36 Hours After
For the first time since the shootout, Chloe wakes gently.
Not screaming from nightmares of red eyes, not in tears from the burn of phantom feathers. Gently.
To the first rays of early-morning light peeking through the curtains and Lucifer snoring softly in her lap.
He has not moved from where Chloe placed him: head in her lap, arms wrapped loosely around her waist - a heavy but comfortable weight as he dozes. He looks so peaceful like this, unburdened. Chloe cannot help but card her fingers through his curling hair, musing it further. She likes it this way, she thinks. It's softer without pounds of product keeping it in place.
On instinct, Lucifer presses into her touch, letting out a pleased sound that Chloe can only compare to a purr. Chloe bites her lip to keep from laughing. He must not be aware of what he's doing; he'd be mortified if he did. But, after the night they both had, he deserves to enjoy this. Lucifer is so responsive, though. With every touch, he buries his face further into Chloe's abdomen and sighs.
Briefly, she wonders when was the last time he had been held like this. Chloe knows Lucifer has a revolving door of beautiful women in and out of his bed, but when was the last time he let someone be with him like this? Maybe he never has. Intimacy for the Devil...that would require so much trust - someone knowing more of him than what he allows people to gaze upon the surface.
Just last night, Lucifer expected Chloe to kill him. She knows she is not the first to see his face. How many people has he risked to trust only for them to cut him down? An eternity alone...the thought makes her heart ache.
Chloe is lost in thought for so long that when she finally looks back down, Lucifer is watching her, dazed.
"You're here," he rasps, his voice still coated with sleep.
"Yeah," Chloe whispers, her throat too choked up to manage much else because the look of absolute wonder on Lucifer's face is enough to suck the air right out of her lungs.
"Am I dreaming?"
"No," Chloe replies, and his eyes flutter shut as he processes this. Chloe watches as all his defenses ripple, as he brings them down one by one, knowing he is safe and this is real. Lucifer appears to have no intention of moving, still Chloe cannot help but ask, "Do you want me to go?"
"Stay. Please," Lucifer insists, one hand darting out from the nest of blankets to gently wrap around her wrist. Chloe chooses to ignore the edge of desperation for both their sakes.
Lucifer strokes the skin on the inside of her wrist, just over her pulse, absentmindedly. Chloe knows what he is thinking; she's thought it herself a dozen times in the past day. She is here, she is alive. Perhaps the same need is why Chloe has been so keen to keep her hands on Lucifer. She needs to remind herself that he is here, he is alive.
They lie in silence for a few more moments before the need to speak becomes overbearing.
"How do you feel?"
"Like I just had three dozen bullets ripped out of me," he replies dryly, more of his signature sass bleeding through, but there is little heat to it.
Chloe watches with rapt attention as Lucifer sits up and flexes his shoulder blades, wincing as the wings pop out. They already look better - the holes closing into pinpricks, the bloodied spots all but unnoticeable. However, the primaries are still worse for wear, resembling far too much like ribbons for any functional flying. But Lucifer looks pleased as he assess the remaining damage, stretching the sore joints. He's not in pain, or if he is, he's good at hiding it. Then again, Lucifer is good at hiding many things, and Chloe can't help but flinch at the thought.
Lucifer interprets her flinch completely differently. He immediately looks chastened, folding his wings back into...wherever they go when they disappear. "I apologize, Detective. That was rather careless of me."
"No...just...that is going to take some getting used to," Chloe manages, still staring at the empty space where the wings just were. That part, at least, is true. Having to rethink how she sees the world is going to be a long and arduous process, Lucifer's place in it most of all. Despite the past day from hell, there is still that tiny part of her that was holding on the hope of it all being a bad dream. Now, in the literal light of day, there is no denying anything. But she does not want him to regret telling her. Not when she does not have any regrets herself. "Thank you for being honest."
Lucifer shifts and takes Chloe's hands into his own, gently, tentatively, as if he can't quite believe he's allowed. Chloe can't believe she hasn't snatched them away. But his skin is soft and smooth and perfect, and she wonders, briefly, how much of that is him and how much is illusion. How much of him is this, and how much is the red-eyed monster?
It is brown eyes that meet hers when he swears, "I have never, and will never lie to you."
The intensity Chloe finds lights a different kind of fire, one that sends frissons of heat down where their fingertips are intertwined to the base of her spine. She does not mind this fire. In fact, she relishes it.
"I know," Chloe says, truth sinking into her bones. Lucifer has always been, if nothing else, the most honest man she has ever known. That, she has no cause to doubt. "I should have believed you when you told me."
"Do not blame yourself for not wanting to believe," Lucifer insists, a wry smile full of self-loathing covering his face. "Not many people are eager to accept that they have come face-to-face with the Devil himself."
"I was terrified at first," Chloe admits, more than a bit ashamed at the response it elicits from Lucifer. He pulls away, his expression morphing into one of incredible self-hatred. It becomes clear: he thinks that she is rejecting him. The distance between them is excruciating, and she scrambles to clarify, "Not only of you, but for you.
This seems to baffle Lucifer. He stares at Chloe as if she has grown a second head, unable to understand why she would be concerned. Her heart breaks for him all over again. Has anyone ever cared about him at all?
"I won't lie to you either, Lucifer. Who you are...it was a lot to come to terms with. I didn't want to believe. But when Maze told me you had the dagger...what you might do with it...I panicked. Despite all the other craziness happening, the thought of you in pain was unbearable. What made it worse was knowing it was because of me."
