Actions

Work Header

Fever Dreams

Summary:

Lucifer isn’t about to let an odd chill stop him from seeing Chloe. He wants to tell her everything.... No more going backwards.
And so he reveals himself -- just not in the way he intended.

Post S2x18 AU where Lucifer doesn’t get knocked out and dragged to the desert.
One shot.

For Tumblr's Deckerstar Summer Exchange.

Notes:

Surprise, ruxian! Here is your Deckerstar summer gift! I hope you like it! <3 :D

A big thank you to Navaros for helping me with the summary. You rock! <3

This fic has not been beta-ed, so I apologize for all mistakes.

 

Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar and Chloe Decker are owned by Vertigo Comics, DC Comics, Neil Gaiman, Mike Carey, and everyone else involved with the Lucifer TV show and comic books. I own nothing and make no money on this. I merely am borrowing the characters for... uh... writing practice.

Work Text:

 

 

“I want to tell you everything....  No more going backwards.”

Lucifer hung up the phone and took a deep breath.  He could do this -- he could tell Chloe who he was.  It shouldn’t be too hard... should it?  A wry smile touched his lips.  Right.  He had only been trying to tell her he was the Devil since the day they met, and she still didn’t believe him... but this time he was going to show her undeniable proof of who he was.

Hopping into the Corvette, he gunned the engine and pulled out of the hospital parking lot with a squeal of tires.  His insides vibrated like a hummingbird’s wings as his heart pounded in his chest, and his hands shook against the steering wheel.  Tightening his grip, he bit his lower lip and told himself over and over that she would understand... even though he didn’t believe it.

He had never run across a human who didn’t react badly to his true self.  Insanity was the usual route people took.  Even Doctor Linda hadn’t reacted well -- hiding and not answering his calls -- until Maze brought her around.  Lucifer didn’t have such high hopes for Chloe.  The truth would push her so far past her limits that she would demand he move to another city, and even then she’d think he was too close.

No, he had no illusions.  She would hate him after this -- hate him, despise him, fear him.

Destroying himself by telling her the truth wasn’t something he looked forward to, but he knew it could no longer be avoided.  He loved her with everything he had, everything he was.  Why, he had even gone to Hell for her -- twice!  He had deliberately torn his own heart into shreds just to give her back the freedom to choose whom to love.  She meant that much to him.

The sun, the moon and the stars all revolved around Chloe -- beautiful, wonderful, kind Chloe -- and so did he.  Somehow he had gotten pulled into her orbit, and now he was burning up in her atmosphere as he got closer and closer to her.  By the time he was done tonight, his entire being would be ashes, and nothing would ever be the same again.

As he navigated the streets of Los Angeles, an odd chill ran down his spine.  That was strange -- he had never felt that before.  Was it fear from the upcoming confrontation?  He let out a little chuckle.  It couldn’t be.  He was afraid of nothing -- except, perhaps, Mum when she was on the warpath.  Maybe it was the cool night air, although the cold had never bothered him before.  Should he put the top up?  No -- he was the Devil!  The Devil never drove a convertible with the top up, unless it was raining!

Resisting the urge to pull his suit jacket closer around him, he kept his hands on the steering wheel and floored the gas pedal.  It was just nerves -- surely that’s all it was...?

 

________________________________________

 

 

Chloe listened to Lucifer’s message with surprise, then played it a second time with growing excitement.  Was he finally going to trust her with his secrets?  After being partners with him for over a year and seeing all of the weird things that happened around him, she really wanted him to talk to her, tell her about himself... but she didn’t want to force it out of him.  No, she wanted him to come of his own free will and tell her -- trust her.  They were partners, after all, and what was a partnership without trust?

Oh, he said he trusted her, but he didn’t -- not really.  He had known about the case they had just finished with Charlotte Richards, and yet had told her nothing.  Was he afraid to tell her of his past?  He hadn’t existed six years ago, after all, and had suffered quite a bit of abuse from his father -- the scars on his back were a testament to that.  Trust came hard for him, and at times he was almost like a wild animal, striking out at the hand that fed him.  The time when he went off the deep end, yet still refused to talk to her, had hurt -- but she’d kept on chipping away at his anger and self-hatred.  Under all that sarcasm and his self-destructive tendencies lay a frightened, distrustful soul, afraid to be hurt again.  She saw the good in him, even if he didn’t, so she kept trying to show him that he had nothing to fear when he was with her.

Was tonight finally going to be the breakthrough she had been working so hard for?

Since Trixie made Lucifer uncomfortable, she called Dan and asked him to take care of their daughter for the night.  He came right away and didn’t ask any questions, for which she was grateful.  Dan had finally accepted the end of their relationship and thankfully they remained friends, but his relationship with her partner was still a bit strained.  She didn’t want to stir up bad feelings by telling him who she was seeing tonight.

Maze had already texted to tell her she’d be spending the night at the hospital with Linda, so Chloe had the whole apartment to herself.  Making herself comfortable on the couch, she sat down and waited, hoping this wasn’t going to turn into a case of him losing his nerve and ditching her again....

But tonight she was not disappointed.  A knock on the door heralded his arrival.  With her heart beating frantically in her chest, she opened the door.

“Hello, Detective.”

Lucifer stood before her, looking exactly like he had when he had left her on the pier -- scruffy hair, unkempt clothes, and his shirt partially unbuttoned.  With his five o’clock shadow darker than usual, he looked like a wreck, and yet she thought he had never looked so good... although he seemed a bit pale.  Was he nervous?  She frowned as she opened the door wider and beckoned him inside.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he passed her.  “You look a little... off.”

As he turned toward her, she saw that his eyes were fever-bright.  “I... I’m not feeling altogether myself.”

And then he collapsed in a pile at her feet.

“Oh god -- Lucifer!”  Crouching beside him, she felt his forehead.  He was burning up -- she was shocked at the heat pouring off of him.  “Dammit, you shouldn’t have come if you were sick.  This could have waited until you were better.”

A weak chuckled escaped him.  “I was fine... at the hospital.  J-just started feeling... a little peaked on the way... here.”

She fished out her phone from her pocket.  “Hang on, I’ll call 9-1-1.”

“No!”  His vehement response surprised her, and she nearly dropped her phone.  “No hospital.”

