Chapter 2
He coughed at the tickle of ash entering his airways. The sky around him was a deep cerulean, the wind harsh and cold, the lighting dim. Lucifer blinked as he came to, slightly confused. He planted his hands on the cold stone either side of him, groaning as he sat up. His head was throbbing, but he struggled against it to bring himself to full consciousness.
"Bloody…here?"
Tentatively, he stood, pivoting to examine his surroundings. It hadn't seemed to change since the last time he was there. The distant screams and howls accompanied by demonic laughs became apparent to him. Lucifer allowed himself to be taken to the gates. Along the way he attempted to come to some logical conclusion as to why he was even there. The last thing he remembered was being in his penthouse. Dinner. Wine. Music. The Detective. The Detective? He couldn't recall much except that she'd appeared worried. But no matter. All he had to do was get to the gate, walk through, and alas, he would be back on Earth. Back in Los Angeles. Back on the penthouse balcony. Back to his date.
But the gates wouldn't budge. They were immovable, practically. His brow furrowed. Lucifer grunted as he tried to push them open once again. And again. And again. He tried to fly upwards. Again. And again. But he couldn't leave the realm that way either.
"Will someone tell me what'-" He shouted, before one particular scream piqued his attention. It was female, the voice of an adult. It seemed to dominate all the others with its desperation and pleads. It was familiar. It was familiar. His eyes widened. "Chloe!" He shouted, running as fast as he could in the opposite direction, towards the noise, towards the pain, desperate to make it stop. Hell guided him there. Hell moved him where its master needed to be. Barging through the doors of the chamber, he staggered as he stopped.
It was his penthouse. It was late evening. The table was set for dinner, including a bottle of red wine. Nineties R&B played gently through the surround-sound speakers. It was exactly how he remembered leaving it. Except Chloe wasn't smiling. No, she was crying out manically, standing over an unconscious body. His unconscious body. Lucifer was confused again.
"Detective?"
She whipped her head around, eyes bloodshot and wet with tears. Her face screwed up in fear. Chloe opened her mouth but no words came out. Frantically, she turned back and forth between the Lucifer standing before her, concerned, but very much alive, and the Lucifer on the floor beside her, confused and very much dead.
"I-it keeps going. I-I don't know how to stop it. W-what's happening?"
He could see her hand trembling. And suddenly his own chest fell heavy. This was her Hell loop. Which meant she was dead. Chloe was dead. But how? He was with her just moments ago. And although time flowed much slower down here, even Lucifer knew it hadn't been long. But if he wanted answers, Lucifer knew there was one thing he could do.
"ALL OF YOU. GO." Lucifer roared, before helping Chloe to her feet.
Chloe's head craned around as the brick walls of his apartment faded. The figure on the floor shifted into something grotesque and dare she say, demonic, and suddenly it was just her and Lucifer standing in the expanses of Hell. Cold, dark, miserable.
"W-where am I, Lucifer?"
He sighed. "Darling…you're in Hell."
"I'm sorry." She whispered brokenly.
"Sorry? What are you…" Then it hit him like a blow to the head. "You…the loop…you did something, didn't you? Something to me?"
A hand came to Chloe's mouth as she let out a sob. "I'm sorry…" She repeated. "I-I thought it was the right thing."
"Right thing?"
"I-I shouldn't have listened to him. D-deep down I knew it was wrong, and…and…oh God, what have I done?" She wouldn't meet his eye.
"Detective, what did you do, and who told you to do it?" He asked, firmly now.
"Y-you have to understand, Lucifer. When I first saw you…saw who you really were…it…it…"
"Say it." The note of anger in his voice grew.
"It terrified me! Okay? Lucifer? It fucking terrified me more than anything I have ever dealt with in my entire life!" She yelled hoarsely. "A-and I didn't want it to. I wanted to just accept that this didn't make you any different to the man I'd been working with these past few years but…then I'd close my eyes and see it again."
He pursed his lips, watching as Chloe wiped her eyes, still crying.
"S-so I did the only thing that felt logical. W-when I was in Europe, I…I went to Vatican City. I went to a priest. I asked him for guidance."
"Guidance?" He scoffed. "Detective, you could have asked me! Anything you wanted to know, I would have told you. For someone who prides herself on being very logical, I can't believe you went behind my back like that! Did you seriously think a priest would know more about me than me?"
"What choice did I have?" She defended. "To find out that it's all real. To find out that Heaven and Hell and God and angels and you are all real is too much for one person to bear. So I went to a priest, who referred me to another one in Los Angeles, Father Kinley. He told me the stories throughout history. Showed me evidence of you being connected to bad people. Told me that you lied and manipulated people to convince them to like you."
He huffed, the last statement wounding him more than anything else she'd said.
"A-and I started explaining, well, our story. I started explaining how we met and how you acted. So then he told me what I had to do. That I had to send you back to Hell. He told me I was doing God's work. You have to believe me, Lucifer, I thought this was for a good reason. A-and I had no idea that meant me going with you." She begged, before taking a big inhale. "I-I don't know what he gave you, he just told me to get you to drink it, and then you would be back in Hell where you belonged."
Lucifer rolled his eyes, before raising his voice. "It doesn't matter if it was cyanide or a bloody paracetamol overdose, anything would have killed me provided you were close enough! He probably figured out that you made me vulnerable and went from there!"
"I-I'm so sorry."
"I know…" He let out a long breath, before softening his tone. He realised more and more that in a convoluted way, what she had done was out of love. Her love for humanity. Her desire to protect humanity. She had been manipulated, fooled, into fulfilling that desire in the wrong way. Of course deep down, he was angry too. He felt betrayed. He felt disgraced. But looking at her fear, at her overwhelming guilt and emotion, Lucifer decided that right now, his anger needed to be pushed aside. "I know...the fact that your guilt was overwhelming enough to form a loop and keep you here means you would never have been here otherwise. It means you are sorry, it means I believe you. I-I'm hurt by your actions, but I'm even more hurt by the fact that you've done something that affects you too."
"I'm sorry." Was all she could keep saying.
"Never mind being sorry for me being here, my concern is you! How are you going to get out of here?" He ran a fretful and through his hair. "I can't even get the bloody gates open for me, how am I supposed to get you out?"
Her face was concentrated in thought. "I-it's because of me."
"What?" He squinted.
"I-if I make you vulnerable, if I make you as weak as any human…then you won't be able to get out, the same way nobody else can down here. I'm the thing that's keeping you here, Lucifer."
He paled, nodding slowly, realising that she was quite right. At that moment he was almost proud of her. Proud that her skills of deduction and reasoning extended even during immense celestial-grade stress.
But the incredulous worry that neither he nor she would be able to escape Hell seemed to occupy his mind much more prominently.