And this is all her fault, isn't it? Charlotte's death, Lucifer's exposure, what happened to Maze - all of it wouldn't have happened if Pierce hadn't been so obsessed with her. It is her fault for bringing that man into their lives, for leading him on, for almost marrying him. And now...now Pierce is dead and Chloe still manages to find ways to hurt Lucifer.
"You have caused me nothing but unbridled joy the likes of which I have not experienced in a very long time," Lucifer counters, taking Chloe's hands in his own once more and running his thumbs over the tiny scrapes on her knuckles. His expression is grave, and in that moment, he looks exactly all the thousands of years old he claims to be. "For that, I would take all the pain in the world ten fold."
Then, he places his lips to the same spot he's been stroking, and Chloe loses her breath all over again. She has watched him use similar moves and dozens more on unsuspecting women throughout their partnership, but never like this. She has never seen him this vulnerable, this open, not even last night when he was bleeding and broken.
And that reminds her...
"Maze told me...she told me I make you bleed..."
"Mazikeen needs to learn when to shut her mouth," Lucifer snaps, temper flaring against his control. It is terrifying how easily he can change, and Chloe marks it as a strength of her wits that she does not flinch from the flames. Lucifer quickly reins himself in, closing those fiery eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Tell me the truth, Lucifer," Chloe requests, her voice calm even though she is still shaking on the inside. "I can handle it."
Something in her plea must convince him, because Lucifer relents.
"You are a Miracle, Chloe Decker. Touched by my Father. Your mother spent many long years without children, so He sent my brother, Amenadiel, to bless her, and nine months later you came along," Lucifer huffs a laugh, a hand reaching to trace fingers along the edge of her jaw, as if he cannot help himself. "Miracles and fallen angels...well...the laws of Heaven and Earth tend to bend around us. Anyone else and nothing can touch me, but my Father's Grace - your Grace - will always weaken me. Hence why I can bleed...why you were able to shoot me."
Chloe reflexively reaches for the bullet necklace lying against her clavicle, undeniable proof of what should be impossible. She remembers Lucifer's surprise when the bullet pierced his skin, the genuine shock of pain that sent him stumbling to his knees. She used to think he was crazy. Sometimes she still does, especially when he throws around words like 'miracle.'
Chloe doesn't feel like much of a miracle. 'Miracle' sounds important, like a superhero or a savior, not a divorced single mother who drowns herself in her job. She thinks Joan of Arc, not the woman who couldn't save Charlotte. She thinks purity, but there is still Lucifer's blood under her fingernails and residue from firing her gun. In comparison, she feels like she doesn't quite measure up.
But Lucifer...Lucifer looks at her as if she is something precious, and that causes her brain to lose any sense of doubt.
"For a very long time I was convinced He put you in my path on purpose, that this was nothing other than another manipulation," Lucifer admits, a pained look crossing over his face. Hesitation still lingers as he continues, "But I was wrong about that, wasn't I? This is real."
"This is real," she murmurs - their foreheads pressed together, noses just barely brushing. "This is real."
She says it over and over again, as many times as Lucifer needs to believe it.
Her heart is beating so fast, Chloe fears that it may burst from her chest. She is not sure what she feels, only that it is overwhelming and that she never wants to leave the warmth of Lucifer's arms. For this one moment, everything is how it is supposed to be. The turmoil of the last few days fades away, and it is suddenly so easy to tilt her chin up and soothe years' worth of longing with a kiss.
Of course, because this is the first moment of peace Chloe has felt in the past week, her phone decides to ruin it.
She groans and drops her head to Lucifer's shoulder. It is far too early for anyone else to be awake? Who possibly needed something before sun-up? Still, the phone keeps going, and going, and going...
"Aren't you going to answer it?" Lucifer asks, polite enough but clearly annoyed by the intrusion.
The caller, despite being ignored, is not taking the hint. Chloe sighs, gets up, and walks over to the bar. Naturally, the phone has stopped ringing by the time she gets to it. The light is flashing that she also has missed a few texts - all from the same person.
"It's Dan," Chloe announces as she opens the messages, her voice carrying across the penthouse so that Lucifer can hear. "They're bringing in the last of the Sinnerman evidence this morning. Thanks to you, Charlotte's case is going to be a big one. He wants to know if I can help...if we can help."
The we feels right, like something missing has slotted back into place.
Chloe looks up and Lucifer is standing in front of her, signature smirk on his face as he extends Chloe her jacket. Somehow he has gotten changed, and even after a night from hell, looks nearly perfect in a three-piece suit.
"Come on, Detective. We have work to do."
It suddenly doesn't matter where the man ends and the monster starts. Because her partner, - the person smiling at her like she is the most important thing in the world - is both. And she loves that person, faults, quirks, fiery tendencies and all.
Their problems are far from solved, their worries far from over, but there will be plenty of time for long conversations. She'll tell him later, she thinks, when the dust settles and their wounds aren't quite so fresh. She'll tell him when the adrenaline's gone, the case is won, and there is nothing left between them except a late night, the lights of the city, and all the hours in between.
But not now.
They have work to do.
A/N: Sorry it took me so long to wrap this up. I had a completely different version of this chapter written but I couldn't make it work and so I finally made myself scrap it and start over. But I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, as promised :) Thank you all for the amazing response! I am truly humbled and blown away. Hopefully there is more Lucifer fanfic in my future. Now, hurry up Season 4!