“But Lucifer --”

He shook his head.  “No.  Please, Detective.  I’ll be fine.  Just... just let me s-stay with you.  It will pass.  It’s nothing.”

Chloe’s brows drew together as she glared at him.  “You’re burning up.  You need medical care --”

With wild eyes, Lucifer grabbed her hand tightly, almost painfully.  “No hospital.  Promise me, Detective -- promise me!”

Shocked at his intense look, she put her phone away, then touched his cheek soothingly.  “Okay.  It’s okay, Lucifer, I won’t call 9-1-1.  No hospital tonight -- but if you’re not better by the morning you will go.”

His hand fell away as all tension left his body.  “Fair enough.”

Relieved at his acquiescence, she gave him a bolstering smile.  “Let’s get you off the floor, okay?”  Tugging him into a sitting position, she managed to get his arm around her shoulders and grabbed his waist with her free hand.  “Can you stand?”

“I... don’t know.  My legs... don’t feel right.”

“Well, let’s give it a try.”  Chloe lifted with her knees, pushing off the floor until she stood with him half-draped over her.  Deceptively slender, he was all muscle and much heavier than she expected.  Staggering under his weight, she struggled to get him moving.  The couch?  No -- if he was ill, he’d be miserable there.

“Come on, let’s get you into my bed.”

Even though he looked like death warmed over, he grinned wickedly at her.  “Well... never thought I’d hear you p-proposition me, Detective.  Are you f-finally succumbing to my ch-charms?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Oh yeah, sure, Lucifer.  I always proposition men who look ready to pass out with fever.  Now come on.”

Weaving like two drunks, they maneuvered up the stairs and into her bedroom, where he fell face down onto her bed like a dead man.  Swearing under her breath, Chloe shoved him further onto the bed, then struggled to get his suit jacket off.

“Why... Detective... so aggressive.  L-Lucifer likes!”  Despite his flirty words, his voice was weak and thready.

“Shut up.”  Chloe threw the jacket on the floor, then stripped him of his shirt and pried off his shoes and socks.  Eyeing him as he lay there, she realized she’d never be able to get his pants off.  It was like trying to undress a corpse -- he was dead weight and not helping at all.  Sighing with resignation, she pulled open the covers and rolled him into a more comfortable position.  Oddly enough, other than a groan, he didn’t even protest.

Violent tremors shook his frame.  Grabbing the blankets with greedy hands, he pulled them up to his chin as his teeth chattered.  “Cold... so cold....”

“Hang on, Lucifer.  I’ll be right back.”  Running downstairs, Chloe grabbed a couple of Advil along with a glass of water and hurried back to him.  His eyes were closed and, if anything, he looked worse.  After placing the glass on the nightstand, she leaned over him and tapped him on the arm.

“Hey, come on.  You have to take this before you pass out.”

Opening his eyes, he gave her a baleful stare -- or what would have been, if he hadn’t looked so ill.  “Th-the Devil never p-passes out.”

“Tell me that again in five minutes.  Here.”  She handed him the pills, then helped him sit up.  When she passed him the glass of water, he shook so badly that he nearly spilled the liquid inside.  Placing a steadying hand over his, she helped him drink after he took the medicine, then slipped the glass from his fingers.  After replacing it on the nightstand, she helped him get settled.  Her heart squeezed in her chest as she studied his huddled figure.  Even buried as he was under the blankets, she could still see him trembling violently.

She felt his forehead again -- he was still burning up.  Hurrying to the bathroom, she fetched a cool, wet washcloth, but by the time she returned to his side, he had already fallen asleep.  Folding it into thirds, she placed it on his forehead, then grabbed a nearby chair and settled in for a long night.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Flying from star to star, he ignited the giant orbs of gas and watched them burst into flame.  Watching the sky light up a little at a time never ceased to thrill him.  He felt especially proud whenever he put the final touches on a galaxy -- like the Milky Way.  From certain angles it almost looked like a bridge across the sky.  The Andromeda and the Black Eye galaxies weren’t bad, but the Milky Way was his favorite.

Flying into the Silver City, he touched down on the palace steps and walked inside the huge structure to see his father.

“Dad, I’ve finished the job you gave me!” he called out happily as he entered the throne room.

“Samael, how many times have I told you not to call me Dad?”

He hunched his shoulders.  “I’m sorry, Father.  I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”  Then a smile lit his face as excitement washed over him.  “Now will you come see?”

His father barely looked at him.  “I can’t right now, Samael.  I’ve got something in the works.  Go play with your brothers, will you?”

His mouth dropped open as his insides went cold.  “But... but Father, you promised --”

“Well I’ve got my hands full.  Now get going -- you’re being a pest.”

He thrust his lip out and stamped his foot.  “You never keep your promises!”

That earned him a glare from his father.  “Samael, so help me, if you do not leave this instant, I will thrash the living daylights out of you.  Now go.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as his face grew hot.  “I’m sorry, Father....”

“You should be.  Now leave me alone.”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“I’m... sorry... Father....”

As Chloe listened to Lucifer’s feverish ramblings, her insides wound tighter and tighter and her head started to pound.  If there was one thing she could not stand, it was a father who wasn’t there for his child.  From the sound of it, Lucifer’s father wasn’t one who kept his promises.  How many times had he let Lucifer down?  Just the thought drove up her blood pressure.  God, she wanted to shoot someone!

Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten and let it out slowly.  Okay, she could do this -- she could pull up the old detective professionalism and stay calm.  Having a conniption fit wouldn’t help anyone right now, least of all Lucifer.  He needed her, even if he was stuck in the past and completely unaware of his surroundings.  The best she could do for him right now was to take care of him.

Wiping down his brow, she frowned at the blazing heat radiating off of him in waves.  If she didn’t know better, she would have said he was on fire.  Pulling the covers away from his chest, she gasped at the sight.  His skin was red and beginning to peel, as if he had been sunburnt -- he definitely hadn’t been like that earlier.  Perhaps it was some strange reaction to the flu or whatever illness he seemed to have contracted?

