Shot through the heart, and you're to blame…

...

He knew he'd made a mistake as soon as he finished speaking. She immediately pulled away from his embrace, hands still shaking as she gathered her things. "Chloe?"

She wouldn't even look at him.

Panicking, he replayed their conversation over in his mind, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. She was halfway out of the room before he even realised she'd started moving. In the blink of an eye he was in front of the door, blocking her path.

"Move, Lucifer." Her eyes remained fixed on the floor.

"I can't, not until you tell me what's going on, Detective." He reached towards her, but she stepped away just as quickly.

"What's going on, is that this is over. I know everything I need to know."

A chill ran through him as he realised she wasn't just talking about their conversation. "What do you mean over?"

"I mean this." She waved her hands between the two of them. "You. Me. Partners, friends, whatever we are. Over. Done. Finished."

He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. "You don't mean that. You can't mean that."

She finally looked at him, her eyes flooded with tears. "But I do, Lucifer. How can I stay with you after this?"

No, this couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after they'd finally...

"I don't understand."

She slammed her belongings back down on the table. "And that's the problem isn't it? You never do!"

He moved towards her again, but this time she held her ground, staring up at him defiantly. Gently he cupped her face, brushing away the tears there. "Help me understand then."

Leaning forward, he touched his forehead to hers, as he had once before.

This is real, isn't it?

"Stay here with me."

For one wonderful moment, her gaze softened. For one wonderful moment, he hoped.

And then the moment was over. She shook her head slowly as she closed her eyes. Soft, small hands reached up and wrapped themselves around his wrists, pulling him away. He let her. She stepped around him, heading for the door.

All he could do was stand and watch as she walked out on him.

...

She almost made it. Her desk was within reach, car keys calling to her as she made her escape. But then she heard him he speak, low and bitter.

"So much for not running away."

Anger sparked sharp and bright as she turned. "What did you say?"

He was standing in the doorway of the interrogation room, his tall frame silhouetted against the light within. The tension in his body was obvious, fists clenched by his sides as he struggled to contain himself.

Undeterred, she marched back towards him. "You are the last person who can talk to me about running away, Lucifer!" Placing both hands flat against his chest she pushed, surprising them both as he stumbled backwards.

At least he had the decency to look repentant for a second before he decided to double down. "Well aren't you? All this time, I've done nothing but tell you the truth! And what have you given me, Detective? Lies!"

Fury emanated from him. She'd seen him like this before, but never ever directed at her. Upper lip curled, he taunted her mockingly as he began to advance.

"If you think I wouldn't forgive you for your mistakes, Lucifer."

Step.

"If you think I don't know who you really are by now, Lucifer."

Step.

"You're not the Devil, Lucifer, not to me."

He towered over her, his face contorted with anger, dominating her vision. His eyes though... they weren't the eyes she'd seen before, those glowing orbs lit with the fires of Hell. No, these eyes contained nothing but betrayal.

"Well, Detective? Am I the Devil to you now?"

She waited for the fear. It should have been there. She should have been terrified. The Devil himself was incandescent with rage in front her and yet the only thing she felt... was guilt. And in turn that made her angry.

They both stood in silence, breathing in unison, neither one willing to look away from the other.

It took her a full minute to realise he was trembling. She placed a hand upon his chest as she tried to find the words. She hadn't wanted to do this, but he was giving her no choice.

"No, Lucifer, you're not. This has nothing to do with you being the Devil..."

She felt the tension begin to drain out of him as she spoke.

"...and everything to do with Marcus."

...

Pierce?

What the bloody hell did he have to do with anything anymore?

Lost for words for what must be the first time in his long life, Lucifer watched as the Detective collapsed into the nearby chair, her legs seemingly unwilling to support her now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

After a brief pause he followed suit, taking his seat in silence as he waited for an explanation.

An explanation however, was not what she offered him.

"I have a deal for you, Lucifer. I won't leave, if you'll agree to be honest with me. No evasions, no more half-truths, no bluffing. Just the facts. We can talk. I won't promise anything more than that."

His reply was immediate.

"Done." He'd have agreed to almost anything if he meant she didn't go.

With a sigh she picked up her notepad once more, leafing through the pages as he'd seen her do so many times before during an interrogation.

"I spoke to Linda," she said.

Oh? That was interesting.

"Excellent idea, Detective! You'd be much better served talking to her than me, work out some of these "issues" you're currently dealing with."

She glared at him.

Right. Not a great way to start. To be fair, the air quotes probably hadn't helped.

"For obvious reasons she wasn't able to tell me much, but she did enlighten me on a few things," she continued.

Things he wasn't going to get to hear about apparently. That was troublesome, the doctor having decided to be more friend than therapist lately. Not that he minded the Detective hearing the truth of course, especially now, but he was well aware that Linda appeared to know him better than he knew himself sometimes. Which left him wondering about what kind of insights she might have provided.

