Chapter 1: Power Couple
Notes:
Welcome to part 3 of the Angel By Design series!
If you're new to the series, I highly recommend reading from part 1 or you might be a bit lost. For everyone who's stuck with Chloe and Lucifer (and me) this long, I hope you enjoy!
This story is completely written so there shouldn't be any gaps between updates, which will be every Thursday.
And thanks to MightBeAWriter for proofreading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lucifer never realized just how drastically one’s life could change in nine short months, not even a blink of an eye in his lifespan, and yet, they’ve been the most terrifying, amazing months he’s ever experienced.
Starting with the love of his life, who he won’t have to say goodbye to in a few decades thanks to her angelic ascension. Lucifer will never say Chloe getting shot was a good thing, but that day in the warehouse did start them building this beautiful life they now share. A life full of laughter and flirting, banter and teasing, passion and love.
It’s the last one that still trips him up on occasion, because love isn’t something he ever thought he wanted or needed in his life. Or at least, that’s what he told himself; as it turns out, even the Devil can be wrong once in a while. Love is what he’s been searching for his entire miserable existence. Or rather, he’s been searching for Chloe Decker. Everything Chloe gives him is given freely, without conditions or a deal. And she’s given him so much. What’s more, she wants to be with him, to share this life with him, as much as he wants it. For that, Lucifer wants to give her everything that he is and will ever be—her heart’s desire, whatever life she may want, his heart and soul.
Of course, the latter have always belonged to Chloe from the moment he set eyes on her, even if he was unaware of it at the time. This connection they share, forged that day in the warehouse when Lucifer used his feather to heal her, isn’t something they fully understand, and perhaps never will, but their souls are literally bound together now. They can feel each other in ways nobody in the universe has ever experienced, or so Lucifer suspects; he’s certainly never heard of something like this happening before. And there is nobody he would want to experience it with except his Detective.
Chloe has given him a home and a family with her little Urchin. Between the two of them, the penthouse has slowly undergone a transformation of its own as they leave their own marks everywhere Lucifer looks. A year ago, he would have thought seeing childish drawings on his walls and refrigerator would make his lip curl. That having toys and board games in his library would make him scoff. Or seeing the stacks of case files on his desk and the cheap jackets draped over his Italian leather sofa would make his eye twitch. And watching his guest room transform into a ten-year-old girl’s dream bedroom would make him want to sell the entire building—or burn it down, whichever was easiest.
None of those things have been his reaction; in fact, he’s enjoyed watching Chloe and Trixie make the penthouse their home, too. Far more than he’s willing to admit aloud. The penthouse has never been so full of life and laughter as it has been since they moved in with him after the fire. It’s never felt more like a true home.
But undoubtedly the most terrifying, amazing change in his life is one still yet to come: He and Chloe are going to have a child of their own in just a few short months. A son.
Fatherhood has never been on the Devil's radar—he’s been vehemently against the very thought, in fact, and against children in general—but he’s actually looking forward to it. To seeing which of them their son most resembles. To experiencing the challenges and joys that come along with parenthood. To giving his son the life he never had, a life with a father who loves him and would do anything for him. The little gremlin isn’t even here yet, but Lucifer knows that’s already true, just as it’s true for the child’s mother and sister. There is nothing Lucifer wouldn’t do to protect his family.
With Kinley and his ilk out of the way, Chloe and Lucifer are actually able to enjoy impending parenthood. His panic has, more or less, settled since they found out three months ago, and he’s gone into nesting mode, preparing the penthouse and their lives for their little Hellspawn bundle of joy. As of today, Chloe is five months pregnant and starting to show it; she’s tired, her back hurts, her feet ache. But as far as Lucifer is concerned, she has never looked more beautiful.
He’s done everything he can to make things easier on her, though she positively refuses to allow him to do everything—her independent nature is one of the many, many things he loves about her. Together, they’ve done what they can to baby-proof the penthouse—removing sharp and/or dangerous objects on display; putting childproof locks on cabinet doors; covered electrical outlets, et cetera.
The only thing he’s refused to let Chloe see just yet is the nursery, his own pet project. He had a vision of what he wanted it to look like—something special he wanted to do for his son—and while it isn’t quite complete just yet, it’s coming along quite nicely, if he does say so himself.
Outside the penthouse, Chloe has just started her dreaded desk duty at work, per doctor’s orders; the doctor was worried about her blood pressure and thought it would be better for her to not be in the field as much. She made a deal with the homicide department’s Lieutenant that she can go into the field to question witnesses and help with the preliminary work on cases, but no lead chasing. Chloe wasn’t particularly thrilled with the order, much preferring to be in on the action, and with her being invulnerable, she and the baby would be safe for the duration of the pregnancy. But she can’t exactly explain that to her doctor or Lieutenant, so desk duty it is for now.
It’s freed up a considerable amount of time for Lucifer; as much as Chloe enjoys his company at work (and who are we kidding, of course she does), even he can admit he has a tendency to annoy her on occasion. And according to Dr. Linda, it’s good for couples to spend a bit of time apart, anyway. He’d been hesitant at first, simply on a safety stance; after all, their track record with these things isn’t great. But there are no current threats to Chloe or the baby, and nobody wants to send the Devil back to Hell (at least, none that have confronted him recently). As added protection, Chloe has begun to carry a demon blade (given to her by Maze, as it’s more practical than the short sword Lucifer gave her), and she can protect herself long enough to pray for the Devil’s assistance should anything arise.
Much of this newfound spare time is spent perfecting the nursery. Lucifer is quite proud of it, having involved professional artists and electricians, even, as well as his own Devilish flare. Perhaps he’s gone a bit overboard, but this room is for his and Chloe’s son. The lad should have somewhere comfortable and snazzy to sleep, even if he’ll be far too young to appreciate it for some time.