Rising to her feet, she grabbed the wet washcloth from his forehead and rinsed it out in the bathroom.  Grabbing a nearby bath towel, she soaked and wrung it out as well, then brought them both back to her partner.  After placing the washcloth back on his head, she opened the damp towel and laid it over his chest.  His body tensed as he hissed at the cold sensation, but he did not wake up.  In a matter of seconds he relaxed again, falling into an easier sleep.

Reaching over, she swept the damp curls away from his forehead.  “I’m here, Lucifer.”

She had no idea if he heard her or not.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“You defied me by taking your brothers!  You led them into rebellion!”

The words thundered in his ears as he stood before his angry father.  Instead of bowing his head, he lifted his chin and glared at his parent.  “It wasn’t a rebellion!  We just went on a little joy ride, Father.  That’s all it was -- a little taste of freedom.  You have us pinned under your thumb so tightly that we can’t even breathe!  Can’t you understand --”

“I understand that you disobeyed a direct order!  I specifically told you not to go near Earth.”

“We didn’t do anything --”

“Silence!  Don’t talk back to me, boy.  I want --”

“You want, you want!  Doesn’t what I want matter?  Doesn’t what any of us want matter?  All you think about is yourself as you move us around like chess pieces, but what you don’t realize is that we have feelings!  We have rights!  The right to be free!  The right to free will --”

“You have no free will!”

“I do!  I do have free will, you manipulative bastard, and I refuse to let you cow me into doing what you want --”

His father rose from his throne, seething.  “You dare to speak to me that way?!  I am your father!”

Anger burned within him, scorching his insides like a wildfire out of control... because he was.  Out of control.  “And what kind of father are you?!  You don’t even care about your own children --”

His father stepped up and backhanded him.  “Shut up, Samael.  I order you to shut up.”

Spitting the blood from his mouth, he glared at his father.  “You can’t order me to shut up, Father -- not when it’s the truth!”

“Shut up!”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“Not... when it’s... the truth!”  A hallucinating Lucifer yelled into the room around him.  He’d been quiet for an hour, but Chloe had been awakened from her doze by his restless movements -- and then he began to mumble again, then talk.

Listening to the one-sided conversation, she stared wide-eyed at her partner as he thrashed on the bed.  God, what kind of monster was his father, who kept his children under such tight control that they couldn’t even go out for a joy ride?

Yes, she had wanted to know about his past, but not like this.  Not when he had to relive all of the pain he had suffered under his father.  Reaching out, she grasped his hand, but he knocked it away.  Not one to be easily dissuaded, she grabbed it again, this time with both hands, and held on.

“I’m here.  I’m here, Lucifer.  Can you hear me?  I’ve got you.  It’s going to be okay.”

But her words fell on deaf ears as he continued to toss and turn on the bed.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“You’re... casting me out?”  He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Surely his father couldn’t be serious...?!  He took a step forward, but his other siblings pushed him back.

“You heard me, Samael.  I’m casting you into Hell,” his father said.  “It’s where you belong.”

“Belong?!  You think I belong in Hell?!”  A harsh laugh escaped him, filled with hatred and hurt.  “Father, how can you do this to me?  All I did was take my siblings out --”

“To Earth -- against my orders!  And you talked back to me, which is inexcusable!  You defied me and I will not tolerate insubordination from anyone -- especially you.”

“But Father --”  He turned frantic eyes to his mother.  “Mum!  Mum, please, talk to him.  Tell him what you told me... that there’s nothing wrong with a little freedom.  Even you said that you were sick of his manipulating ways.  Mum --”

She stared at him impassively, then looked away.  Her silence said it all.

“Mum!” he yelled as his brother Michael strode up to him, yanked his arms behind his back and forced him out of the throne room.  “Father -- Mum -- please!  Please, don’t send me to Hell!  Please!  Please!”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“Please!”   Lucifer cried, caught in the web of his dreams.

Afraid he was going to hurt himself with his thrashing about, Chloe threw herself on top of him and tried to stop his movements.  Her heart wept at his torment.  His father had cast him out of the house and his mother had stood by and done nothing?  For something as small as a joy ride?  Obviously both his parents were asses!

“I’m here, it’s okay.  Please, wake up....”

But he continued to struggle, twisting and turning as he panted hard and strained against her.  His cries turned into soft whimpers, and for a moment his body went slack.  Relieved, Chloe loosened her hold on him.

And then he started to scream.

Only he wasn’t screaming as if frightened -- he screamed as if in incredible pain and agony, like he was dying in the worst way possible.  Thrashing around like a fish out of water, he bucked under her as he tossed his head from side to side, his eyes tightly shut.  Even unconscious, he was incredibly strong -- his frantic movements threw her to the floor.  Scowling, she jumped back on top of him.  She’d be damned if she let him hurt himself!

“Lucifer!” she yelled as she tightened her hold on him.  “Lucifer, I’m here!  Wake up!”

His eyes suddenly flew open, but they were blind, unseeing, as they stared up at the ceiling.  The screaming stopped as his back suddenly arched off the bed, his head thrown back against the pillows.  He lay there with his teeth clenched, his neck muscles corded, as he bore his torment in silence.

His voiceless agony was even more hair-raising than his screaming.  Gently caressing his face, Chloe whispered, “Lucifer, hang on.  I’m here.  Please --”

But as she stroked his cheek, his skin started to... melt, until all that was left was a caricature of a human being, all muscle and ligaments stretched over bone and oozing blood.  Gasping, she scrambled off the bed and stared at him with horrified eyes, unable to see the Lucifer she knew.  If she hadn’t been touching him when it happened, she never would have believed it was him.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” she whispered, her eyes glued to his rigid body.  She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.  This couldn’t be happening.   No.  There was no way Lucifer had just turned into the Incredible Melting Man right before her eyes.  This was a dream.  She was asleep, in the throes of a nightmare --

He groaned as the rigidity left his body -- a sound full of anguish.  It knocked Chloe out of her shock, and her gaze flew to the skinless figure, raw and in agony.  This was Lucifer.  Her partner, who was suffering terribly... and that was enough to get her moving again.  Swallowing hard, she forced her eyes to the man on the bed and studied him.

As she got over the shock of his appearance, she could see Lucifer in the shape of his face, his slender frame, and his eyes which, although red, were still his own.  And she realized that it wasn’t so much that he was skinless -- he had horrible third and fourth degree burns all over his body.  It was a wonder that he still lived.