"Did you know Charlotte was a client of hers?"

Reaching into his jacket for his flask, he picked up one of the glasses on the table and poured himself a drink. "I did. It was me who suggested it, actually."

He didn't like this. Before it had felt like a game, but now... now he could understand how all those other criminals felt, trapped under the Detective's steely gaze. Because that's what he was apparently, a criminal. He just didn't know what his crime was yet.

"Were you aware she was investigating Pierce? We found files filled with documents when we searched her home, all related to his identity as the Sinnerman."

He froze. That bastard. Amenadiel had gotten Charlotte involved in this? Had he even told her who Pierce was, the kind of danger she was in? Was he responsible for her death?

"No, I was not aware," he said through gritted teeth, lowering his head and shutting his eyes before the Detective could catch the flash of fire there. He'd rip the bloody wings off his brother's back the next time he saw him, new pair or not.

Thinking he'd done a fairly good job of controlling his temper for once, he opened his eyes to find the table in front of him covered in blood and whisky, the remains of his glass shattered underneath his palm.

"Lucifer, you're bleeding."

Smile. Don't let her see. Wincing only slightly, he dropped the shards still clutched in his hand and brushed away the leftover glass with the other. "Just one of the many perks of our friendship, Detective!" he replied jovially.

She frowned at his words before going to fetch the first aid kit. He spent the time she was gone composing himself, trying to calm his breathing, clenching and unclenching his fists. "You're making it worse," said a voice from behind him.

He hadn't even noticed her come back in. Kneeling down, she gently took his hand and rested it on his leg as she began to clean his injuries. Even after all this time, he could never understand how someone as good as her could treat him with such kindness. She stole his breath away.

Wrapping a bandage around his palm, she looked up at him questioningly. "Why does that make you so angry?" As she finished, he turned his hand over to lay on top of hers, not quite holding but not letting go either. She made no indication of wanting to leave, waiting for him to answer.

"My brother... it appears he may have gotten Charlotte into a situation she was ill prepared for."

"Your brother." The Detective took a deep breath. "Who is also an angel."

He couldn't stop looking at their hands. Apparently she could feel the weight of his gaze though, because the next thing he knew she was moving away. He stared at the empty spot where her hand had been, before focusing his attention back across the table.

"It would appear so." She looked at him strangely as she sat down, and he realised she was waiting for him to elaborate. "Oh, he was mortal as they come for a while there, but it seems 'dear old Dad' has restored him to his former glory." Because the other explanation didn't bear thinking about.

"I'm sure God's favourite son is being welcomed back into the fold as we speak." He smiled, but there was no joy in it. He turned his gaze skyward as he thought of the departure of his sibling.

Alone again.

It wasn't what angels were made for. But still, for once, the Silver City had provided a silver lining. "At least he managed to take Charlotte with him."

Silence. He glanced back down, and to his surprise for the first time since they'd started talking again the Detective was smiling. He couldn't help but smile back at her, his melancholy forgotten.

"She's in Heaven?"

He nodded. "She is. I even checked Hell, just to be sure."

It was impossible to miss the way her face suddenly paled. She swallowed. "You can do that?" He gave another nod as an affirmative. "I thought you never wanted to go back?"

He scoffed. "Believe me I don't. There's always a chance I'll get trapped down there. But as and when the need arises? Besides, these..." he rolled his shoulders to indicate his wings, "make a flying visit much more possible." He broke out into a grin at that, pleased with his own pun. He could have sworn that earned a smirk from the Detective too. Emboldened, he continued without thinking. "Put it this way, it's certainly easier than having to kill yourself to get there!"

This time, the silence that met him was not one of happiness. The Detective looked horrified, and he had no idea why. All he'd said was... oh. Crap.

...

"What...?" she breathed. She could barely bring herself to speak at all. He'd killed himself? That was certainly the last thing she'd ever thought she'd hear him say.

"Why would you do that, Lucifer?" she asked, trying to wrap her head around it. He looked sheepish for a moment. There was something funny about that, she was sure, the Devil looking sheepish, but now wasn't the time to be deciding what it was.

He gave her a shrug as he leaned back in his chair. "It was the fastest way to get to Hell at the time. No wings, you see."

"And you needed to get there quickly because...?"

His face became serious as he righted himself, fixing her with those dark eyes of his. "Tell me, Detective, how exactly do you think I got the formula for an antidote from a dead professor?"

You didn't die after all. That makes one of us.

She thought he'd been talking his usual nonsense. Oh God. "You went to Hell for me?" She couldn't manage more than a whisper.

There it was, that sheepish look again. "Twice, if you count the whole Malcolm debacle."

Tears welled up in her eyes and she tried to blink them away. This man. This unfathomable man who cared for her so damn much. Who put her safety above his own. Who was there for her even when he didn't need to be. Who lov... no. She didn't know that for sure.

Don't you?

