Chapter Thirteen

"Why don't you go lie down on the cot for a little while?" Chloe suggested.

Lucifer blinked sluggishly at her. His brow furrowed and he mumbled something under the mask, which was now secured in place by its elastic band so he wouldn't have to hold it all the time.

"Hmm?" Chloe asked, leaning her head closer to hear.

Lucifer slowly reached up to lift the mask off. All of his movements now had a delayed, underwater quality to them. "I thought you needed my help…on the case?"

"I do," Chloe assured him, "but we're just re-reading witness statements right now, looking for discrepancies. It's nothing you haven't seen before. I can wake you if I find something new."

He'd been mostly dozing for the last hour anyway, his warm cheek pillowed on her shoulder. She doubted he was even registering what was on the screen.

"Come on," Chloe urged. "I'll help you over there. I need to get up, anyway."

Her constant sipping of energy drinks had caught up to her about thirty minutes ago. She'd done her best to ignore it, not wanting to disturb Lucifer, who hadn't had a coughing fit in a while and actually seemed semi-comfortable. By this point, though, Chloe's bladder felt like an overfilled water balloon, throbbing in her abdomen. Now it was either go to the bathroom right away, or risk peeing the bench like an untrained Pekinese.

Unaware of Chloe's urgency, Lucifer looked over at the cot, taking his sweet time making up his mind.

"All right," he agreed finally, right as she started to fidget. "Just for a little while."

"Great," Chloe blurted. She stretched an arm across his back for support. "Ready?"

He nodded and they rose to their feet in increments. Lucifer because he couldn't move any faster. Chloe because she was afraid any quick movements might result in leakage.

They shuffled over to the cot, the O2 canister rolling along beside them like a loyal Guide Dog. The soft hiss of air had become a constant, reassuring backdrop of white noise in the otherwise still warehouse. Lucifer had turned it off just once in the last hour, and the silence had been eerie, broken only by the rasps of his breathing. Despite Chloe's fear of the tanks running out, she'd actually been relieved when he turned it back on.

Chloe helped lower him down until he was sitting on the thin, lumpy mattress. Then she hightailed it for the bathroom, hoping Lucifer wouldn't notice her awkward, waddling gait.

After emptying her bladder—which produced a steady stream for a good minute-and-a-half—Chloe's body sagged with relief. And exhaustion. That was another reason she'd waited so long to pee: the hurt of needing to go helped keep her awake. Without it, she wanted nothing more than to stumble back out into the warehouse on zombie legs, curl up on the cot next to Lucifer, and close her eyes.

Chloe knew that to give in to this urge would be deadly. Even a five-minute power nap could easily cost Lucifer and Martin their lives. It wouldn't matter if she set an alarm on the Chromebook—there was every chance she'd sleep right through it. And Lucifer certainly was in no state to wake her up.

So, she had to be strong. For both of them.

No rest for the wicked.

Chloe splashed some cold water on her face and took a sip from her palm. Well water, she realized. A small clue as to their whereabouts…not that it did much good. She sighed and stepped back out into the warehouse. To her surprise, Lucifer was sitting on the bench again, panting slightly from the effort of getting there on his own.

Chloe frowned. "I thought you were going to take a nap."

Lucifer shot a look of contempt at the cot. "That thing…is a torture device. Maze should add it to her arsenal. She'd never have to use…her blades again."

Chloe sat on the bench beside him, noting with concern the increasingly dark smudges under his eyes and the slump of his shoulders. She'd never seen him look so drained, not even that time he deliberately kept himself awake for over a week.

"I really think you should sleep for a bit," she said softly. "It's not good to keep pushing yourself when you're sick." She rubbed a thumb over the back of his hand. "Come on…please? Just for a little while?"

Lulled by her voice and touch, Lucifer seemed to be considering it. Then he glanced at the cot again and a small shudder ran through him. "I think…I'd prefer to keep working on the case." He fixed her with one of those innocent, pleading looks that made her heart ache. Lucifer could make buckets of cash teaching a class on how to make sad puppy eyes. Not that he needed the money.

"Besides," he added, his voice shifting to a purr as he scooched closer to her on the bench, "I'd much rather be over here with you."

She bit her lip, wanting to argue, but also understanding where he was coming from. When she'd been poisoned, she had insisted on staying in the field as long as possible, chasing down leads until she physically couldn't anymore. It was a way to stay in control, to feel like she had a say in what was happening to her. If that was what Lucifer needed right now, who was she to take it from him?

Chloe sighed. "All right. You can keep working. Just let me know if you change your mind. That cot's not going anywhere."

"Too bad," Lucifer said, giving the cheap fold-up bed a look of disdain, like he hoped it would slink away on its metal legs to escape his glare. Then he happily snuggled in beside Chloe, once again using her shoulder for his pillow. He took ages to get settled—like a bird, trying to get in just the right position atop its eggs.

"So…back to work?" he asked, when he was thoroughly nestled in place.

Chloe rested her cheek against his dark curls, giving herself one moment to savor the feathery softness of them, to breathe the scent of his too-damn-expensive shampoo. Then she lifted her head and cleared her throat.

"Yep. Back to work."