A/N: It's not… the best. Or the longest, for that matter.

It's here, though, but not without some difficulties, as a part of this chapter (a quite important part, that I was actually really proud of) vanished into thin air thanks to the not-so-great working of Word and I was forced to write it all over again. And that was the literal Hell.

I don't know - it might be actually better than the previous version - but it cost me a lot of nerves. So, getting to finish that chapter is even more of a victory for me.

I'm not too pleased with it, but I hope it's good enough.

This one focuses more on Chloe, the next one will be more about Lucifer (and probably significantly longer).

Anyway, enjoy!


Chapter 3: Carry Me Down That Road In The Morning


All her limbs felt heavy, impossibly so. She had no idea what she was doing here and where that 'here' even was. Her head was pounding, which hardly helped with assessing her situation, and neither did heavy eye lids she was unable to lift.

A sense of panic slowly raised in her chest, while she was desperately trying to listen to what was happening around her. Unfortunately, all she heard was silence. She couldn't even register her heart pounding or a rustle of her shallow breaths.

For a few terrifyingly long moments she just waited, trapped in that horrifying silent darkness, unsure of what's to come. So overwhelming was a sense of dread piercing through her limp body, that she almost missed it.

"Wakey, wakey, Detective."

Although the voice sounded like it was coming from afar—as if she was underwater and someone was calling her from above the surface—she could recognise it anywhere. Only one person she had ever known spoke with such delightfully British accent, after all. Upon the realisation that he was here, with her, her fear dissipated in an instant, replaced with a sense of security that only his presence could elicit.

Despite her desperate attempts to answer his calling, she was still trapped in the unbearably unmoving body. Waiting for what seemed like hours, utter helplessness she felt slowly wearing her down, she tried to move any and every muscle in her body, with no success. Her uneasiness grew again, as the thought that something bad had happened after all resurfaced in her mind, while she couldn't even recall if they were working on a case or not, though the first was far more likely.

Eventually, though, sensation began to return, bit by bit, to her fingers and toes, their tips tingling, and it gradually spread up her arms and legs. Her muscles were unpleasantly stiff and her limbs still felt like each of them weighted a tone, but at least she could sense what was around her, which was a load off her mind.

After she finally successfully cracked her eyes open, the impossible brightness almost blinded her at first, but—as her eyes adjusted at last to the light—she began to recognise colours and shapes of everything around her. Her lips parted slightly, when she dazedly took in her surroundings, searching for her partner's handsome face, an acknowledgement of his words almost falling out of her lips.

However, a frightening sight before her made her hold her breath before any words could came out. It was far from what she had expected, as she looked straight into a pair of eyes that certainly wasn't his—flames dancing wildly inside of them, they bored into her with intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

Those eyes, though, were hardly the most striking characteristic of a face before her—skin heavily scarred, it had a vividly red colour, resembling fresh blood. In seconds, her heart filled with fear much stronger and primal than anything she had ever felt. She tried to move away from the creature that hellish face belonged to, a scream caught in her throat with the air that couldn't leave her lungs. Unfortunately, with her body remaining annoyingly uncooperative, all her futile efforts had no apparent result.

Quite the contrary, actually, as the face had only gotten closer to her, fire in those eyes intensifying ominously. "Detective?" It was still his voice, though, as melodic as ever, its gentleness a stark contrast to the nightmarish face that seemed to speak those words.

She heard something in the tone of that voice—an emotion that Chloe would never suspect such a monstrosity was capable of genuinely experiencing—and it stroke her that there was more to the creature than the devilish face. She knew seeing it triggered in her a subconscious reaction, born out of a need for self-preservation. However, having heard the all-to-familiar moniker and an immense worry behind it, she couldn't help but see traces of humanity in that monster.

Fighting off the instinctual fear of him, she studied the face carefully, noticing more and more familiar features. Even in his eyes—behind all those raging flames—there was a mischievous sparkle she had grown so fond of, although it, more often than not, foreshadowed something recklessly stupid.