“Dear lord --”  Pulling herself together, she crept up to his side and reached out a trembling hand to his cheek.  “L-Lucifer....”

At her touch, his eyes flew to her face, still red and lacking any kind of recognition whatsoever.  He pushed away from her so suddenly that he fell out of bed in a tangle of sheets and blankets.  With a roar he tore the bedding in half to escape it, and huge, white wings erupted from his back, knocking over the lamp and plunging the room into darkness.  As she stared in wonder at his figure limned with moonlight, he looked left and right, then turned.  Her window shattered as one of his feathered appendages punched through it.  Howling as the glass cut his wing, he overturned a nightstand and clawed the wall like a wild animal trying to escape.

Oh god, he was going to destroy her room!

She sprang to her feet and rushed toward him.  Despite his demonic appearance and his crazed behavior, she wasn’t afraid of him.  This was Lucifer, and she knew he’d never hurt her -- no matter what state of mind he was in.  As he whirled on her, his teeth bared, she stopped short and held up her hands.

“Lucifer, it’s me -- Chloe.  Remember me?”

He blinked at her, uncomprehending.

As gently as she could, she said, “Chloe.  Your partner.  Remember?”  Very slowly she eased toward him.  “We met over a year ago.  You told me you were the Devil.  I never believed you... until now.”

He growled at her like a feral animal and backed up, bumping against the wall.  His feathers scraped against the drywall like knives, and his eyes darted left and right, as if searching for an escape.

“Remember the good times we had?  The hug after we got my father’s killer?  The kiss on the beach?”

His eyes narrowed at her words.  “I remember no such thing, human.”  His voice was low and rumbling, like thunder.  It sent vibrations through her insides, like the deep thumping of a college drumline.

“Don’t you remember me, Lucifer?  I’m Chloe.”  She took another step forward, holding her hands up to show she meant him no harm.  Not that she could harm him....  He was the Devil -- no.  Now was not the time to think of that.  This was Lucifer, her partner... and he was suffering.  She could help him, she knew she could.

He cocked his head at her, looking so much like the Lucifer she knew, despite his lack of skin.  “Chloe?”

She nodded.  “Yes!  Yes.  Chloe -- your friend.  Remember?”

For a second the red faded from his eyes, and she saw a flash of recognition in them.  “C-Chloe?”  But then the red returned, and he edged toward the corner of the room, smashing his wings against the wall.  Baring his teeth once again, he growled, “I have no friends.  Friends... family....  They all abandoned me.  They hate me.  I have no one.”

Chloe’s heart tightened painfully in her chest at his sad exclamation, stated so matter-of-factly.  “You have me.  I’m your friend.”  Reaching out, she gently touched his cheek.

The light pressure of her fingers seemed to calm him immediately, for he looked at her with confusion, then pushed himself into the corner.  As he stared at her, his eyes reverted back to warm chocolate brown and the skin slowly reappeared on his body.  Chloe gasped at the transformation as he slowly sank to the floor and huddled there.

“Lucifer....”  She kneeled next to him.

He didn’t respond at first, just sat with his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs.  His body glistened with sweat, catching the rays of moonlight and giving him an almost ethereal glow.  Chloe could see the fine tremor in his hand as he lifted it to bite his thumbnail.  His wary eyes studied her as he pressed himself against the wall.  His voice was shaky and full of trepidation when he spoke.  “Are... are you here to hurt me?”

Her mouth fell open at his childlike demeanor, his heartbreaking fear.  Gone was the smug, confident, annoying, funny, and gentle man she knew.  Instead before her was the core essence of him, stripped of all defenses -- the young boy that he had once been, and perhaps still was, deep inside.  “I’d... I’d never hurt you.”

“Everyone hates me.  They say I’m bad -- not worthy.  My brothers make fun of me.  Mummy ignores me.  Father says I’m a pest.”

Fury rose up in Chloe, so hot and bright she thought she’d explode.  “Your family is filled with asses.”

His eyes grew wide, and he shrank back from her.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry -- please don’t send me away!”

Oh god....  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then pulled up a smile and gentled her voice to a soft cadence.  “I would never do that.  It’s okay -- I’m not mad at you.”  She slowly released her breath as she watched the tension ease from his body.

“Why don’t Father and Mummy love me?” he asked in a plaintive voice.  “Am I that bad?”

A sharp pain stabbed Chloe’s heart as tears crowded her throat.  “No.  Not bad at all.”

Lucifer’s gaze fell to the floor. Unshed tears glimmered in his eyes like stardust.  “I just want them to love me.”

Biting her lower lip, Chloe pondered on how to best give solace.  Had this been Trixie, she would have pulled her into a hug, but it wasn’t.  It was Lucifer... a neglected, abused Lucifer trapped in a childlike state, completely open with all his defenses stripped away.  Moving slowly so as not to scare him, she reached out and tried to touch his knee, but he flinched away from her.

Her heart wept at his reaction.  God, did his family know what they had done to him?  Did they realize how badly they had damaged his psyche?  No wonder he was so self-destructive, so full of self-loathing.  It was infinitely sad that his first instinct was to cringe away from the comfort she offered.  Indignation burned within her, but she tamped it down, buried it deep.  Now was not the time for that.  As she gazed down into his frightened eyes, she found her throat aching and her vision blurry from the sudden moisture in them.  “I won’t hurt you.  I promise.”

For a moment he hesitated, doubt abundant in his eyes, before he reached out with a shaking hand to trace one of the tears running down her face.  “You’re crying.  Why?”

Sniffing, she gave him a crooked smile.  “Because you were hurt, and you deserved so much better than what you had been given.”

After wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he stared at her with wonder. “You cry... for me?”

She nodded.  “Yes.”

“Oh.”  The tension slowly left his body.  Emboldened by the lowering of his guard, Chloe edged close, until she sat right next to him.  Like a trusting child, he snuggled next to her and closed his eyes.

As he slowly dropped off to sleep, she studied his face in the moonlight.  He looked so young, so innocent.  It was hard to believe that he was the root of all evil... but he wasn’t, was he?  He was self-absorbed and childish, but he was far from evil.  If anything, he had a kind, gentle heart, and hid his sensitivity and insecurities under a thick layer of sarcasm.  No, he wasn’t evil at all.

