Lucifer:

I don't want her to go.

But I need her to go.

She can't see this.

But it's too late.

I keep my eyes fixed on the far wall, waiting for her retreat. Her rejection. But it doesn't come.

Instead, she steps closer, her hands reaching up to take my face in them, her skin is cool and impossibly soft. Involuntarily I feel myself relax slightly at her touch, fighting the smallest urge to let my eyes close. To pretend that we're in another place, another time, with her hands still on my skin.

"Lucifer." Her voice is small, but somehow firm, "I don't /want/ to leave. I… I just want to help you. You're my partner."

She says it like that still means anything. Sure, maybe I /was/ her partner, but that was before… "You don't owe me anything Detective." My own voice sounds colder than I intended, "Especially now."

Why am I pushing her away? What's the point? She knows now. And she's not running. She's here… she wants to be here…. No, she just feels sorry for me. I don't need her pity.

She sighs, dropping her hands from my face and I feel even more empty at the loss of contact, "I'm not here because I feel like I owe you anything. But fine… if you really want me to go…" She takes a step back from me, turning towards the door, "Just… I'm here if you need me…"

I can't stop my hand from darting out to grab her before she's out of reach, fingers closing around her wrist, but stopping there, not pulling…. Asking?

In the next moment her arms are around me and, despite being so much smaller than myself, she seems to wrap her entire self around me, and I sink into her softness, once again unable to stop the sobs escaping my throat. My legs are shaking, weak. I will them to keep me up as I cling to her, but they don't comply, buckling under my weight. Somehow, she manages to keep a hold on me and lowers us carefully back to the cool tile.

"Shhhh." Her fingers are in my hair again, stroking softly against my scalp as she whispers, "It's okay. It's going to be okay." I want to believe her. I don't know if I can, but I let my eyes close again, allowing myself at least this moment. I feel something in my bones that's unfamiliar, but comforting, and I let myself lean into it as the sobs crash over me again. I feel her grip loosen for only a moment as she shifts herself under me, settling all the way to the floor before pulling me gently back to her, my head coming to lay on her chest, and she simply holds me.

I don't think I've ever cried in front of anyone before, and certainly never while being held like a child… but the silent grace that was Chloe, holding vigil above me, allowing me to completely fall apart, somehow makes the tears come harder.

Chloe:

I keep my arms around him, honestly unsure of what else to do, but this seems to help. The sobs that shake us both slowly diminish into softer cries until they fade out altogether, replaced by the ragged sounds of his breathing. For a moment I think he might have fallen asleep until I hear him sniff and swallow hard, but he stays still in my lap.

"Lucifer." His name is almost a whisper, part of me still waiting for him to lash out again, "Lucifer." I try again, a little louder. This time I know he hears me, but still makes no attempt to move. I look down at him again.

I can only see a small sliver of his face at this angle, but it's clear he's been crying. Dark locks fall across his forehead, damp and beginning to curl slightly. Chancing a peek beyond his face I let my eyes wander down his body, taking in the sharp angles and planes of his chest and shoulders before falling to the angry open skin across his back. A lump jumps back into my throat when I look over to the other wound, the rest of his wing still connected at the edge, and I notice that the skin is tugging, ripping further open.

I let out a heavy sigh, "Lucifer, we have to clean you up." Again he makes no effort to move, "Come on, I'll help you." I offer. This at least makes him move, lifting his head from my lap I take note of how his arms seem to quiver as he pushes himself up to sit, still looking away from me.

Deciding that at least maybe I can try to get him out of the bathroom, I get up to find some clean rags, wetting a few in the sink before returning to where he still hasn't moved. Kneeling beside him I take one of the wet rags and slowly start to wipe the dried blood, covering one, two, three rags before I give up. "This isn't going to work." I sigh, "I think you're going to need to get in the shower." Sliding my fingers under his chin I urge him gently to lift his head. Even if he doesn't look at me, I want to see his face. "Would you like me to help you?"