She let out a long breath, the conclusion clear, but terribly puzzling. It had to be him, there was no other explanation for the face before her resembling him so much, as well as his voice escaping the monster's lips. It raised the question, however, what had happened to him—how it was possible that his once good-looking features had turned into this.

Her continuous silence and stillness visibly troubled him. He gently moved a few strands of her hair from her face, his brows furrowing. "Chloe?" So soft was his voice, so full of concern, that it took her breath away. It made no sense how a man with a face of such a monster could be so… caring and delicate. A light touch of his fingers on her cheek didn't match roughness of the hellishly red skin.

She knew she had to say something, to reassure him that she was okay, but her body still wasn't willing to fully cooperate with her. "Lucifer—," she tried weakly, her voice barely a whisper, and she could see relief washing over his devilishly-looking face.

At that moment it stroke her why her mind kept associating the face before her with the Devil. It was really him—the Devil—in the flesh.

"Everything's going to be alright, darling," he muttered soothingly, dropping a butterfly kiss on her forehead.

She was laying in the Devil's arms.

And she had never felt safer.


Chloe jolted awake at the screeching sound of her alarm clock, almost jumping out of her bed. That was quite a strange dream, leaving her both with an unpleasant uneasiness of a nightmare and a comforting sense of being cared for, which made no actual sense. Moreover, the realisation she had come to was ridiculous—there was no way he could be the Devil, even if she remembered seeing first his wings—a pair of freaking angelic wings—and then that nightmarish face in her sleep.

She hoped against hope that all of it was just another stupid dream. However, a quick glance around her bedroom confirmed her greatest fear—there was a wine bottle on the nightstand, filled with just a quarter of its initial content, which perfectly explained throbbing in her head; a computer was lying beside her and she immediately recalled sifting through old videos and photos in a desperate search for signs of Lucifer's divine nature. Unsurprisingly, she had found a lot of them, many of which had raised her doubts even back then, but it was just too crazy a solution—too unreal—to be the truth, or so she had tried to convince herself of.

Closing her eyes, she fell back on the mattress. If only she could just sink in it, forgetting that the world around her even existed—forgetting about all those angels, demons, other planes of existence… It was all too dreamlike, and yet too painfully real. Wasn't it her workday, she would just bury herself deeper beneath the covers, trying to pretend that none of it had happened.

Oh, she could really use a personal day today, but there was a very slight chance Marcus would be cooperating in that matter—Marcus. No, he certainly wouldn't, not the day after that dinner and her very unclear response to his proposition of the next date. Which—at this point—Chloe wasn't even sure would happen, since she had spent her yesterday's evening speaking with the certain Devil, then the whole night analysing that conversation and its results thoroughly, not even sparing a thought on a guy she was theoretically dating—it was hardly a promising sign.

She forcefully tossed the covers away, sitting up. As if yesterday's evening hadn't resulted in quite big and ground-breaking developments between her and Lucifer, she had yet to deal with that whole she-had-apparently-started-dating-Marcus thing. She shouldn't have agreed on going with him to that concert in the first place—if it had been Lucifer, it wouldn't be a big deal at all.

Chloe buried her face in her hands, rubbing the skin energetically in hopes of regaining her composure. There was no time to feel sorry for herself and her continuous confusion, she had to get her act together and prepare to go to the precinct as though it was just any other day. In order to do so, she needed a quick refresh and thus took off her t-shirt and shorts on her way to the bathroom.

A long hot shower proved to be calming enough, so that she was able to brace herself and start getting ready to work, even if she knew nothing would ever be the same. She was torn—it'd be very nice to wake up just like yesterday, sweetly oblivious to everything, and go on with her day as usual, believing Lucifer's antics were just a silly quirk; on the other hand, though, maybe her awareness of the truth would finally change something between them. Exactly, just as if dating the actual Devil didn't sound ridiculous in and of itself, and yet she couldn't help herself but feel an oddly irrational excitement at the thought.