Her gaze shifted to his white wings, beautiful and pristine. Didn’t he say Maze had cut them off?  But they were back now, apparently.  She reached out to the huge appendages, but stopped short of actually touching them.  He was in such a fragile state of mind right now -- she didn’t want to freak him out even further.  Instead she swept the hair off of his forehead, and was surprised to find that the fever had broken.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she gazed tenderly down at him, and found herself overcome by a fierce protectiveness.  He had been neglected, reviled, and abused in the worst way possible.  No wonder he had such a low opinion of himself... but she would do everything in her power to fix that.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again,” she whispered to him.  “I promise.”

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

A shaft of sunlight fell on Lucifer’s face, right across his eyes, waking him up.  For a moment he lay there, blinking in the bright light as he tried to figure out where he was.  He was curled up on the floor of a room that looked completely trashed, with his head on... someone’s lap?  It must have been one hell of a night.  His lips were fever-parched, his skin felt burned like he had been baking in the sun, and his back felt... weird.  Odd.  Heavy, like he had....

Oh no.  No.  Dad wouldn’t have... would he?

Lifting his head, he saw one of his big white, feathery wings covering him like a blanket.  Bloody hell, Dad really had given him back those bloody limbs.  But why?  Why would he do such a thing?!  And what did it mean?

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to remember the previous night, but everything was a blank from the time he knocked on Chloe’s door to the very moment when he opened his eyes this morning.  Why had he wanted to see her in the first place?  Oh -- that’s right.  He was going to tell her everything... only on the way over, chills had suddenly come over him, sending tremors through his body and causing his limbs to grow achy.  No doubt the fever had been part of the “gift” from dear old Dad.   Lovely.  Just lovely.

Levering himself off the floor, he turned to see on whose lap he had been lying.  He nearly fell over in shock at the sight of the detective peacefully sleeping away, a soft snore escaping her.  Oh no.  She must have seen his gigantic wings -- there was no way she could have missed them.  She couldn’t deny who he was now.

With a sigh, he pulled himself to his feet, then gazed around her room.  What had happened to make it such a wreck?  Had that been him?  It had to have been, although he couldn’t remember anything.  His heart fluttered against his chest like a bird struggling to escape a cage, and his complexion grew pale.  Had he hurt her?  She looked unharmed, but she must have been terror-stricken.  Shame washed over him as he tucked his wings away.  She must hate him now, even though he had found himself sleeping in her lap.  He probably hadn’t given her the chance to escape him.  Crammed in the corner as she was, he must have been pinning her in.  Had she been screaming in fear as he accosted her?  His insides felt hollow as he rubbed his face with both hands.  Hell.  Bloody, bloody hell.  He had wanted to tell her gently, give her time to acclimate to the idea, not attack her like the Devil he was!

Mortified, he realized he couldn’t stay, couldn’t bear to face her when she woke up.  No doubt she’d scream her head off at him -- maybe even shoot him.  No, he’d have to leave -- there was no way he could stay in Los Angeles now.  And yet he hesitated.  He couldn’t leave her crammed in the corner on the floor -- she’d be completely stiff when she awoke.  Reaching down, he gently picked her up and cradled her in his arms.  Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the feel of her soft, warm body against his.

When she stirred in his arms, he froze, but she didn’t waken.  Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned to the bed and gently laid her down.  Thankfully she didn’t rouse while he held her, for he was sure she would have started screaming uncontrollably.  Grimacing, he reached down and picked up the ripped blankets from the floor.  He’d really done a number on her room -- he’d have to replace all the damaged items and send workers over later to clean it all up.  With a sigh, he covered her with the material, then swiftly snatched up his things from the floor.

As quiet as a mouse, he left.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

The morning sun awoke Chloe, despite suffering the ill effects of lack of sleep from the night before.  Her head felt full of cotton, and an unceasing hammering behind her eyes made her want to scream in agony.  Groaning and wishing the throbbing in her head would stop, she rolled to her back on the bed.  Wait -- bed?  Why was she on the bed?  The last thing she remembered was being on the floor, with Lucifer in her arms....

Lucifer!

Memories washed over her --  of Lucifer falling ill, his skin burning away, and his giant wings erupting from his back.  Sitting up in bed, she glanced around her.  Although she didn’t see her partner anywhere, her room still bore the evidence of the previous night’s events, with its overturned nightstand, the shattered window, and claw marks on the wall.  So... it had really happened.

Sighing, she pulled her knees toward her and rested her forehead on them as she wrapped her arms around her legs.  Lucifer was the Devil!  All this time he had been telling her the truth, but she’d refused to believe it.  No, that wasn’t quite true.  Deep inside she had known, hadn’t she?  She just hadn’t wanted to accept it, for that would mean having to face the reality of the situation.  God, the Devil, Heaven, Hell....

As she rubbed her hand over her face, the sight of his burned image came to mind, and her heart squeezed painfully.  There was no doubt that he had suffered greatly -- and still suffered, by the looks of it.  The agonized screams of the night before echoed in her head -- there was no question in her mind that he had been reliving his stint in Hell.  Had he been cast into a lake of fire?  Is that how he had been burned?  Or had it happened when he Fell?  Shuddering, she realized she didn’t want to know -- both options were equally horrifying.  What she did know was that he had been burned past the point of recognition, suffered incredible agony, and still lived.  No one deserved that -- not even the Devil.

But he wasn’t the Devil, was he?  At least, not the Devil everyone thought he was.  He wasn’t evil at all.  He could be selfish and childish at times, but he didn’t encourage mankind to do wicked things.  Deep inside he had a good heart.  After all, he was always trying to help her with her cases, bringing the bad guys to justice....  If he was “The Devil,” wouldn’t he be trying to help them escape, instead?  But he didn’t do that.

No, he was Lucifer Morningstar, who just happened to be a fallen angel.  It was still a bit hard to wrap her head around that concept, but there was no more avoiding that fact.  He had wings -- beautiful wings -- and a horribly burned visage, thanks to his ass of a father.  And he was her partner.

Her partner....  That thought set her heart aglow, surprisingly.  She was glad of having him in her life.  He was good to her, protected her, worked with her, and made her a better detective.  He was the best partner she had ever had -- and truth be told, she still harbored feelings for him, although she kept them buried so deep that no one would ever know.  She trusted him.  Even knowing who and what he was didn’t change that fact.