None of that fit though. How he could be all of those things, and yet still allow this to happen. It didn't make any sense. But he'd died for her. Twice.

He was making this so much harder.

Apparently he'd carried on talking while she wasn't listening. "...More of a team effort though really. Maze, Dr. Linda... even Amenadiel pitched in."

Finally noticing her absent-mindedness, he stopped. "Detective?"

Focus. "Your brother. You think he might have caused Charlotte's death in some way?"

His face became grim. "It's possible. Did any of her research indicate she knew of the lieutenant's true identity?"

"You mean as Cain." She shook her head. It was still something she was having trouble associating with the man she thought she'd loved.

"Then it's likely he didn't tell her all the facts. That arrogant arsehole. He let her go in blind, and she ended up paying for it." He gripped the edge of the table, the metal buckling under his fingers. It was easy to forget how strong he was sometimes, even with the knowledge of who he was.

This was good though. Maybe she'd be able to get through to him now.

"How did your brother get involved in all of this anyway? I wasn't even aware he knew Marcus."

"Oh, they go way back." He laughed at that, a joke she didn't understand. "He wasn't involved at first though. Didn't even know Pierce was the Sinnerman until I told him."

And there it was.

He hadn't finished. "He probably thought it was all part of some test from Father. A test he passed apparently." There was a hint of resentment in his voice at that.

"When did you find out?"

"That he'd returned home to the Silver City? At the crime scene. There was a feather..."

She interrupted him. "No, Lucifer. When did you find out Pierce was the sinnerman. That he was Cain." She tried to hide the urgency in her words but from the look on his face he had picked up on there being something important about her question.

Eyebrows furrowed slightly, he gave her an answer. "Shortly after the death of the faux-sinnerman, why?"

She tried to keep it together, she really did. But the sob escaped her before she could stop it. In an instant he was there, pulling her close as he awkwardly tried to comfort her. She pushed him away.

"Detective, what's wrong?" Seeing his face so full of concern, her heart broke all over again.

"You just don't get it, do you, Lucifer? You're pissed with your brother because he didn't give Charlotte the information she needed to know. He kept her in the dark. She made choices, put herself in danger, all because she didn't know the full story."

She was no longer crying, righteous anger coursing through her veins.

"How is that any different to what you've done to me?"

...

He stepped back from her feeling like he'd taken a physical blow to the chest. How could she think that? It wasn't true! It couldn't be true! He would never... he wouldn't...

Oh Father. What had he done?

"Detective, I..."

"No, Lucifer, I don't want to hear it. You knew what he was, what he'd done. You knew for weeks and didn't tell me. When we started dating, you didn't tell me. When I started to fall for him, you didn't tell me. It took you nearly losing your goddamn mind before you made any attempt whatsoever to warn me about what I was getting myself into, and even then you did it knowing I wouldn't believe you."

He couldn't breathe, couldn't think of what to say. Everything she was saying was true, and there was no way to convince her otherwise without lying. And that was something he'd promised her he would never do.

"You're a woman of logic and reason... you require proof. That's what you said to me. You knew exactly what it would take to get me to believe you and you still chose not to. All that time, and you could have proven to me at any point that what you were saying was true."

Finally, he managed to voice the only thing he had intended through it all.

"I wanted to give you a choice."

"A choice? A choice?! How long have we worked together now, Lucifer? What makes you think I would ever, ever choose to be with a man like that?"

He didn't know. Father help him, he didn't know.

She was shaking her head now, the tears she'd been holding back starting to stream down her face.

"You were my partner, Lucifer, you were supposed to have my back. Instead you stood by and watched as I let a murderer into my life, into my home, into my bed. I left him alone with my daughter! I can't forgive you for that. I won't."

Breathing heavily, she took a minute to compose herself. Then cautiously she approached him, placing a hand on his arm as she continued to speak.

"I'm grateful to you for saving my life, really I am. Because of you, Trixie still has a mother. But don't you see? If you'd just shown me who you really are in the first place, I wouldn't have been in danger at all."

And with that she moved away again, casting her eyes to the floor.

"We can't do this anymore. It... it just hurts too much. Once this case is over," she swallowed, her gaze flickering up to meet his, just for a second, "I'd like you to resign. I'll tell Trixie that you moved, that you had family you needed to go back to or something. She'll probably try to come by Lux, but you can tell the staff not to let her in."

There was so much he wanted to say. But so little he thought she'd listen to. "Please don't lie to the child."

"Why not? You've never liked her anyway."

Had he really not made it clear how much he cared about her? About both of them?

"How could I not? She's part of you."

A single tear fell to join all the others, and he caught it with his finger as he caressed her cheek. He felt her lean into his hand automatically.

"Chlo..." Her eyes snapped to his as she pulled away. "Detective, please."

"I can't. I'm sorry."

She hesitated, and for the briefest instant he thought she'd reconsidered. Instead, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his. It felt different though, this time.

The last time.

"Goodbye Lucifer."