She groaned irritably, frustrated both at him and herself. His revelation seemed to make all the difference in the world, and yet not make any. It crossed her mind that her emotional confusion might stem from her rational human brain not being able to actually grasp that idea when who she saw was just Lucifer, a cocky and arrogant club owner from L.A, not an older-than-world divine being.


Quiet scratching of a pencil resounded in the kitchen and Trixie found the calmness in the room a bit unsettling, still not used to Maze not being around. Normally, if it had taken her Mom longer than usual to get ready, she'd at least had her demon friend to keep her company.

The girl sighed softly, looking down at her unfinished sketch. She was proud of how Lucifer's wings looked—though it was beyond compare to the incredible sight from yesterday—but now her thoughts drifted away from the drawing. Although Maze's words really hurt her, she still worried about her friend very much, wondering what she might be up to now.

Trixie missed her terribly, and she could tell that so did her Mom. If only there was a way to contact the demon somehow… Not that Maze would be really willing to talk. The girl frowned, deciding that she had to do something about it, even if now it seemed impossible.

Steps, echoing down the stairs, brought her attention back to the kitchen, with her Mom walking into it briskly soon after. "Hi, monkey," she greeted her with a broad smile, though Trixie could see dark circles under her eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't here yesterday, but we caught the bad guy," she explained, rushing to the counter and starting preparing breakfast for both of them. "I hope you had fun with Olga."

"It was okay," Trixie said hesitantly, her eyes glued on her sketch. But with Maze it would've been much better.

"Great." It was clear that her Mom's thoughts were somewhere else and for a moment Trixie really wanted to ask about yesterday's evening, but soon she realised that it would betray that she had actually woken up.

Trixie put away the pencil and the piece of paper she was drawing on, seeing that toasts popped out of the toaster. She quickly found a plate being put before her and her Mom sat on a stool next to her, a cup of coffee in her hands. "What are you drawing?," she asked curiously, glancing at a sketch.

As soon as her eyes landed on Lucifer's silhouette and an outline of his pretty wings, something on her Mom's face shifted and her shoulders tensed. Trixie could easily see her glance suddenly growing stern, when the woman looked back at her. Clearly, she was about to scold the girl, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath instead, before any reprimand came out of her lips.

"Trixie, is there anything you'd like to tell me?" Her voice was calm, but she gave the girl a serious Mom look, so that denying anything made very little sense.

Trixie looked down guiltily, a shy apologetical smile touching her lips. "I—I heard you and Lucifer talking last night," she admitted timidly. "And I was afraid it was just like before, with Daddy and Maze, and I had to see what was going on—"

Before she could even finish, sternness vanished from her Mom's face, replaced with a tender expression. "Oh, Trixie—" Her voice was gentle this time, with guilt painted all over her features. "No, don't worry, it was just—sometimes adults argue, so they could be on good terms again," her Mom explained, clearly trying to find the right words. "It's—weird, but it works."

Trixie nodded slowly, looking down at her untouched toast. "So, you and Lucifer—"

Her Mom gave her a reassuring smile, rubbing the girl's arm gently. "We're okay, monkey," she said comfortingly. She then took a sip of her coffee, glancing back at the picture. "Now, did you see them?," she asked plainly, pointing at the drawn wings.

The girl couldn't contain a wide smile, spreading on her lips. "Yes. They were beautiful, weren't they?," she said excitedly.

Her Mom snorted, looking down as if she tried to hide her expression from Trixie. "Yes, I guess they were," she admitted bashfully. "But you still need to eat your breakfast, young lady," her Mom added quickly, reaching for her own toast.


Chloe breezed into the precinct, feeling much better in familiar surroundings. It turned out that going to work was a good thing after all—resuming her daily routine, she could focus on things she understood and had control over and it helped her to calm down a bit, leaving Lucifer's reveal and its implications to deal with later.