Lifting her head, she took a deep breath and let it out again.  She had to tell her partner that she didn’t care he was the Devil -- that it made absolutely no difference to her.  He was still Lucifer, no matter what he looked like.  Pleased with her decision, she pulled herself out of bed.  Chances were that he was in the kitchen, starting breakfast.  The idea of the actual Devil making her delicious food had her chuckling as she padded down the stairs.

But when she went to the kitchen, he wasn’t there.  In fact, a search of the entire apartment yielded no Lucifer.  Instead she found a note resting on the dining table, written in his angular scrawl, which had her swearing up a storm before running up to her room to get dressed.

On the note was written I’m sorry, and goodbye.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

“You’re leaving.”

Starting at the sound of Chloe’s voice, Lucifer whirled around to see her standing by the elevator with a frown on her face.   She looked beautiful in a pretty sweater and leggings, with those smart boots that he loved seeing on her -- a far better sight than him in his trousers and rolled up shirtsleeves.  Awash with awkwardness, he looked at the sheet he had just laid on his beloved piano, then back at her.  He hadn’t expected her to show up.  Why was she here?  If anything, she should be trying to stay as far away from him as possible....

“Ah.  Yes.  Right.  Leaving.  Yes.”  He cleared his throat and tried to paste a smile on his face, although he feared it probably looked more like a grimace.  His world might have been shattered, but that didn’t mean hers needed to be.  “You needn’t worry, Detective.  I won’t be returning this time.”

A teasing smile played about her lips as she took a few steps toward him before faltering to a stop.  “At least not with a wife on your arm, I hope.”

“I won’t be returning at all.”  Pain stabbed his heart, but he ignored it.  He fiddled with the sheet before smoothing it down over the piano top and backing away a step.  Shooting her a wry smile, he tried not to notice her suddenly pale complexion or her darkening expression.  “Know anyone interested in a good piano?  Slightly used, but well taken care of.”  A rueful chuckle escaped him.  “I don’t suppose you -- nay.”  He looked away as his insides cringed.  Of course she wouldn’t want any reminders of him.  “I suppose not.”

“Lucifer --” she said, but he cut her off.

“Right.  I’m sorry about your apartment.”  Glancing worriedly at her, he asked, “I... I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  He grimaced at the wobble in his voice.

She shook her head.  “No, not at all.”

“Good!  Good.”  The tightness in his chest eased, and he let out a sigh before recalling that he had still scared her out of her mind.  Wincing at the thought, he edged over to an armchair and picked up the folded sheet he had placed on it.  Once he had shaken it out, he draped it over the chair.  “I’ll make sure your place gets repaired, and I’ll compensate you for the damages.  I’ll get that done before I leave.”

He sensed her approaching him and so, like a coward, he moved farther away.  He couldn’t face her.  To see the disgust and hatred in her eyes would be more than he could bear.  Busying himself with shaking out another sheet, he carefully draped it on the other armchair.  The key was to keep busy.  If he could just do that, he could pretend that everything was normal, and they could part ways with the illusion of civility, at least.

“Where will you go?”  Her voice was quiet behind him.

“Oh, the East Coast, perhaps.  Georgia, maybe.  Or New Orleans -- the jazz there is wonderful.  Devil’s music, you know.”  He tried to laugh, then realized what he had said.  Biting his lower lip, he cursed himself ten times over for reminding her of what he was.  “I... I mean, it’s a beautiful city.  Lots of history.”

Keep busy, keep busy.....

Grabbing another sheet, he covered the couch.  “Of course, Wyoming might be nice.  Wide open spaces, you know.”  Bloody hell, he was rambling -- badly and nonsensically.  Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut?  But no -- he had to be afflicted with verbal diarrhea.

He shot a quick glance in her general direction, careful not to make eye contact.  “Shouldn’t you be looking after your little spawn?”

“Dan is taking care of her this morning.”

“Oh.  Then... ah... work.  Surely you have work?”

She shook her head.  “Something more important came up.”

More important than work?  Whatever could that be? Surely it couldn’t have anything to do with him.  “Ah.  Then you best get to it, then.”

“Lucifer...”

Was this when she told him how much she loathed him?  He couldn’t bear that.  Running away suddenly seemed like a good idea.  Perhaps he could retire to his bedroom -- she wouldn’t follow him there, would she?  Well... she might, but... surely not into the bathroom?  He could hole up there until she left....

A rueful chuckle escaped him.  How shameful was it that he had to hide because he was too afraid to face her?  His shoulders slumped at the thought.  He was a pathetic Devil.

“I should let you go.  I have to... ah... retire to my bedroom --”

“Lucifer....”

“Lots of packing to do, you understand.  How I ended up with quite so many things is beyond me, but there you have it --”

“Lucifer --”

“Did you want anything in the penthouse?  I’m not sure that much would interest you, but you are welcome to take what you want.  After all, we’ve been partners for over a year --”

“Lucifer!”

Her yell finally halted his non-stop, one-sided conversation.  Biting his lower lip, he shifted from foot to foot and cast a sheepish glance in her direction.  “Yes?”

Trepidation filled him as he watched her march right up to him.  Bloody hell, here it was....  Here was where she shot him and threw his corpse over the balcony.

“There is something I want.”

He gave her a crooked smile as he said with black humor, “My death?”

“What?!”  Her mouth fell open with shock.  “No!  Absolutely not that!”

“Then... what?”  What could she possibly want?  The sun, the moon, the stars....  He’d give her everything she wanted, if he could -- even lay the world at her feet, if she so desired.  “Name it, Detective, and it’s yours.”

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly before opening them again.  “You.”

He blinked.  That was the last thing he had expected her to say.  “I... I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”  Her aqua eyes were intense as she stared up at him.  “I want you to stay.”

Lucifer was sure he had misheard.  After all, she knew what he was -- a monster.  Why in the world would she ask him to stay?  Eyeing her with uncertainty, he said, “You... you mean you want me to stay until you get a new partner.”

“No.  I want you to stay.  Period.”

“I... I don’t understand....  You... you know what I am --”

She nodded.  “Yes.”

