Lord Of Hell: Chapter 2
*Spoiler Alert*: Definite season 5 spoilers- the ones featured in promotions on social media. And to be safe, parts of season 4
"Why bring me to the point where I could love the devil, only to take him away from me?" she asked. Linda looked at her, her usual sad smile at the question Chloe asked every session.
Ordinarily she'd change the subject by talking about Charlie. "Your acceptance means everything to him. You've shown him how to be better, your faith in him has made him want that." Linda answered.
"Has Amenadiel heard from him?" Chloe asked.
"No. He's limited to how many times he can go down there," she replied. She picked up her baby rocking him.
"I should go," Chloe checked her watch realizing Linda wanted to feed the baby.
"Don't be a stranger Chloe." Linda said.
Chloe bought coffees for her and Dan on the way back to the station; he'd been covering for her at work and with Trixie when she stayed at Lux. Coffee was the least she could do. He wasn't back from lunch yet, so she set the cup on the desk.
"Hello Detective," a smooth voice greeted her. Chloe almost didn't want to turn around for fear of the disappointment. She blinked several times to see if he was real; after six months he comes strolling back into her life.
"Lucifer?" She still didn't believe it. You always heard Lucifer before you saw him; his dirty jokes, banter, and laughter. A group of eager listeners gathered around him to listen to his exploits. His "Detective Douche" was practically a trademark. He stood leaning against her desk, arms folded, legs stretched as if nothing ever happened.
"In the flesh, as it were." She sat down at her desk and pulled a mountain of paperwork towards her, and began filling it out. His silence, and staring became too much after a while.
"It's been busy since you left. We've had the odd demon still around. Maze has been really helpful in that department. "She'd been hunting with renewed energy, pledging to keep the world safe for Charlie and Trixie.
Her phone rang. "Decker," she answered. "Yup, we're on our way," She smiled at him; a sense of familiarity returned as she zipped her coat up. He let her pass before following; something else unusual for him. He all about being the gentleman holding doors open. Smiling at passing officers; this version was still quiet. She'd give him a day or two to catch up; maybe Hell was taking a higher cost than he wanted to admit.
They finished at the crime scene quicker than Chloe thought. There was still a lack of Luciferness coming out of him. He didn't joke with Ella, and he wore gloves at the crime scene. There was a marked respect for the deceased; no comments on the manner of death. She didn't hear him call Dan Detective Douche once.
"Is everything okay?" she asked him as they drove back to the station.
"Everything's fine. Glad to be back at work after my vacation. A little jet lagged maybe. Just flew in, and my wings are exhausted." The last line was typical Lucifer, corny enough to make her roll her eyes, and laugh at the same time.
"If you wanted to talk about anything, I'm here for you," her hand hovered in the air near his shoulder. She took it back as he got out of the car.
"I'll keep that in mind Detective." He left her in the car struggling with the coldness of their encounter. She texted Maze; Something weird going on with L. Please watch him,'
"I love you too," Only those three words held meaning to Lucifer; time was without structure in hell. It was measured by 'before the punishment, during the punishment, and after the punishment. The fact he was unable to say I love you back motivated his return. He knew he'd have to hold onto those feelings for his own survival so he walled them away, taking them out only to make sure he could still speak, and feel as she'd want him to.
"I haven't slipped yet," he muttered. They expected a show of force from him. A moment where he'd thump his chest and become the Lord of Hell they all remembered. Little by little he was reverting; half a face one hour, his head turned to the puckered red skin. Wings weighing on his back in their black and red glory. He'd ripped the clothes from his body; it was easier to deal with the heat in this skin, and the ash falling on his shoulders. A cloak from the outside world. He could choose to be the demon he once was delighting in pain and punishment untampered by justice or compassion. Or he could live up to how she saw him. Be a more discerning devil; try harder to choose the ones that deserved it.