Ours
Week 10 (A Lucifer Earth Week)
Day 1
~o~
Chloe's spent the last several days operating in a kind of fog-like daze, as if her discovery will only truly become real to her once he's back here with her—once he's home again.
She's just rising from the bathroom floor when suddenly he's there.
And just like that it becomes unimaginably real. All at once.
Chloe's heart becomes loud and enormous in her chest. She's flooded with so much emotion that it nearly brings her to her knees. She rises onto her toes to embrace him, her arms reaching up to wrap around him. "You're here," she says against his jacket.
His hands touch her back, voice bewildered at her tone. "Of course I'm here…why wouldn't I…"
He pulls back, bewilderment becoming alarm. "Chloe?" he asks, his hands coming up to frame her face. "What…? Why are you crying?"
Chloe's hands cover his. "There's something I need to tell you."
His face flickers—panic-like.
"No," Chloe rushes, her hands patting at his chest now, "nothing bad, nothing bad…" Her voice is so thick it's hard to speak.
Lucifer's hands cup over each of her arms as they rest against his chest. "Chloe…what—?"
"I'm pregnant."
Chloe waits.
Waits some more.
Her heart feels like a ticking bomb.
Lucifer's hands have frozen over her arms, and his head has moved back a fraction; after another moment he begins to shake it back and forth slowly. "I…" he tries, "but…that's…not possible…"
Chloe slips her hand down to take hold of his; it feels heavy and stiff against her own. She tries to keep her voice level and patient, even when she feels about ready to burst—or break, depending. "Lucifer," she tells him reasonably, her voice sounding strange to her ears, "I went through three different brands of home pregnancy tests."
He stares down at her, his eyes still a complex jumble. "But…it…you know I can't…"
There's something in his voice, something broken, that has Chloe squeezing his fingers and shaking her head fiercely.
"Chloe," he insists, voice frayed around the edges, the hint of wretchedness tearing off pieces from Chloe's heart, "there must be some kind of mistake…it…it can't be mine."
The implication behind the words should score Chloe a direct hit.
It doesn't.
Chloe gets it.
She does.
Lucifer registers the implication moments later; his eyes widen, and he rushes to correct. "That is, of course I know you wouldn't…that you would never…it's just that—"
"Lucifer," Chloe cuts in, voice soft and patient, while inside her heart is trembling. She detangles her fingers from his to smooth her hands over his chest, her eyes not leaving his. "The last time I slept with anyone but you, was more than three years ago."
Chloe can see it now; there are traces of shock, the beginnings of an awed wonder forming slowly behind his eyes as he starts to comprehend.
His hand covers over hers and her own turns to grip his, lifting it quickly to her lips to kiss the back of it before stepping past him into the bathroom to locate it; to locate tangible evidence, not because she thinks he doesn't take her word on the result, but because Chloe knows first hand that holding something tangible helps to solidify this miraculous reality that is now theirs.
She lifts one of three home pregnancy testing devices from the drawer—the one with the little red plus sign showing in the circular results window—and turns to offer it to Lucifer.
He takes it.
Stares at it.
His eyes lift to hers, and now they reflect her own; awe and wonder front and center. "I…" he starts slowly, "I did this?"
Chloe's lips tug unexpectedly. She nods.
"A baby?"
Again, Chloe nods.
"Growing inside you right now?"
Another nod.
"Mine?"
"Yours."
The level of amazement on his face is a sight to behold.
He glances down once more at the device in his hand before setting it down—almost reverently—on the bathroom counter.
Then he takes Chloe's face between both hands. "Ours," he marvels.
Chloe's fingers come up to grip at his sleeves. "Ours," she agrees.
"It's…incredible," he manages, voice slow and stunned.
Chloe's fingers slip to his wrists where he holds her face. "I know."
Her voice is choked full of emotion, the anxious pieces tied to the unknown of his reaction slowly easing out of her and allowing her to feel everything that remains.
She, too, didn't believe it at first, writing off her missed period a few weeks ago as stress. Yet when the obvious signs became more insistent, the impossible thought entered her mind, unbidden, and the instant image that followed—the image of herself growing round with Lucifer's child had filled her with a shock of unexpected longing. Lucifer's baby. His baby. Their baby. Imagining it, knowing the impossibly, was damaging.
Three pregnancy tests later, and the impossible proved not only possible but a new reality all together.
Shock took over first. Too far away was the euphoric feeling. It didn't feel real yet. It couldn't feel real yet. Not in his absence. Not with him on a different plane of existence.
She operated in a daze for three days, telling no one, waiting. Waiting to tell him. Waiting to tell him first. Waiting for it to feel real, even when she already knew.
She knew.
She knows.
It's real.
Lucifer's baby.
Growing inside her.
His hands slip down around her, bending low as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and soon he's lifting her up into him so that her feet literally don't touch the floor, holding her there in a full body kind of embrace—the kind that swallows a person up heart and soul—and Chloe's own heart and soul is bursting now.
When he sets her back down again, Chloe feels giddy. There's still the lingering nausea from earlier, but that's okay. Par for the course. When she leans against him with a happy, tear-filled sigh, he takes her hands in his and leads them both to the closest place to sit.
She ends up in his lap with her head against his shoulder.
"This is really happening, isn't it?" Lucifer asks.
She lifts her head to look at him—to really look at him. To look for the uncertainties, the fears. She knows they'll be there, but, the awe, the indescribable emotion she saw mirrored in his eyes was more than enough to ease her anxiety over the possibility he might react badly—that he might not want this. With that painful thought alleviated, she can work with the rest.
She nods, smiling a little.
There's a multitude of different emotions playing across his face; most make her heart swell, a few press into it.
He shakes his head a little. "I…still don't understand…how is this possible?"
"You tell me," she says.
He stares back at her, eyes locked to hers, gradually comprehending. Both of them know his celestial capabilities; that he has the ability to adapt and change parts of himself based on inner most emotions. To Chloe, the thought that what he feels for her is powerful enough to create, to cause something so miraculous, takes her breath away.
"When…?" he asks. "When did it…?"
"Six weeks ago," Chloe tells him; she's already back-calculated—she's pinpointed it to within a few days. She watches him do the math.
"It…that was…."
"The week after your second week back in Hell," Chloe supplies. Week Four.
"Right…so then…"
"Somewhere around the last couple of days of that week."
She watches his face, sees him arrive at the same place she did, even faster than she did. His memory, especially when it comes to sex, is impeccable.
"Out on the balcony? When I…?"
Chloe nods. "Or later that night, or the day after…"
They stare at each other.
Lucifer draws in a breath, his face touching against hers.
They stay that way.
Touching. Holding. Quietly absorbing.
For a long while.