“So then why...?”  Then it occurred to him....  “It’s the wings, isn’t it?  They’ve driven you insane.”

“What?!”  Her mouth fell open.  “No!”

He backed away from her.  “Right.  There can be no other explanation -- you’ve been overwhelmed by the Divine.  Well, don’t worry, Detective, we can go see Doctor Linda in the hospital, and she’ll help you --”

Chloe glared at him.  “Lucifer, dammit, I’m not insane.”  Rubbing her forehead, she took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  “Will you please stop running away from me?”

“I... ah... right.”  Unsure what to do, he froze where he stood as he watched her approach.  His heart stuttered in his chest as she reached out and took his hand.  Her warm touch filled him with feelings he had no right to feel, but he was helpless to pull away.  Very gently, she led him to the couch.

“Come on, sit down.”  She sat down on the sheet, then patted the spot next to her.  “I won’t bite.”

Eager to change the subject, his eyes lit up at her words and he gave her a wicked grin.  “Ooooh, but Detective, I might like a playful nip or two from you, especially on my --”

“Stop hiding,” she interrupted, her voice firm and brooking no nonsense.

The smile fell from his face as he silently sank down beside her onto the sheet-covered cushions.  He was careful not to brush against her, for his insides were already wound up so tightly that he couldn’t breathe.  If he touched her, he was liable to do something incredibly stupid, like tell her he was madly in love with her, and he couldn’t have that.  Unable to stop his fidgeting, he let his heel tap the floor rapidly.  When her hand reached over to still his knee, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of.  I’d never hurt you.”

Odd, how her words made his insides melt into a puddle of goo.  He stared down at her hand still resting on his knee.  “I just don’t... understand.”  Glancing up, he studied her for a moment before his eyes slid away again.  “You know what I am.  You should be running away as fast as you can.”

“I’m not going to do that.”  She sighed.  “Look, it means a lot to me that you finally decided to talk to me, and now I understand why you were so reluctant to do so.”

“You should be frightened, Detective.  I don’t understand why you are not.”

“Because I know you, Lucifer.”  She reached over and took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his.  “Did you think that I wouldn’t forgive you for your mistakes or your flaws?”

The fallen angel’s gaze dropped down to their linked hands, then back to her face.  “But I’m the Devil, Detective....  You don’t know the real me.  I’m a monster --”

“Not a monster.  Never that.”  Chloe’s eyes were tender as they traced over his features.  “Childish, yes.  Selfish, at times.  Arrogant, smug, all of that.  But here --” She tapped his chest with her free hand.  “-- in here, you are sensitive, kind, gentle.  Beautiful.”

Lucifer’s eyes burned, and he blinked rapidly to force the tears away.  No one had ever said such things about him before.  Averting his gaze, he snorted.  “Hardly beautiful, Detective.  You don’t know what I really look like.”

“Yes, I do.”

Shock rippled through him at her words.  His heart stopped for a moment, then pounded furiously as a tightness in his chest strangulated the breath out of him.  “Y-you do?”  Yanking his hand from hers, he scooted away from her, right off the couch.  Falling onto the floor in a graceless pile, he choked out, “You’ve seen... me?”

Her face was the picture of calm as she nodded.  “Yes.  You showed me last night.  The burns looked incredibly painful and it hurts me to see you in such agony, but they don’t make you who you are.”

“I... I showed you?”  Horror shot through his insides while his mind reeled.   As the blood rushed from his face, he stammered, “How could I have shown....?”

She gave him a crooked smile.  “You were out of your head with fever.”

Shaking his head, he stared at her in alarm as he remembered the state of her bedroom.  “I could have killed you!”

“No.”  Her voice was strong with conviction.  “You’d never hurt me.”

Shame filled every part of his body.  “You couldn’t have known that, Detective.  Not when faced with....”

“I knew.”  Rising to her feet, Chloe made her way to his side and knelt beside him.  “Look, I’m not afraid of you, and I’ll prove it.  Show me your face.”

Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat before thumping so rapidly he thought he’d pass out.  All the air left his chest, but the tightness that remained made inhaling impossible, so he gaped instead as little choking noises came out of his mouth.  “Y-you... you’re joking,” he finally managed to say, then forced out a laugh.  It came out as more of a strangled gurgle.  ”This is some terrible prank you’re pulling on me....”

There was absolutely no humor in her eyes.  “I’m dead serious.  Show me, Lucifer.”

A kaleidoscope of butterflies suddenly swirled in his insides, struggling to escape.  The weirdly exciting, yet horrible feeling made him want to vomit.  “You’ll... you’ll go insane.”

Her mouth quirked upwards as she tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.  “I didn’t go insane yesterday.  I highly doubt I will today.”

Still, he hesitated.  He couldn’t hold her gaze -- was afraid to.  “But... but I am so very ugly....”

“You aren’t.  You’re horribly injured, but that doesn’t change who you are in here.”  She laid her hand on his chest, her touch whisper-light, then gave him an encouraging smile.  “Come on, Lucifer.  Show me.”

He still didn’t want to, but he could never deny her anything.  “V-very well.”

Keeping his face averted, he let his human visage recede, revealing his scarred and skinless head.  Shutting his eyes, he imagined the revulsion on her face -- the terror, the loathing.  Perhaps he could bolt and lock himself in the bathroom?  Considering what a horror he was, no one would blame him -- no one except himself, that is, for being such a coward and hiding like some angst-ridden teenager instead of facing her head-on like a brave Devil.

Gentle fingers took a hold of his chin and turned his head her way.

“Open your eyes, Lucifer.”

With his heart throbbing in his chest, he swallowed hard and slowly pried open his eyelids.  Bending over him, Chloe filled his field of vision -- only she didn’t look repulsed.  Her lips curved up in a kind smile and her aqua eyes were filled with compassion.  The feather-light stroke of her fingers against his cheek brought a burning warmth to his face.

“Does it hurt if I touch you?” she asked.

Unable to get his voice to work properly, afraid that this was all a dream, he kept his eyes glued to hers as he shook his head.  His breath caught in his chest, unable to escape, and everything inside of him twisted, tightened, wound him up like a toy, only there was no way to unleash the coiled spring inside of him.  He was floundering, helpless, tossed about on a sea full of emotions he didn’t understand.  His head swam as dizziness grabbed a hold of him, tilting the world this way and that.