Finally he meets my eyes and my heart breaks again as he gives the tiniest nod of his head. Aside from the obvious physical pain, he is clearly uncomfortable, which is disarming considering his usual confidence.

I do my best to help him up, instinctively moving to undo his belt before I stop myself, looking up at him, "Is this okay?" He nods, a bit more than before, and I continue, sliding his slacks down for him to step out of, leaving only black silk boxers. His still partially attached wing twitches behind him, drawing a small wince, "What should we do about your back?"

His eyes are locked on the floor, "No going back now, I have to finish it." He sounds… scared?

Knowing it would do no good to argue, and fighting back the bile that rises I ask softly, "Do… do you need me to…"

"No!" His eyes are back on mine panicked, "Absolutely not! It's bad enough you have to /see/ any of this! I… I think you've done enough Detective."

Crushed again by his attempts to push me away I can't help but feel tears spring to my eyes again, "What kind of partner would I be if I just left you here?"

He sighs, "Fine." His voice is cold, almost detached. It sends a chill down my spine, "Can you hand me…?" He gestures towards Maze's blade on the floor behind me. Willing my hands to stop shaking I hand it to him, our fingers brushing during the exchange and the same familiar spark shoots to my chest. Despite the scene we're standing in, or the pain I can almost feel pulsing from his skin, the man in front of me is still enough to make my stomach tighten, in a good way.

I try not to stare as he reaches his arm up, hand and blade disappearing behind his back, and seems to struggle with the effort. After a moment he gives a groan that morphs into a shout before dropping his hand back to his side. Gently, I slip the blade from his fingers and try to move behind him before he stops me, "Let me help." I offer simply.

I'm glad I'm able to pass for somewhat calm, because inside I'm on fire. How can I think I can actually do this escapes me, but a feeling deep in my chest tells me I have to because he can't. Taking a few deep breaths I lift my hand, gingerly placing the edge of the blade to the taut skin at the edge of red-stained feathers. "Are you ready?" What is the etiquette for severing someone's wing?

"Just do it."

I pull hard, surprised at how easily the metal slides through the remaining strip of skin and muscle, my heart twisting at the gasp I hear him try to stifle. The battered limb falls to the ground at my feet and I notice Lucifers shoulders roll and straighten immediately. I stop to inspect the oozing skin, my mind flashing to the night in the living room when I first saw his scars.

"Right, well," His voice catches me off guard, nearly back to it's normal pitch, but still sounding hollow to my ears, "Guess I can take it from-" He had made a move towards the shower but suddenly dropped again. "Shit."

Kneeling down I lift his arm to drape it across my shoulders so I can help him back to his feet, knowing that the only way he'll accept my help is if I just do it, and we slowly make our way towards the shower. Unsure how much I might actually be helping him I do my best I let him lean against me as much as possible. Reaching out to pull the glass door open I guide his feet over the small lip like I've done so many times with Trixie, helping him to sit on the tiled bench looking space at the far end. Turning slightly I grab the shower head, holding it towards the wall as I turn on the water, testing it until it's just slightly warm.

I turn back to find Lucifer hunched over, hands gripping the edge of the bench, his head lolling between his shoulders. Still taking care not to move to quickly I move back to him, considering for a moment offering the shower head to him, reconsidering when I notice his shoulders trembling. Is this really the same man I left just a few hours ago? The one who exuded confidence and charm, standing casually in the parking lot of the station making his usually suggestive remarks.

Ignoring that his boxers were still on, or that I was still fully clothed myself, I set to work carefully rinsing the blood from his smooth alabaster skin. I worked carefully starting with each arm, rinsing the red stains from his chest before I flipped the setting on the shower head so the flow slowed to a trickle. Touching his cheek gently so he looks up to me, I silently ask permission to move to his back. He gives me another nearly imperceptible nod, but doesn't look away this time, watching me as I turn my attention to the cavernous gouges where his wings had been.

He hisses as the water flows down his back, but makes no attempt to move away. I can still feel his eyes on me causing my face to heat under his gaze. Somehow this moment felt intimate and suddenly I was self-conscious and worry gripped me at the thought of how he would feel about all of this once his emotions cooled.

