Lucifer:
Still floating in the darkness, I can feel consciousness tugging me gently back. At first all I can feel is warmth, almost wrapped around me. My cheek is resting against something soft that somehow feels like the source of the heat. I turn my head to press into the softness, feeling my body slowly start to come back to me as I breathe in the soft scent of soap and something… familiar. I linger there for a moment, reveling in soft tingling that is spreading out from my center, letting myself float not really wanting to leave this nothingness yet.
I'm yanked back fully into reality by fingers curling through my hair, I let my eyes open and look up to see only her. Light glowing from somewhere behind as she leans over me, looking angelic except… her eyes ae swollen, red and wet. Concerned, I reach my hand up to try to touch her, stopping when I feel a sharp pain shoot from my back down my arm. I close my eyes, groaning against the feeling, and try again, my fingertips only brushing her face before I have to pull back.
Confusion washes over me as I try to take in the situation around me. I'm on the floor of the bathroom, my skin feels hot except where it's touching the cool tile. I'm sticky. My head is laying in her lap, her fingers still moving slowly through my hair as she sniffs slightly, looking down at me.
When our eyes finally meet realization crashes, sending my body trembling again,
"Chloe." It's all I can manage as the blinding pain his me.
Fighting against the darkness this time I try to push myself up, only to collapse into her again.
"Shhhh." Her breath is warm against my face, tiny hands doing their best to hold me in place.
Looking up to meet her eyes properly my chest tightens at the emotions I find there. Horror, disgust, confusion, fear…. And yet… there's something soft there too. I can't quite name it, but it makes me look away.
The full reality of the situation finally dawns on me as I notice the feather shaped blade on the floor a few feet from us, covered in blood. /My wings/ Something twists in my chest, not a physical pain, but maybe even worse
Willing the pain to the edge of my mind for a moment I quickly pull away from her, feeling something pull hard at my back, but ignoring it, needing to get as far away as possible. I can barely breathe as panic wraps around me, my eyes darting to take in my surroundings. One wing lays forgotten behind where she is sitting on the floor, looking more scared now. The other… glancing to the left I see it, twisted and bent, partially under me now and I realize that I can still feel something on my back, tugging at the skin with a heavy weight. Desperately I try to will back the memories from before the darkness swallowed me.
"Lucifer."
Her voice brings me back again.
She's moving towards me. I retreat, meeting the counter with my raw back, and put my hand out in an effort to stop her advance. She stops, eyes still on me, and I have to look away again.
"Leave." It's barely a whisper, but in the small space I know she heard me, even though she makes no effort to move.
"Lucifer, I-"
"Go!" I don't mean to shout, but I desperately need her gone. "Now!"
I don't watch but rather feel her slowly stand and leave the bathroom, before letting out a shaky breath and falling back against the counter, not even caring about the renewed spark of pain it causes.
Good, I deserve it.
Alone now, I try to wrap my mind around this new reality I find myself in.
She saw my wings.
She knows.
I can't stop the tears this time as they flood over my face, mixing with sweat and semi-dried blood that cover me. /She knows/. The drugs and the pain are too much and I'm unable to stop the horrible soul shaking sobs that come.
Chloe:
Retreating from the bathroom I barely make it to the steps before collapsing against the wall, letting it guide me to the floor, trying to catch my breath.
What /was/ that?
The logical part of my brain is still trying to work out an explanation for what I just saw, but my heart already knew.
The mangled person that was still close enough to me that I could feel his presence was not what I thought at all. And yet…. he seemed to be exactly what he had said he was. The man who saved my life, who frustrated and annoyed me at nearly every turn, seemingly unable to reign in his Luciferness. That had started to show me a different side of himself recently, started to open up, showing me the real man under all of the expensive clothes and liquor and women. But could he really be…?
For three years he's insisted on his truth, over and over again, but in ways that were so flippant no one could really take him seriously. And yet… in the studio after Jimmy Barnes shot me… the way he sent Joe Hanson flying through that window… in the warehouse during the Players case… All of the things I couldn't explain.
My eyes fell to my lap, taking in the blood that stained my clothes and smeared over my arms and hands. I started shaking, trying in vain to wipe the blood away on the clean spots of fabric. I freeze when a tiny sound pricks my ears. Years of unconscious maternal instinct tells me immediately that the sound is crying. Taking a deep breath, I push myself up to stand, walking back down the hall until I'm in the doorway of the bathroom again.
He hasn't moved from where I left him, but he's curled into himself now. Knees drawn up with his arms wrapped around them, his face buried there, and his body shaking violently with sobs. My heart breaks. I've never seen him cry, not really. And sitting on the floor, hair askew and looking impossibly small, I can't help but flash on an image of him as a boy (Was he ever?). What had he been through that landed him here, in so much pain?
Hesitating only for a moment, knowing he wanted me to leave, I slowly approach him. A flick of panic shoots through me, unsure what his reaction will be, but also unable to stop myself from dropping silently to my knees in front of him. I don't think he realizes I'm there, so I stay still, my hands in my lap resisting the urge to reach out. Slowly his shoulders settle and the sobs fade, but his face is still hidden in his arms.
Carefully I reach out to lay my hand on his arm but pull it back quickly when his head shoots up and his eyes lock with mine. We're both frozen, my hand hanging in the space between us for a moment until I let it drop back to my lap, not breaking his gaze. We sit there in silence as long seconds stretch by before I finally have to ask, "Lucifer, what happened?"
He doesn't answer at first, just stares like he didn't even hear me. The finally he blinks, shaking his head and quickly trying to straighten himself, though I can see the flash of pain this movement causes. "It's my wings…" He's trying to sound like his normal exasperated self, but it falls short, "they're back. Or well, they /were/." He gestures faintly to my right refusing to meet my eyes again.
"But WHY?" I can't help but feel a tiny spark of anger. Why would be do this to himself? Even if everything he's told me is true, things I can't even begin to process in this moment, why would he cut off his wings… again?
"Well, Maze is off wherever so I thought I'd just…"
"No, Lucifer." I cut him off, grabbing his chin to gently turn him towards me, but not forcing eye contact, "Why would you do this at all? I mean… how?"
His mood shifts, I can almost see the walls going back up around him as he pulls away from me, trying and failing to stand up. Succeeding on his second attempt he towers over me now, looking angry. "Because I will /not/ be my Father's play thing anymore." He's almost spitting the words down at me, but his voice is so low and quiet that for the first time since I got here, I'm scared. "And /you/ should leave. It's not like you'd understand anyway."
It's an accusation, a challenge, that normally I would have backed down from. But watching him sway above me, clearly unsteady, one wing still attached but hanging from his back in a way that I could see it's weight was pulling hard against the skin and muscles that run up over his shoulders, I knew I couldn't leave him. My stomach tightened again, unable to imagine how much pain he must be in. Slowly, I stood, again resisting the urge to reach out for him, instead clasping my hands together in front of me before trying to meet his eyes again, "Lucifer, I /want/ to understand. I'm sorry that I never believed you, but I mean…" It was my turn to trail off as I glanced down, letting my eyes drift over his wings again.
"Well now you know, don't you." His voice was still quiet, but no longer angry, "Mystery solved then, guess your job is done." His eyes are fixed somewhere behind me, "You can leave now." Just sadness.