'm absolutely sure that's not what he needed to hear from you," Penelope shakes her head fondly, then brushes their shoulders and asks leadingly, "Did you tell him anything else?"
"No?"
"Chloe…" She sighs heavily. "You still haven't told him how you feel, have you?"
"Mom, I… I don't even know that there's anything to tell!" She blinks as they step through the wide doors into the blinding afternoon sunlight and start to descend the courthouse stairs in tandem.
"Oh honey, you might be able to lie to yourself, but if you think you're hiding it from the rest of the world… you're terribly mistaken."
"Even if I had something to tell him about how I feel, do you really think that now is the time to address it? When we've got so much going on?"
"There is always something going on," Penelope continues relentlessly as they pick up Chloe's security detail at a discreet distance. "Life sees to that, sweetie. You've already gotten a taste of what can happen if you wait too long. Is that something you want to risk? The possibility of losing one another without ever knowing?"
"It's so much more complicated than that."
"Chloe." Grief weighs heavy in her mother's voice. "Complications are always blown out of proportion. If you feel about him the way I think you do, you need to tell him. I… the way he looks at you, the way his eyes light up and follow you wherever you are… That's exactly how your father used to look at me. I just don't want you to miss out on that kind of happiness because you might be afraid to take a chance."
Chloe chokes out a laugh that might also be a sob as her mother tugs her into another hug. "You've never once let fear rule you, Pumpkin. I'm only saying, don't start now."
"I'll try, Mom," she promises as they pull away. "I'll… call Trix a little later to check in, okay?"
"You'll let me know if you need anything?"
"Yeah," Chloe nods, a little too quickly. "Of course. I will. Ten o'clock tomorrow morning, same place?"
"For better or for worse," Penny agrees grimly. She squeezes her daughter's hand once more and turns, striding purposefully toward the parking garage. Evans steps up beside Chloe as she watches her go.
"Home, Decker?"
"Back to Lux."