“I’m glad.”  Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead like a benediction.

As if a dam had broken within him, his eyes suddenly welled with hot tears, blurring his vision, and something exploded in his chest, filling him with warmth and... hope.  Was it happiness?  Love?  He didn’t know.  He only knew that he couldn’t stop the tears running down his skinless cheeks.  He was unmanned by her acceptance of him, and he didn’t know how to put himself back to rights.

“See?”  She cupped his cheek and smiled down at him.  “Nothing’s changed.  I still see you, Lucifer.  In my eyes, you haven’t changed at all.  You’re still just as handsome as ever.”

Would it be bad form if he clutched himself to her and bawled like a baby in her lap?  Because he wanted to -- he desperately wanted to.  No one had ever accepted him as he was -- not his siblings, not his parents, not any of the men and women he had slept with since coming to Earth.  Only Chloe.  Beautiful, wonderful Chloe with her big heart....

Her aqua eyes were warm as they traced over his features.  “You’re a good man, and I’ll never be afraid of you.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, he struggled for control.  As he let his human visage reemerge, he blinked rapidly to push back his unsightly tears and looked away.  “You should be.  I’m the Devil.  The bane of mankind --”

“Never that.”  Her delicate touch was over and above soothing to his scarred soul as she caressed his stubbly cheek.  “Just misunderstood.”

His eyes closed at her touch and he pressed closer to her hand.  He was dreaming -- surely this was a dream?

“You said some things in your sleep, as well.”

His eyes flew open as his heart skipped a beat.  “I... I did?  What... what did I say?”

She looked away briefly before returning her gaze to him.  “It’s not worth repeating, but if I ever meet your parents, I will punch them both in the face.”

Lucifer blinked at her statement.  He had never expected her to say that.

She stared at him intently, then finally smiled.  After rising to her feet, she held her hand out to him.  “Let’s get you off the floor, shall we?”

He didn’t want to get up.  He wanted to freeze this moment forever, stop time so that he would be with her always, feel all these wonderful warm, inexplicable feelings in his chest, and never go back to reality.

But even as he thought that, memories of who he was, who she was, returned, withering his newfound happiness within him.  What was Dad’s endgame here?  Was this all part of his plan, or was it real?  Bloody hell, he just didn’t know anymore.

For a moment he studied Chloe’s outstretched hand, then finally took it and let her help him up.  “Detective....”  He broke off, not knowing how to express what he felt.  Not knowing even what he felt.  Did she really believe everything she said, or was she under some sort of mind control from Dad?

She must have seen the confusion in his face, for she sighed.  “Look, what you’ve done in the past... it doesn’t matter to me.  I see you for who you are.  You’ve always been good to me, you make me a better detective, and I trust you.  There’s so much goodness in you.  Your physical appearance, your wings, or whatever you are doesn’t change that one single fact.  You’re my partner and my friend, and you mean a lot to me.  Nothing’s going to change that.”

Tears blurred his vision once again.  Squeezing his eyes shut to force them back, he took a deep breath.  Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, he bowed his head.  Chloe tried to catch his eye, but he studiously avoided looking at her.

She shook his arm gently.  “Hey, what’s wrong?  Tell me.”

“I don’t know if this is real, Detective,” he finally whispered.  “How can you accept me?  I’m a monster... the Devil.  What if this isn’t your choice at all, but rather Dad manipulating me and everyone around me, like he always does?”

She lifted her chin.  “Well, he doesn’t control me, Lucifer.  No one is holding a gun to my head and telling me what to feel.”

“But what if you can’t help it?  I mean....”  He bit his lip, unable to tell her about the circumstances of her birth.  That would just hurt her, and he could never do that.  He finally settled with, “He threw you into my path.  What other choice did you have but to... befriend me?”

A chuckle escaped her lips.  “Believe me, having you in my life is my choice.  I didn’t have to befriend you -- I didn’t even want to work with you.  You were a complete ass.”

“I was, wasn’t I?”  His lips quirked up reluctantly as hope blossomed at her words.  It had been her choice?

Her eyes sparkled as she nodded.  “You were.  But once I got to know you, saw who you really were, I changed my opinion about you.  You’re a good man, Lucifer.”

Heat rose in his cheeks, turning his face bright red as the tension in his body eased.  She chose to have him in her life.  She chose to.  Her words echoed in his head like a mantra.  Maybe... maybe this was real, and there was hope for him -- for them -- after all.  “Well...!  I... I don’t know what to say.”

Chloe smiled tenderly at him.  “Say you’ll stay.”

He nodded unsteadily.  “All right.  I... I will.  I’ll stay, although....”

Her eyebrows lifted.  “Although....?”

“I don’t know what the wings mean, Detective.”  He glanced over his shoulder, where those giant appendages lay hidden under his clothes.  “I cut them off for a reason.  I wanted to find my own path, be my own man, and yet Dad....  He gave them back to me.  I’m almost afraid to find out why.  He doesn’t do things without a reason.  What if he’s hatching some nefarious plot, or wants to control me in some way?  What if he’s trying to manipulate --”

“Then we’ll deal with it.”

When she stepped close and embraced him, his heart beat so furiously that he thought it would leap right out of him.  The warmth of her body was intoxicating, going straight to his head.  Could this really be happening? Was the detective actually hugging him?

“I’m here, Lucifer,” Chloe said.  “We’re partners, remember?  You’re not alone anymore.  And whatever your ass of a father throws at you, we’ll deal with it -- together.”

His eyes widened at her statement, and tears fell unchecked from his eyes as warmth burst in his chest.  No one in his entire life had ever stepped up and stood side by side with him to face Dad  -- well, except for Maze, and that was different.  But Chloe -- beautiful Chloe with a heart as big as the wide open sky -- accepted him for who he was.  She could have easily turned away, but instead she chose to stand by him....  Him!  The Devil!  It was more than he had ever expected, and far more than he deserved.

Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he hugged her back as he squeezed his eyes shut.  She was his everything, and he would love her until the end of time.

“Yes,” he managed to say in a wobbly voice as he pressed his cheek to her hair.  “Together.”

 

 

 

 

Series this work belongs to: