AN: Three days later, I'm still trying to understand why the f the Lucifer team thought we would be happy with this horrible ending. Or how the f it's supposed to be bittersweet when he's missing out on his daughter's entire childhood, which is just tragic (not to mention extremely out of character for Lucifer). So let's fix that, shall we?

While we have no consistent Hell-Earth time ratio, I've gone with the assumption that 5 minutes in Hell equal a second on Earth. In 'Pops', Malcolm suggests that a second on Earth equals a year in Hell; Lucifer says in 'Yabba Dabba Do Me' that he's been through his Hell loop a million times, which indicates that one second on Earth equals roughly two days in Hell; in '¡Diablo!' Lucifer said he's been in Hell for thousands of years (while it's been two months for Chloe), and in 'Nothing Ever Changes Around Here' Dan says he's been playing ping pong in Hell for almost a thousand years (when it's been a month on Earth), both of which indicate that a second one Earth translates to roughly 3.27 minutes in Hell. Since Malcolm and Lucifer (in 'A Good Day to Die') were in their Hell loops, it would seem time goes more slowly within a person's loop. That said, since Lucifer's office isn't meant to be a Hell loop, I'm assuming time moves the same way there as it does outside of the loops, hence the 5 minutes ratio (and also, five minutes is significantly more convenient to calculate with than 3.27 minutes).

Dedicated to L ❤️

Prologue

Day 2 (Hell Time) / 9.6 Minutes Since Lucifer Left (Earth Time):

Surveying the room in front of him, Lucifer let out a long breath. It felt ready. Just about. Being in control of Hell as he was, he didn't really need to move things around, but somehow, he found the physical activity was good for him. Could've used Amenadiel's help, though, He thought. He's still the strongest of us.

Especially now, A voice in his head popped up.

Lucifer had to admit it was true. As God, Amenadiel would've easily sorted the room for him. But then, he probably would've snapped his fingers to make the room look like this, and Lucifer could've done that much himself. The entire point was not to do this. The entire point was to do it the slow, physical, exhausting way.

The way I'd do it if I was home, He thought longingly.

Tears filled his eyes at the thought of home. Los Angeles. The only place he ever felt at home. With LUX and the LAPD and Miss Lopez and Maze and Daniel and Doctor Linda and his older brother… and Chloe.

The thought of her felt like a knife through his heart. Chloe. His Detective. And their daughter that she's now carrying. The daughter whose growing up he was going to miss because of that promise he gave. He shouldn't have given that bloody promise. Here he was, stuck in Hell again, having no idea how Chloe feels or what she's doing. So far away from the woman he loves and his unborn daughter.

The entire point was to distract myself from that, He reminded himself.

Doing his best to shake away the thoughts of Chloe and Rory, Lucifer focused on the room in front of him. It was perfect. Practically identical to Linda's familiar office. He'd spent so many hours in that office; he of all people should be able to recreate it. He would've loved to hear what she thought, but that'll have to wait. He won't be able to talk to her about it until she dies. When she does, he'll just fly her here for a moment, just so she can see the room, and then take her back to Heaven. Until then… he was on his own.

Never mind that, He thought, trying to force that thought out of his head. There were too many people he missed back home. Now what?

He knew what to do now. Now he needed to start bringing patients in. But which way would he do it in? Should he start with the people he knows? That's probably not the right way. If it was Linda's office, anyone who wanted therapy would've had to contact her and schedule an appointment. Could he do the same thing here?

He took a moment to consider the idea. It certainly wouldn't be as easy here; it's not like people were walking around the streets of Hell. They were stuck in their own rooms. But…

Not everyone wants to stay in Hell.

Helping Lee and Dan was significantly easier than it was for Linda to help him. They didn't want to stay - and more importantly, they didn't think they deserved to stay. They were willing to face their own guilt to end their suffering. Jimmy, on the other hand… He shook his head to himself. He wasn't ready to help someone like that just yet. He'll start with anyone who wants to leave. Preferably someone who's been here long; they needed the second chance he could give them as quickly as possible.

He quickly scanned Hell's current population until he reached a name he thought he could work with. Time to get to work.

Day 46 (Hell Time) / 3.68 Hours Since Lucifer Left (Earth Time):

He let out a long breath as he closed the door behind his patient.

There was no need for his patients to walk outside to be taken back to their rooms, but Lucifer preferred it that way. It was a way to delimit each session, which Lucifer - and his first few patients - found helpful for both sides. It gave them a feeling of normalcy, too; it was almost like being back on Earth, in therapy. Out of the therapist's office and back to their torture-free rooms. Almost like going home.

He glanced at the clock. He still had nine more minutes before his next session. I still need to write it all down and have a look through my notes. Nine minutes are more than enough.

Not for the first time, he wondered how Linda did it. He didn't spend a lot of time in her office when not in therapy - except when we had sex, he chuckled at the thought - but he knew she did something similar. It would've been wonderful if he could just fly over and ask her—

No. Don't go there.

If he starts thinking about Linda, he'll end up thinking about L.A., and his family, and— No. He couldn't afford to do that. It was hard enough as it was, being there; he couldn't make things worse for himself.

The sound of the door opening brought him back to reality.

"Ready for the next one?" Asked the Demon outside as he peeked inside through the open door.

Lucifer took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. Seven minutes.

He shook his head and turned to his desk. "I'll call you when I am," He replied as he sat down in front of it. "Thank you."

"Anytime, boss." He closed the door behind him.

He looked at the closed door for a moment before turning to look at his notepad. Those notes won't write themselves.

Day 117 (Hell Time) / 9.36 Hours Since Lucifer Left (Earth Time):

I'm not going to survive much more of this.

Based on his calculations, it hasn't even been a day since he left Earth. A day. And yet to him it's been nearly four months. Time passed way too slowly in Hell.

I really need to talk to Amenadiel about it. Now that this place isn't meant for torture, maybe we can speed it up a bit.

He was doing well, other than his constant awareness of Earth time. They were certainly making progress; two of his patients were really close to the point they might be able to let go of their guilt. At least, he thought they were. But it's up to them, He reminded himself.

But even as he went through his regular daily routine, he couldn't stop thinking about Earth. With every day he stayed in Hell, it got worse and worse. It was, quite literally, Hell.

One hundred and seventeen days down, hundreds of thousands of years to go, He thought before sighing. He really wasn't going to survive much longer at this rate. No matter how important and good his work was. No matter how satisfying it was, helping souls who desperately needed it.

He sighed again. Better stop thinking about that.

Day 3,768 (Hell Time) / 12.56 Days Since Lucifer Left (Earth Time):

How on Earth did he survive this long?

For the past five years, every single day he woke up thinking about Los Angeles. Every single day, as soon as he had a moment to think, he instantly started thinking about L.A. About his friends. About his family.

He threw himself into work. He spent most of his time working. Most of his day and night. Not that there was any meaning to referring to it as 'day' or 'night'; that concept just didn't exist in Hell. But it helped him measure the time, so he kept doing it, however much it hurt him.

And hurt it did.

Every single day. Every single moment that he had, especially when he had no work to do. When he wasn't busy, even for just a minute, it instantly started hurting again.

"This isn't Los Angeles. And you… you're not her."

Why did he just remember this?

I can't do this. I have to see her.

But he gave her his word. He gave her and his daughter his word that he would stay away. That he would let the time loop happen as it should've. It was supposed to be the right thing to do.

So why does it feel so wrong?

Day 17,569 (Hell Time) / 58.56 Days Since Lucifer Left (Earth Time):

"How many times have you tried it already?"

James - the soul he was helping in that moment - sighed. "I've lost count," He admitted. "But there has to be something I can do. Anything."

"I used to think that, too," Lucifer said gently. "But you can't change the past. We all make mistakes. Remember what you told me last week?"

"If it were someone else, I'd have said it's not their fault," James admitted reluctantly. "But it's my Hell loop, not theirs. It started somewhere. It started for a reason."

"Yes, it did. But you can't change where it started. You can only change where it's going now. We all deserve a second chance, James." The man in front of him looked unconvinced. "If the Devil of all people deserves a second chance, anyone does, don't you think?"

James nodded reluctantly. "Yes, but… not me."

"Who told you that?" Lucifer challenged him. It was a conversation they've had repeatedly over the past few months, but they never managed to get past that question. James always insisted it was his doing, and remembering his own denial, Lucifer knew he had to take his time. It didn't make it any less exhausting, though. But he wanted - needed - to help him so badly that he was willing to take years more of it if that's what it took to help him let go of his guilt.

"Nobody," James mumbled, looking down.

Lucifer sighed internally. This felt awfully familiar. He didn't know why - maybe it was the man's name - but he suddenly remembered Jimmy's Hell loop and what he did there. Maybe there's another way.

"Tell me, James," He said, leaning forward in his chair, "What is it you truly desire?"

For a moment, James resisted. Eventually, though, he blurted out, "I want her to be proud of me."

Don't I know that.

-o-

After James left, Lucifer turned back to his desk to summarise the session.

They finally got past that question. They made good progress. He thought he understood James's Hell loop, and now that they were inching towards his deeper issues and regrets, Lucifer was confident he'll be able to help the man. It was exhausting, but very much worth it.

But there was something that still bothered him.

When he said "I want her to be proud of me", Lucifer instantly thought about Chloe and Rory. He knew that feeling all too well. He wanted his daughter to be proud of him. He was doing all of this staying away thing for her, after all.

But that's not what bothered me, He realised in surprise. There was something else.

He quickly scanned the page, hoping for a clue. There was nothing out of the ordinary there. Nothing at all. There was—

"It started somewhere. It started for a reason."

Lucifer frowned at the papers in front of him. "Of course it did," He said to himself. He didn't even realise he was speaking out loud. "It started in his life. That's where the Hell loop comes from. That's where all loops come from. Even time loops."

Even time loops.

Lucifer sat up in shock as he finally realised what it was that bothered him.

"We were wrong about how it started," He breathed out in realisation. "We got it all wrong."

I have to tell Chloe.