Having pushed the matter of her partner's real identity out of her mind for the time being, she approached her desk, wanting nothing more than to dive into the paperwork—as boring as it was. However, one glance in the direction of the Lieutenant's office and she was immediately reminded of another problem she had yet to solve.

Luckily for her, no one was inside, which meant that he either had something to take care of or wasn't here at all. She rolled her eyes at a rather immature wish that it was the latter, in spite of its very low likelihood. Either way, knowing about his whereabouts would help her with coming up with a solution to this whole mess, so she took it upon herself to investigate.

She strolled over to her ex-husband's desk, putting hands in her pockets. "Hi, Dan," she said lightly as the man in question raised his head from above the documents he was currently going through. "Do you have something for me from yesterday?," she asked casually, looking around in what she hoped wasn't a particularly nervous manner.

Dan's eyes crinkled, when he studied Chloe's expression. "Hi, everything's already on your desk," he informed her warily, apparently noticing her slightly strange behaviour.

Chloe nodded absentmindedly. "Oh, okay, good." She took one more look around, checking the perimeter for her would-be boyfriend. "Is M—Lieutenant—here already?"

Dan clearly sensed her nervousness, but made no comment about it. "He was here when I came in, but I haven't seen him in a while," he informed, concern more and more visible on his face. "Is everything alright, Chlo?"

She looked at him for a moment, actually registering his question only after a few moments. "Yeah, it's—great." She hated how distracted she sounded and how he could easily spot changes in her behaviour; on such occasions she really wished Dan hadn't known her as well as he did.

It was high time to retreat back to her desk, before any more investigative questions would follow. "I'd better go and start doing that boring paperwork," she excused herself, gesturing towards her workspace, and fled the scene soon after.

Chloe could feel Dan's curious gaze boring into her back, while she was walking to the desk. She was painfully aware that if he had noticed that something was off about her, so would Ella and maybe someone else. What's worse, she had very little plausible explanation to offer to them and it bothered her more than she had anticipated.


Ella hummed softly, sifting through photos she was about to put into the folder for Chloe. Everything seemed to be properly prepared to place in the case files, so she collected the pictures and the test results, ready to give all of it to the detective.

However, before she could step out of the lab, Dan wandered inside, a thin file in his hand. "Do you have what I asked you for?," he asked expectantly, but not unkindly, looking around the room.

"Sure, the results are over there." Ella motioned at her desk swiftly, almost walking out of the lab, before Dan's voice stopped her.

"Hey, do you know what's up with Chloe?," he asked curiously, clearly hoping she knew something he didn't. "She acts a bit strange—," he added, seemingly noticing Ella's inquisitive look.

She looked over at the detective's desk, tilting her head. Chloe seemed quite distracted, puffing irritably, with papers scattered all over her desk. Ella hadn't caught it before, too immersed in her own work, but now it was impossible to miss. "Dunno," she admitted, watching as her friend sorted through another pile of documents. "I haven't talked to her yet. But I'm about to." She raised the folder she had in her hand and smiled knowingly. "Let's see what's happening," she muttered determinedly, going out of the lab, with Dan close behind.

It took her a few strides to reach the detective's desk. Dan had stayed behind, resuming his work, so that it would be a conversation just between her and Chloe. "Here's the documentation concerning evidence we collected," Ella informed with a smile, putting the folder on a yet unsorted pile.

Chloe just nodded in acknowledgement, not even looking up at her. There must've been a lot going on in the detective's head right now, Ella could easily tell, but she didn't know what the reason for it was. Asking about it directly seemed like a good idea. "You're alright? You seem to be somewhere else—"

Before Ella could even finish, Chloe glanced at her, a bit startled, and shook her head rapidly. "Oh, no, no, I'm fine. Just—I came home late yesterday and—didn't sleep too well, but it's nothing I haven't dealt with before." Her weak smile didn't feel too genuine, though, and Ella knew that there was something her friend wasn't telling her.