Pushing the thought aside I finished cleaning his back, taking care not to actually touch the open skin. Feeling the weight of the intimacy increase I make quick work to rinse his legs before turning to stop the water and hang the shower head back up, reaching around the open door to grab the towel that hung there. I ran the soft cloth over his arms and shoulders, avoiding his back, before sliding down each leg, drying him the best I could.

Lucifer:

I can't really make sense of what is happening. I'm vaguely aware that I'm in the shower now, but not sure how I got there or how the water is running over my body. I can only hang on to the edge of the bench, willing the room to stop spinning around me. Something is touching my face.

The world stills as I look up to see her looking down at me. Her mouth sits in a gentle curve below the soft blue pools in her eyes. I'm almost startled for a second to realize it's her that's washing me. Her eyes dart behind me for a moment and I realize why she's stopped. I want to stop her, the moment feeling too... too... something. But instead, I grant her permission to continue.

The warm water stings when it washes over me, causing the edges of my vision to dim again, but I can't pull my eyes from her. I watch as she takes her time, her eyes burning my already hot flesh as she inspects the wounds. Once she seems satisfied, she quickly rinses my legs and turns from me, shutting off the water and turning back with a towel in hand. Again, I want to stop her but I can't.

Once I'm dry I let her help me up again, leading me out of the bathroom and over to the bed. I sit on the edge, drawing in few deep breaths before I dare to look at her again. She looks nervous, still gripping the towel in her hands. Swallowing hard I reach out, grabbing only the fabric, careful to avoid actually touching her, "Thank you." I offer, unable to think of anything else.

Before I can react, her lips are on mine, drawing me into a tender kiss. I freeze, unable to process my reality for a moment, but fighting to cling to her, the only light I can see. My arms reach up to wrap around her, but I'm careful not to push, afraid of scaring her away. I feel her move closer to me, deepening the kiss. What started as a gentle comfort has somehow sparked into something... more. My head is spinning again with the sudden change and I tighten my embrace just enough to feel anchored.

She's in my lap now, knees straddling me and pushing more urgently against me, opening her lips against mine. Her hands come to rest on either side of my face and a moan escapes me, my body fighting the effort it takes to let her stay in control. My stomach is flipping with dizzying emotions as her tongue passes across my bottom lip, slipping into my mouth. Her hands slide down over my shoulders to my back, grazing over the raw open skin, and I pull back, wincing against the pain. Quickly she's off my lap and a few feet away.

"I'm so sorry Lucifer," she stumbles, "I forgot for a sec… I didn't mean to…" I can see the flash of fear in her eyes and my chest lurches. Again, I find myself paralyzed, too afraid to move for fear she would just disappear like smoke. "Are you okay?" Her voice is small, timid, but concerned.

I nod, finally finding my voice, "I'm… fine. I was just surprised, is all." The moment is gone.

Instead, she straightens a little, "Do you want me to…" She gestures behind me, "I mean, I could get some bandages or something."

My fear loosens just slightly as I realize what she's offering. I agree, finding it almost ridiculous to argue since she's already showered me… kind of. I watch as she disappears down the hall, trying desperately to make sense of what is happening, before she reappears carrying a few rolls of gauze and tape. Before I can try to move, she's behind me. I hear the crinkle of the plastic ripping open and brace myself for the contact that is coming, but this touch is much more gentle than a moment ago.

She makes quick work of bandaging up my wounds, "Okay, it's not perfect, but at least you shouldn't bleed all over everything." She comments as she settles down on the edge of the bed next to me.

"Thanks… again." I try to offer her a small grin but it, and my eyes, fall short, "You really didn't have to do that." I mumble.

Her hand is on my chin again, forcing me to look at her, "I /wanted/ to." I can't look. My eyes drop again, and she releases my chin, her hand coming down to rest over mine. "Would you like me to leave now?" her voice is small again.

Yes.

"No."