Despite Chloe's explanation sounding plausible, the forensic scientist's Spidey sense tickled. She might've been so tired, because… "Is it because of you-know-who?," Ella asked in a low voice, her brows wiggling.

Chloe seemed a bit taken aback by that question, and a few seconds passed before she answered. Guilty. "No, not really." The detective shook her head again, looking away. Even more guilty. "Not Marcus, anyway," she added under her breath, and Ella couldn't help but look back at the other woman.

She was slightly flustered, her fingers curling around a bullet on her neck. Of course. Ella had heard whom it was from and about a joke behind it (she wished she could've seen Lucifer's amusement with her own eyes), so that everything fell into place in an instant.

"'Not Marcus'?," Ella echoed, giving her friend a knowing look.

Chloe sighed, clearly not enjoying this conversation as much as the woman before her. "Yesterday was a long day and I really want to wrap everything up quickly and forget about it," she said sternly, returning to the files on her desk.

"Sure." A sly smile played on Ella's lips before she looked around, her search for a tall British club owner proving ineffective. "So—where's your partner?," she asked innocently. "As disregarding as Lucifer is of fixed hours, it's not like him to be this late," Ella observed, her focus back on Chloe as she thoroughly studied her friend's expression.

The detective's jaw clenched and she shot a quick glance at her phone to check for any messages. "He'll be here, soon," she declared, but there was a strain of uncertainty in her voice. "Hopefully," Chloe muttered, taking a deep breath.

Ella couldn't stop her curiosity from growing. "Did something else happen yesterday?" She leaned over the detective's desk, her voice hushed and conspirational.

Although Chloe gave her a disapproving look, there was some unease in her eyes. Ella instantly knew she had hit home. "Okay, I won't push," she said, stepping away. "But if there's something you'd like to talk about, you know where to find me."


Chloe bit her lip. Ella was right—even taking his usual tardiness into account, he should've already been here, especially since it could be fall within the scope of their deal. Besides, Lucifer had rarely missed an opportunity to spend some time with her.

A strange sense of uneasiness started to grow in the pit of her stomach. What if he had broken the deal? Yes, it was unheard of Lucifer Morningstar backing down on a bargain, which now made a perfect sense, but there was first time for everything.

She reached blindly for her phone, feeling that she had to do something. 'Remember about our deal?,' was all she sent, not wanting to seem too nervous or too concerned. What they stood on was more unclear now than ever, so she decided to play it cool. On top of it, she was quite unsure herself how she felt about all of it.

She was putting her phone away, when it pinged, signalling a new message. Such a quick answer surprised her and she had hard time determining if it was a good or a bad sign. She cleared her throat, more anxious than she had ever been, before unlocking the screen to check his replay.

'On my way.' Chloe let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. It was quite vague, but at least it meant he was coming here, or so she tried to convinced herself of.

Then, it hit her that there was something off about that message. No emojis, no barely understandable abbreviations. Before yesterday, she would be pleased with him texting her in a more civilised manner, now, however… A sense of heaviness set in her chest, while she looked at those three words. She had to remind herself for umpteenth time this morning that he'd basically promised her to stay in L.A., which also applied to not pulling any stunts like that jaunt to Las Vegas.

As comforting as she hoped that thought would be, she still couldn't stop seeing his startled dark eyes. He resembled a kid caught red-handed, ready to fly from responsibility for their actions. She snorted, coming up with this comparison. No wonder why Trixie took such an immediate liking to him, since they had more in common than one might've thought.

This, however, hardly mattered right now. She took a deep breath, putting her phone away, her attention back to the papers. The sooner she would be done with them, the sooner she would be able to solve some of the nagging issues, one of which just passed her desk. She cleared her throat nervously, realising that Marcus was back in his office. She knew that a very difficult conversation lay ahead of her, but she decided to put it off for now, her mind still too occupied with Lucifer and his thing.