Presently, though, another idea has taken root in his mind. One that has flickered in and out for months, but that he’s dismissed, because...well. So many reasons. But last night, as he sat on the couch with Chloe leaned against him and her head tucked beneath his chin as they watched a movie with Trixie and Teivel, their Hellhound, it suddenly clicked just how many changes his life has undergone in such a short time. From watching Chloe drift further away from him into the arms of Marcus Pierce...to this—the Devil is a domesticated family man, and by Dad, he actually enjoys it—nay, he has embraced it and wouldn’t give it up for the universe.
But he digresses.
He’s hesitated to execute this idea, mostly because he wasn’t sure whether it was something Chloe would even desire. It’s something she’s been through once before and it didn’t work out (obviously), and she hasn’t expressed any interest in trying again. But the more he thinks about it, the more he wants it.
He needs a second opinion.
Miss Lopez crossed his mind, but Lucifer isn’t certain he could count on her to keep the whole thing quiet from Chloe. After all, she’s the one who let it slip to the precinct that Chloe and Lucifer were together in the first place.
Daniel is an option. He and the Douche are getting along better than they ever have, bonding over Lucifer’s impending fatherhood (Daniel has settled the Devil’s nerves more than anybody else, to be honest, not that he’d admit that over his dead body). But it feels strange discussing this particular topic with Chloe’s ex-husband.
Which leaves the Devil’s therapist. He only hesitated to call on Linda because she’s currently still on maternity leave, having given birth only a couple months ago. But when he texted her, she seemed eager for adult contact and conversation with somebody who isn’t Amenadiel—which Lucifer absolutely cannot fault her for.
The moment he enters Linda’s townhouse, he stops at the top of the stairs—and stares. The normally impeccable, stylish home is littered with baby items—clothes, toys, diapers (clean, thankfully), burping towels, and dozens of other things. And for some Dad-awful reason, there is bubblewrap on the ceiling fan and other sharp edges.
“Are you mailing the house special delivery, brother?” Lucifer asks Amenadiel, who looks drawn and exhausted but overall cheerful.
His brother gives him a droll look. “It’s for when Emily begins flying, Luci,” he says as though it’s completely logical and sound. “Linda is worried she’ll hurt herself on the ceiling fan.”
“Right...” Lucifer says slowly, skeptical eyebrow raised. “And...you’re expecting her to grow wings any day now?”
“We have no idea, there isn’t exactly a manual on half-angel babies, Luci. You’ll see when the time comes.”
Even Lucifer knows better than to think that whenever his niece or son grow wings they’ll immediately begin bouncing off ceilings and walls. It took Chloe weeks to gain full control over her wings enough to hover a few inches off the ground. A small child certainly isn’t going to fare any better than that. Still, he says nothing as his brother leads him to the kitchen where Linda is sitting at the island, her baby daughter in her arms taking in the world around her.
“Doctor, you look lovely,” Lucifer greets, peeking over his therapist’s shoulder to take a look at his niece. It isn’t the first he’s seen of her since she was born, but she’s gotten a bit bigger since the last time and her hair is thicker. “Spawn...well done on the...hair. Wonderful to see you aren’t follicly-challenged like your father.”
Amenadiel gives him a look. Linda cuts in before the angels can devolve into any further insults. “Good to see you, too, Lucifer. Can we get you a drink?”
“I’ll take a finger or two of whiskey, if it’s on offer,” the Devil says breezily, sitting down beside Linda. He leans over baby Emily and can’t seem to hold back his smile, though he does try. Despite having half of his brother’s genetics, she is quite cute. For a wriggling, wailing, poop machine, that is.
“You want to hold her?” Linda smiles.
Lucifer makes a strangled sound in his throat and backs away hastily. “Oh, I don’t...”
“You could use the practice, brother,” Amenadiel says sagely, for once, being a decent host and retrieving the whiskey. “Your son will be here before you know it.”
Unfortunately, his brother has a point there. “Yes, yes, all right...” Linda’s smile widens and she carefully transfers her daughter into the Devil’s arms, correcting his hold slightly and reminding him to support the baby’s head. “They really are quite tiny, aren’t they?”
“She’ll get bigger,” Linda says confidently, stretching her arms gratefully. “So, what brings you here, Lucifer? You weren’t clear in your message.”
“Ah...” He glances sidelong at his brother.
Linda gets the hint. “Amenadiel, could you take Emily and give us a few minutes?”
“Of course,” the angel agrees, glancing curiously between his brother and Linda. He walks around and retrieves his offspring. “Say bye-bye, Uncle Luci...” He waves the girl’s hand for her.
“Yes, goodbye, child,” Lucifer says awkwardly, reaching for his drink. He waits until his brother is upstairs and a door closes somewhere, then turns to Linda and gets straight into it. “Right, then. How does one know if they wish to marry another?”
Linda’s eyes widen at the sudden question. “Uh... Okay, that is not what I expected...” She turns to eye Lucifer speculatively, tilting her head. “I’m just going to assume ‘one’ is you and ‘another’ is Chloe,” she says plainly, “because I’m too tired to talk in riddles.”
“You would assume correctly.”
Linda sighs tiredly. “Look, people get married for all sorts of reasons, and they have all sorts of reasons for deciding it’s what they want. But the ones who get married for love decide in favor of it because they want to share their life with that person—every aspect, good and bad—and while it doesn’t always work out, they want to spend the rest of their lives loving that person. So, you tell me, Lucifer, is that how you feel about Chloe?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “And the best part is, unless I royally screw things up or she comes to her senses, I could be with her for the rest of my life.”
Linda’s eyes widen. “Right, the whole...immortal thing. Well, I guess ‘til death do you part’ doesn’t really apply to the two of you anymore.”
Lucifer snorts. “No,” he agrees wryly. “Marriage is more of a human construct than an angelic one—but since all angels in the Silver City are siblings...well, I doubt even they have been desperate enough to go the inscestuous route. Demons rarely life-bond, but that involves blood pacts, and adultery for the male is automatic castration with a blunt blade—the females get that particular honor.”
The therapist blinks at that information. “And if the female is guilty of adultery?” Her tone is one of uncertain curiosity, like she can’t help asking but isn’t sure she actually wants the answer.
Lucifer winces at the memory. “Likely, you don’t wish to know, Doctor. Bloody gruesome, though, I’ll tell you that. My point is, I’ve no experience with this sort of thing; my species doesn’t take part in these traditions. The Detective and I don’t necessarily need to make things official legally, but...”
“But...?” Linda urges him on when he doesn’t finish the sentence.
He makes a helpless sound in the back of his throat. “I want it. And I want it with Chloe. Loving her for all eternity in unholy matrimony.”
She smiles softly at him. “Then I think you have your answer,” she says gently.
He twists his cufflinks, but says nothing, still uncertain. And he isn’t even sure why he’s uncertain. He knows that he loves Chloe, that he’ll never love another. Furthermore, much to his never-ceasing amazement, Chloe feels exactly the same way about him. There is no other with whom he could ever want to tie himself to; she is it for him. Now and forever, until the end of time.
So why the hesitance? Shouldn’t he be utterly confident in this desire as he is any other?
Linda reaches over to still his fidgeting hand. “Let me ask you something... Do you have any pictures of you and Chloe together?”
“Of course,” he scoffs. “Several.”
“Show me your favorite.”
Curious about where this is going, Lucifer reaches into his pocket for his phone and opens his “Lucifer❤️Chloe” photo album, reserved for pictures, mostly selfies, of them together. He scrolls up towards the top until he finds a specific one, unable to hold back his smile as he hands the phone to Linda to allow her to see himself and Chloe sitting on a bench with the setting sun and the beach in the background. Lucifer has one arm around Chloe, the other holding the phone to snap the picture. He’s pressing a kiss to her cheek and she’s laughing at a joke he’d made. They both look happy and in love.
“Tell me about this photo,” she instructs him. “Where were you? What were you doing? How did you feel at that moment in time? All of it.”
He doesn’t even have to look at the photo to remember. “We’d only been together a few weeks at that point, and although we’d been on a few dates, it was mostly dinners or museums, things that I’d planned for us. Chloe wanted to plan a day for us to spend together. We went to Venice Beach, the boardwalk there, and spent some time on the beach itself.” He still smirks when he thinks about Chloe sending the coed volleyball player on her way, reeking with the scent of failure and rejection. “Then we wandered the boardwalk itself, holding hands and chatting—nothing of particular import, just...everything and nothing. It was quite lovely, really.
“We stopped at one of those silly little game stands—this particular game, you shoot at these cardboard ducks on a conveyor belt with a water pistol.” Linda nods that she knows what he’s referring to. “And the lout of an attendant was quite patronizing, but of course, Chloe put him in his place when she took down nearly double the required targets to win the game.” He leans over to point at the duck plushie Chloe won and gifted to him that is set on her shoulder to fit it in the frame. “Detective Quacker.” Linda snorts a laugh. “Anyhow, afterwards she took me rollerblading for the first time. Even going so far as to buy me my own pair of the things.”
“You’d never been rollerblading before then?”
He shakes his head, smiling. “Ice skating, yes, but not rollerblading. Of course, I was a natural at it. But we had...a marvelous day together,” he finishes softly. “One of the best days of my life, to be honest.”
“Tell me some things you felt that day.”
“Joy,” he says promptly. “I don’t think I smiled more in one day than I did on that day, to that point. I remember thinking that I was falling in love with her all over again. And, of course, it made me happy to see her happy—she is never more beautiful than when she laughs. Back then, her immortality was still rather a new discovery, but I further remember thinking that I wanted everyday to be like that, forever.”
Linda gives him a soft smile. “That is beautiful, Lucifer. It sounds like a wonderful day the two of you had.” She hands back his phone. “And all told, has everyday been like that? Not necessarily the going out and doing something part, but the laughter and the fun and the falling in love all over again? The beauty and joy of it all?”
He doesn’t even have to think about that. “Aside from a few rather difficult days, yes, it has. Particularly since she and Trixie moved into the penthouse with me.”
“And you’re having a child together. That is a lifelong bond you and Chloe will always share,” Linda points out. “Stronger than any piece of paper. So marriage would be more...symbolic for you?”
Lucifer considers the question. “Yes, I suppose it would be. Officializing our partnership, showing the world we belong to one another.” He imagines seeing a ring on Chloe’s finger—his ring—and a gold band on his own.
“Have you and Chloe ever discussed marriage?”
“Not...as such.”
“And by ‘not as such’, you mean...not at all?”
Lucifer shrugs, not quite meeting her eyes.
Linda shakes her head, a fond smile on her lips. “Look, what you and Chloe have is a connection like nothing I have ever seen. I have patients with good relationships, and patients with terrible, toxic ones. You and Chloe are on a whole other level.”
“Miss Lopez calls us a ‘power couple’.”
The therapist tilts her head from side to side. “Accurate, actually. What makes the two of you so good together is that you make each other better—and you challenge one another to be better everyday. You simultaneously help each other grow while allowing the other to be themselves, and I say this as somebody who’s watched you both since the very beginning of your partnership. I think we all met the same day, thereabouts, didn’t we?”
Lucifer nods and smiles softly, remembering. “I find you repulsive. Like, on a chemical level.” Back then, he’d been completely confounded by the woman who said those words, having never come across anybody who wasn’t attracted to him on some level. He couldn’t understand what made her so different. Why she seemed so strangely immune to his angelic powers. Or why he felt such a pull towards her. It wasn’t only justice for Delilah he desired on that case...
Linda goes on. “I knew then that there was something special between you. Even if you were both in deep, deep denial. And it’s been a pleasure seeing you get closer over the years.
“Now, I can’t presume to know Chloe’s feelings on the matter, but she does love you, Lucifer, and it’s real. I know that you know that. And I also know that your feelings for her are literally out of this world, so if you want to put a ring on it, I would be shocked if she said no.”
Lucifer huffs a laugh. He and Chloe already have a bond unique to them—literal soulmates—and they have already made promises to one another that far surpass average human marriage vows. While he will likely always fear losing her through his own mistakes and tendency to self-sabotage, Chloe has made it clear that she isn’t going anywhere. Nobody has ever put as much faith in him or stuck by his side the way she has. Perhaps it’s time to prove to her he feels exactly the same way, in terms that her human culture communicates these things.
Seems I’ve a bit of shopping to do...
“Right, then! Well, thank you, Doctor, you’ve been of great service today, as ever.” Standing and adjusting his suit jacket, Lucifer smiles. “Do enjoy your offspring, and try not to strangle my brother—he’s invulnerable again, so you’d only be hurting yourself, really. And I quite look forward to reconvening our weekly chats once you’ve returned to the office.”
Linda blinks at the sudden change. “So, you’re going to ask her? Wait, Lucifer! You should stay for lunch—”
“So sorry to rush off, Doctor, things to do, you know how it is,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads back to the front door, dodging the baby item obstacle course. He makes a mental note to schedule for cleaning services as payment for Linda’s time today. And for himself and Chloe once their spawn is born. “Do take care, darling! Bye, now!”
Once out on the front step, with the door closed behind him, he scrolls through a mental list of favors to call in, already something quite specific in mind. With a grin and new excitement growing, Lucifer rushes back to his Corvette, eager to get the ball rolling.
So much to do, so little time.
Two of the many things Chloe Decker has not missed when it comes to being pregnant are the backaches and the swollen feet—not to mention the exhaustion, which she can’t even chase away with caffeine. She hoped this whole angelic transformation thing would give her a leg up in that department between the celestial healing and the invulnerability, but...not so much. Apparently, angel or human, pregnancy is exactly the same.
The invulnerability part of things has been odd, though, and not at all consistent to the way Lucifer’s works. For example, she had blood drawn a few weeks ago because her OB-GYN wanted to check her labs and the needle slid right into her skin—a totally normal, man-made, Earth-sourced, metal needle. Later that same day, she was helping Lucifer chop some vegetables for a salad for dinner and the knife slipped right across the tip of one of her fingers—not a drop of blood or even a mark on her. Lucifer thinks it’s her self-actualization deciding when vulnerability is actually useful to have—then he joked that even her subconscious is more organized and rational than he is on a given day. At the very least, it’s saved her from having to explain why needles keep breaking on her skin to medical staff. And from getting a bunch of stitches in her finger.
Being pregnant with the Devil’s son hasn’t been nearly as unpredictable as she feared it might be. Her food cravings are fairly typical for a pregnant woman at her stage; the morning sickness was barely anything, compared even to Trixie, and while she still occasionally gets nauseous, the mints Lucifer ordered for her when they first found out about the pregnancy knock that out; and everybody is healthy. She couldn't ask for more.
Her sex drive since she’s been with Lucifer has always been a bit high, and while she originally thought perhaps it was the coveted “honeymoon phase” of a new relationship, that doesn’t seem to be the case. He really wasn’t joking when he said that he’s like walking heroin and very habit-forming; the man could tempt a nun from her vow of chastity. Now that there are pregnancy hormones involved, too, though... Unless they have an audience, she can’t keep her hands off of him—and even then, it’s a struggle. Not that Lucifer seems to mind, at all, in the slightest. In fact, he’s done his own research on the best positions and added his own flare to their...ahem, intimate moments to keep things from getting stale for her—not that she thinks sex with the Devil could ever become stale.
Her only real complaint is the odd dreams she’s been having in the last couple of weeks. She can never quite remember the details upon waking, but they range from mundane to sexy to “wake up with a sheen of sweat on her skin” terrifying. To be fair, she had odd dreams during her first pregnancy, too, but that had been more towards the end when every breath she took was exhausting. Chloe even asked Linda about it, wondering if it’s the celestial aspect making things more...intense, but the other woman couldn’t recall any out of the ordinary dreams during her pregnancy with Emily. She highly suggested yoga and meditation to help clear her mind before sleeping, though. The problem with those being that Chloe has never been able to “clear her mind” or switch it off—there’s always too much to do, or to think about, or to plan. The only thing that seems to help is when she falls asleep wrapped in Lucifer’s wings, which he’s been more than willing to do for her, but then she ends up getting too warm and slips out from beneath the feathers...and on come the dreams.
As for her own wings, she’s been hesitant to use them for anything that involves leaving the ground since finding out about their little Antichrist, despite being invulnerable. She’d only just started flying lessons with Lucifer when they found out, and apart from a few short-distance flights in Lucifer’s arms, she’s kept her feet firmly planted to the Earth. Lucifer doesn’t think it will harm the baby at all, since said baby is probably angelic himself, but Chloe has this recurring thought of flying through the air with her big pregnant belly, then suddenly dropping from the sky like an anvil.
Glancing around the precinct now, Chloe is bored. Not only is she stuck on desk duty until she goes on maternity leave (another three months, at least), but she doesn’t even have the Devil to keep her entertained today. He claimed he has a few mysterious errands to run this morning, but promised to join her for lunch. Ella and Dan are out on a case, Chloe is caught up on her current paperwork (and is curling her lip at the stack of cold case files at the corner of her desk), and it’s nearly her lunch hour.
Her phone pings with a text message and she snatches it up eagerly, only to roll her eyes at the sight of her mom’s name followed by another list of baby names to consider and suggestions for the baby shower. The names are all...unique would be the nicest way to describe them, and Chloe refuses to suffer through another Penelope Decker-planned baby shower.
Chloe and Lucifer have yet to actually sit down and discuss names. In fact, she doesn’t think it’s even occurred to the Devil that they have to do that at some point. Lucifer has always been...funny when it comes to names, either using a person’s full formal name or a nickname he’s crafted for them. She knows he’s undergone at least one name change in his life (no way was “Lucifer Morningstar” the name God gave him when he was created, despite him telling her when they first met that it’s “God-given, I’m afraid”). But she also doesn’t know what his name was originally; whenever the topic comes up, however briefly, an expression of such loathing, anger, and pain flashes through his eyes and he immediately changes the subject. So she’s never pushed.
Not that it matters; he is and will always be Lucifer Morningstar to her. That is the name he’s chosen, and she will respect his choice and free will. She couldn’t imagine ever calling him anything else, anyway. It suits him perfectly.
Still, their kid needs a name. She has a few ideas and even dug into the etymology of those ideas to ensure it has no direct connection with God or Heaven; otherwise, they will be immediately shot down by the Devil without consideration. Because...weird about names. Not that Chloe can blame him, of course. One name in particular has gotten stuck in her head, and when she looked it up...well, nothing could be more fitting for their son. She only hopes Lucifer will agree, because she’s already begun calling the baby by the aforementioned name in her mind.
Decadent smells reach her nostrils almost out of nowhere and Chloe blinks back to reality when a white paper bag is placed on her desk alongside what she knows is a fruit smoothie. Glancing up, she finds Lucifer standing across from her, a smirk on his lips as he twists his cufflinks.
“Hi.” She can’t hide her smile or the way her eyes rove his body—wrapped today in his trademark black suit, white shirt, crimson pocket square combo with his muscular physique filling it out nicely.
Although neither of them can quite explain it, one day last month (not long after finding out they are having a son), they woke to find Lucifer had put on a bit of weight, muscle-wise. He’s always been broad and trim and fit, but this makes him look like he’s been spending months working out at the gym. Which Chloe knows without a doubt he has not. And it’s an...incredibly attractive look on him, too. Okay, it’s downright sexy. She may have immediately begun running her hands all over him, wanting to feel every new change to his body. He had no complaints. It’s not overly done, like some of the guys at Muscle Beach, and it doesn’t look forced. It’s just...him. Her strong, beautiful Devil. Now more...defined.
Lucifer was less surprised at the changes than he was annoyed that he would have to get all of his suits altered to accommodate his new build.
“Hello, yourself, Detective,” he says, taking his customary seat across from her. “And just where had you drifted off to when I arrived?” He leans over the desk, his smirk widening as he lowers his voice. “Thinking about this morning, were you? Well, if you’re feeling a bit...frisky, darling, I’d be happy to lend a hand. Shall we take this conversation to the evidence locker?”
Rolling her eyes, she purses her lips against a smile. “No, I wasn’t thinking about this morning.” Though she is now... “Mom sent me a list of possible baby names and let’s just say, I wouldn’t let her name a dog, let alone our child.”
Snorting a laugh, Lucifer reaches for the phone she hands him. “Oh, come now, Detective, they can’t be that bad—ah... Yes, I...see what you mean, darling...” His free hand flies to his collar as if he’s clutching-his-pearls horrified (or mortally offended) by some of the names he’s reading. “Oh, dear. Some of these are worse than the Urchin’s suggestions.”
Chloe lifts an eyebrow. “Trixie has been giving you name suggestions?”
“Hmm... Mostly cartoon or Disney characters,” he replies faintly, handing her back the phone carefully as if fearing it will bite him if he holds it much longer. “You’d think she, of all people, would be more cautious when it comes to choosing another’s name.”
“Okay, for the last time, ‘Trixie’ is a perfectly acceptable name for a little girl—”
“Nevertheless, I’ve informed her I wouldn’t allow her to name my goldfish, much less my son. Seems the same applies to Mama Decker, as well. Shame; I thought she had better taste than that. She named you, after all.”
“Actually, my dad chose my name. Mom wanted to name me,” she shudders, “Apollonia, but Dad put his foot down.”
Lucifer’s mouth actually drops open. “I beg your pardon!” he exclaims as if Chloe had just suggested he change his own name. “Apollonia? Was Penelope on drugs whilst pregnant with you?”
Chloe snorts a laugh. “She was on a Greek mythos kick at the time.” She shrugs.
“Don’t get me wrong, the name itself is quite lovely, but it doesn’t fit you at all. Whereas Chloe is classy, sexy, timeless...”
“You’re not biased at all,” she mutters, but she’s smiling.
She’s always loved the way he says her name. In the early days of their partnership, it was rare for him to use it, and only to emphasize a moment of great importance. He somehow manages to turn two syllables into a full sentence packed with meaning and emotion, usually making it sound like a prayer all on its own. Nobody has ever said it the way Lucifer does. Even now that he uses it more often, usually outside of work, it hasn’t lost that slightly breathy reverence.
She’s also quite partial to the way he calls her Detective, turning it from her job title to an endearing moniker. Even in a precinct full of cops and other detectives, when Lucifer Morningstar says “the Detective”, not one person is in any doubt who he’s referring to.
He gives her a soft smile. “Perhaps,” he concedes. “But I couldn’t imagine referring to you as anything other than ‘Chloe’ or ‘my Detective’.”
“Yours, huh?”
“Indeed. And I take care of what’s mine, darling. Speaking of which...” He nudges the bag towards her. “I stopped by that delicatessen you enjoy and picked up a sandwich for you—roasted chicken, avocado, and sharp cheddar on whole wheat. And of course, a smoothie to wash it down. There’s even a lemon square for dessert.”
The thing about pregnancy hormones is that they’re unpredictable and unstable—even something as simple as bringing her lunch makes her cry these days. Lucifer had been dismayed and apologetic when the hormone emotions started, even after Chloe explained what was happening and that he didn’t do anything wrong (quite the opposite, actually). Now, he’s starting to get used to it and just chuckles fondly, passing her his pocket square.
“Very sweet, Lucifer, thank you.” She sniffs, reaching for the smoothie. A burst of fruit explodes on her tongue and she practically moans.
“Oh, it’s nothing, love. How’s your day so far?”
As they eat, they chat, Chloe bringing Lucifer up to speed on precinct happenings, though she leaves the gossip mill to Ella. Then about Trixie’s and Teivel’s antics, and about their friends.
It happens as Chloe is polishing off her lemon square. Far from being the first time she’s felt her baby move inside her, at first, she thinks nothing of the little flutters as her son adjusts his position or starts up the marching band—whatever he’s doing in there. It isn’t until she feels it against her palm that she realizes what’s going on—just the lightest of kicks. Technically, it should be too early to feel anything significant from the outside and since everything else about this pregnancy has been typical to human norms, she hadn’t assumed this would be any different, and yet...
“Chloe, are you all right?” Something must show on her face, because suddenly Lucifer is half out of his chair, worry writ large across his features. “Is it the baby? Is something wrong?”
She shakes her head quickly, smiling to reassure him—it doesn’t work. “Nothing’s wrong, promise...” Another kick, this one a bit more forceful. Standing, she walks around her desk and grabs Lucifer’s hand, tugging until he follows to somewhere with a bit more privacy. Once the interrogation room door is shut, she turns to him.
“What? What’s happened?” he asks urgently, panic starting to build. “Do you need a hospital?”
“No. No, Lucifer, everything is fine, I promise,” she soothes him, lifting her shirt enough that she can stuff his hand beneath it.
He blinks in surprise at the move, then his expression turns lustful. “Darling, if you wanted an afternoon snog, all you had to do was say the word. You needn’t have given me a bloody heart att—” His words are cut off suddenly when she presses his palm to her bump, and his expression goes slack when he feels it, too. “What on Earth...” For a moment, he looks horrified, as if he’s afraid the baby is going to come straight through her belly, Alien-style.
“He’s kicking. It means he’s strong and healthy,” she says softly, her eyes burning with joyful tears. “You feel it?”
Nodding slowly, Lucifer stares at their hands over her belly until it happens again. He smiles slowly. “That...doesn’t hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “Well, it’s a bit uncomfortable when he launches a kick to my bladder or my spleen, but...no, it’s pressure, mostly. Or, like...catching a frog in your hand and it’s jumping around trying to escape. Not that I can imagine you picking up a frog...”
“I have, actually,” he tells her faintly, still staring at their hands, awestruck. “Back when Dad first created them, Azrael and I would have competitions to see who could catch the most. That’s what our baby feels like from the inside?”
“More or less. Amazing, huh?”
He exhales gustily, eyes a bit wet. “He’s...truly in there,” he says reverently. “I mean, I knew that, of course, I just...” He trails off, like he doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. Instead, he brings up his other hand to get in on the action and gets a more direct, forceful kick. “Bloody hell...” He laughs in wonder, eyes darting up to meet hers. “Chloe...”
She nods, not bothering to hide her watery smile. “I know, babe,” she murmurs, leaning her forehead to rest against his. “I know.”
“I thought this didn’t happen for some time yet,” he says absently.
Right, because the Devil has been doing research into all things baby-related. She’s never seen him so focused on one topic that doesn’t revolve around sex. Though, she supposes that is how their son got in there to begin with...
“It doesn’t, normally, which is why it caught me off guard. Maybe his milestones are a bit advanced, being celestial?”
“Possible. I suppose we could ask Linda...” He shakes his head as the kicks subside and the baby stills for the time being. “Thank you, for sharing that with me.”
Chloe rests her hands on either side of his neck. “Of course. I love sharing these things with you, Lucifer.” Because she can’t resist, and because it’s been hours since last time, she leans up to kiss him. Immediately, he returns it with gentle reverence.
Lucifer spends the rest of the afternoon until it’s time to pick Trixie up from school at the precinct, usually gazing at her with wonder and awe and love in his eyes. Whenever she looks up from her paperwork or asks him what he’s thinking about, he just shakes his head, smiles, and changes the subject.
It will never not amaze her how easily he’s accepted becoming a father. With his history and the father he has, it would be completely understandable if he flew as far from the concept as his wings could take him. But despite the occasional mild panic or fear that he’s going to screw things up completely, he’s embraced the idea and their baby. She thought it from the moment she found out she’s pregnant and it’s only strengthening the more comfortable he becomes: Lucifer is going to be an amazing father, just as he’s an amazing friend and partner. His fear of failing them alone won’t allow him to be anything other.
Now if she can just convince him that a newborn doesn’t need bespoke baby onesies, they’ll be all set.
Notes:
Hope you liked the first chapter!
Please feel free to comment and let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading!
Chapter 2: Happy Birthday, Detective
Summary:
It's the Detective's birthday, and the Devil has plans.
Chapter Text
Chloe’s birthday dawns cloudless and sunny, and already so much better than last year. Of course, that could be because she wakes up to the feeling of her partner’s head moving between her thighs, his expert tongue pulling a gradual orgasm from her before she’s even completely aware of what’s going on.
She catches her breath, her fingers still tight in his messy curls as he props his chin on her hip and watches her with dark, glimmering eyes. She wonders if she’ll ever get used to his pleasurable ways of starting their mornings—then immediately hopes she doesn’t. Little else could start the day off right than morning sex with Lucifer Morningstar. And since they’ve given each other explicit permission to wake the other however they like, they take advantage whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Releasing his hair, she grabs at his shoulder, tugging him upwards until he’s caging her in with his arms and legs, careful not to put too much pressure on her belly, and kisses him, humming at the taste of herself. It’s not a taste she’s ever particularly enjoyed, personally. At least, not with past lovers, but something about the mix of herself and Lucifer is just...heady. Inwardly, she smirks, imagining the pun Lucifer would make about head being heady.
“Good morning, Detective,” he rumbles against her lips, trailing his mouth along her cheek towards her ear. “And happy birthday, my love.”
She smiles as he lays down beside her. “Hmm...thank you, Lucifer.”
Chloe has had mixed emotions about her birthday this year. It’s the first since her immortality kicked in and feels strange in a way other birthdays haven’t. While she is technically getting older—age-wise, at least—physically, she isn’t changing at all. In fact, Lucifer began to notice that physically, her age has even backed off just a touch—wrinkles and the beginnings of crow’s feet have faded away; the couple of gray hairs she had are gone without having to touch them up herself. And she’ll remain this way for however long she lives.
It just seems pointless to celebrate turning a year older when she’s apparently going to live forever—as an angel. But her friends (Lucifer, especially) have been insistent on celebrating her, particularly after the year she’s had, so she’s letting them. She did, however, have to extract a promise from the Devil that he wouldn’t go overboard—no wild Lux parties (she can’t drink right now, anyway; despite having celestial metabolism, it’s not a risk worth taking with the baby) and no expensive, elaborate gifts. He agreed to the parties rule, but the latter had him looking for any and all obvious loopholes—and changing the subject when she called him out on it.
In the end, he suggested dinner out, just the two of them, and a small party over the weekend where their friends and Trixie could be part of the celebrations. This is her daughter’s week with her father, despite it being Chloe’s birthday, and for reasons Chloe doesn’t quite understand, Trixie didn’t put up any fuss at not being able to spend the actual day with her mother, as she has in past years since the divorce. She has to admit, it is a little strange not having her little Monkey burst into the room, jump on the bed, and shrilly yell “Happy Birthday, Mommy!” in her ear. Then again, Chloe and Lucifer wouldn’t be able to have a lazy morning like this with Trixie here.
So torn... she thinks as she looks at her Devil smiling besottedly at her.
“What would you like for breakfast, darling?” Lucifer interrupts her musings, bracing his head with his propped up fist as he looks down at her. “Omelet? French toast? Fruit yogurt and granola? What do you truly desire?”
Chloe hums in consideration, rolling onto her side to more fully face him. “Omelet and bacon?” Thankfully, her aversion to eggs didn’t last long; Lucifer’s omelets are simply divine. It would have been a sin to miss out on having them for months.
He pecks her nose with his lips. “Done. If you want to get showered and dressed, I’ll begin breakfast, shall I?”
She smirks. “What, you don’t want to offer to scrub my back?”
Smirking in return, he leans in, kissing her neck and shoulder lazily. “Whilst I would, of course, be delighted to do so if you desire, I assumed you wished to actually make it to the office today? Since Dad forbid you take one single day to yourself.”
She’d considered it. It’s not like she’d be taking a day off in the middle of a case, or that anybody in the precinct would miss her there to work on cold cases, but...it’s the principle of the matter. She’s a workaholic, even with Lucifer’s influence, and she’ll be taking plenty of time off later in her pregnancy, anyway. Glancing at the clock, she considers dragging him into the shower with her, anyway, but they’re already cutting it close. With a gentle shove at his shoulder, she pushes him away.
“Fine, I’ll go shower all by my lonesome...”
“Are you sure, darling? I could scrub your back...” He licks his lips, his leering gaze traveling lower. “Then I could scrub something else for you?”
“Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You already called attention to the time. I’ve got a schedule to keep, Satan, get on with it.”
Huffing in annoyance (likely at himself for pointing out the time), Lucifer admits defeat and rolls out of bed. Grumbling, he pulls on his robe then comes around to help Chloe out of bed like he often does now because it’s “painful watching her struggle like a turtle stuck on its shell”. She isn’t looking forward to the later months of her pregnancy when she’s the size of a house and actually struggling to get out of bed.
Before letting her head for the shower, though, he kisses her thoroughly. “As you wish, Detective...”
Watching his retreating back with a pout, knowing he’s flexing his muscles for her benefit, Chloe heads into the walk-in closet to get ready for the day. Half an hour later, she follows the delicious scents of Lucifer’s cooking into the kitchen, smiling when her gaze lands on a small stack of neatly wrapped gifts on the island.
“What is this?” she asks. She reaches immediately for her morning latte—the one fully-caffeinated beverage she’s permitted a day. “I thought we agreed, no extravagant gifts.”
“You agreed, darling, I did no such thing.” The Devil smirks at her over his shoulder as he cooks. “Besides, I wouldn’t call what’s there ‘extravagant’. One didn’t cost a thing, and the other is more...for practical use.”
He totally got me a vibrator... she thinks to herself, knowing better than to blurt it out, especially in front of Lucifer. If it isn’t a vibrator, he’ll immediately get on his phone to order the best one on the market for their use. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Babe, our definitions of ‘extravagance’ do not match up, like, at all,” she deadpans. Lucifer just smirks at her again. “Which one should I open first?”
There’s a dark blue leather pouch sitting atop the shiny red package with a black bow that looks intriguing, but before she can reach for it, Lucifer hands her a folded piece of construction paper.
“This one, if you please. The Urchin has texted me no less than half a dozen times this morning, reminding me to give it to you,” he says dryly.
Chuckling, Chloe takes it from him. It’s a homemade card with Happy Birthday, Mommy!!! written on the front amidst hearts and balloons. Inside, is a family portrait of herself and Lucifer, wings out for both of them, Trixie in the middle (with her own made-up pair of purple wings). Teivel the Hellhound pup sitting next to them, complete with red Hellfire eyes and little Devil horns on his head, his little pink tongue lolling out in a grin. Chloe smiles fondly at the sight of a baby angel hovering above them sporting Lucifer’s white wings.
She feels a little guilty and sad for her daughter, who will be the only one in the household without her own set of wings and celestialness. The thought of Trixie feeling left out or left behind breaks her heart, but right now, her daughter doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Chloe has been making an effort to include her in as many decisions as possible and to not keep secrets from her. It’s going to be difficult once the baby comes, with Chloe and Lucifer putting much of their focus on him, but Trixie seems to understand that—at least, in theory—and is looking forward to helping out where she can. As long as she doesn’t have to change dirty diapers, of course.
“Hmm, her technique is improving,” Lucifer muses, glancing over her shoulder. “Love the detail in the wings...”
“Okay, Mr. Can-Barely-Draw-Stick-Figures,” Chloe teases.
He makes a sound of offense. “That portrait I drew of you during the psychiatric hospital case was spot on, Detective! That should be on our fridge.”
Chloe gives him a bland look, remembering quite clearly her stick figure self with boobs bigger than her head. “Seriously? Should have left you in that hospital if that’s what you think,” she mutters under her breath. “But don’t worry, love, your talents simply lie elsewhere.”
His eyes light up then immediately soften, she thinks at her teasingly calling him love. He hides the reaction by licking his teeth lasciviously, Lucifer waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, I know, darling. I believe I demonstrated my talents for you this morning, in fact.” He looks her up and down and hums darkly in that way that suggests he’s replaying how he woke her up this morning.
The sound coupled with the look in his eyes sends a jolt of arousal through Chloe until she has to shift in her seat to alleviate the ache between her legs.
Lucifer smirks, knowing the effect he has on her. The bastard. “Right, then, this one next...” He points at the long, thin box wrapped in shiny red paper.
Smiling, she unwraps it eagerly and lifts the lid (still half-expecting to find a vibrator) to reveal a beautifully-made short sword sheath, the opening lined in gold. “Oh, Lucifer. It’s beautiful...”
“Well,” he says, sounding uncharacteristically bashful, “I thought since I gifted you the sword earlier than I’d intended, you should have some way to properly store and carry it. I know it isn’t much—”
She shakes her head, examining the intricate design pattern—a set of wings on either side of a detective’s badge. “No, I love it! Thank you.”
He looks pleased. “You’re quite welcome, love. There’s also a smaller sheath in there for the demon blade Mazikeen gave you for your everyday-carry. That way you won’t run the risk of tearing your clothing and such.”
Chloe looks into the box again to find the smaller sheath, this one just plain, dark brown leather engraved with her initials, with a belt loop for easy attachment. She began carrying the blade after her abduction by the priests, using a secondhand ankle sheath Maze gave her, but she likes this one better.
“They’re perfect, Lucifer.”
Switching off the stove, he plates their breakfasts and sets them on the island, but makes no move to actually serve her yet. Now, he looks nervous. “This one,” he gestures at the pouch, “isn’t so much from me, but I did call in a favor for it. I wanted to do this for you last year, but had no way to execute the plan and it would have required much more in the way of explanation, and...well. You’ll see...”
Intrigued, Chloe reaches for the pouch, and removes its contents—folded sheets of paper. At first, she thinks it’s more Trixie drawings, but that doesn’t account for Lucifer’s nervousness or the way he’s tugging at the cuffs of his robe.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he says dismissively, eyes locked on the sheaf of papers. “Just pondering whether to give you privacy.”
Why would I need privacy...? Now she’s nervous. “No. Stay, please.”
He relaxes only slightly, reaching for his own coffee. “Go on, then, it won’t bite.”
She unfolds the pages and glances at it—then freezes, because...she knows this handwriting. Only, she hasn’t seen it for nearly eighteen years. But it can’t be... Chloe looks at the top—“Dear Monkey...”—and chokes out a sob, looking up at Lucifer with wide, wet eyes. “Is this...?”
Lucifer nods, giving her a kind, warm smile. “As I said, I called in a favor—from my sister Azrael, actually. I asked her to take a letter of my own to a certain soul in the Silver City, and she was kind enough to deliver this in return.”
Chloe doesn’t know what to say. “Lucifer, I...”
“Read it,” he encourages softly.
Nodding, she wipes the tears blurring her eyes, her heart aching with old grief and loss that she’s tried to bury over the years, and reads:
Dear Monkey,
Imagine my surprise when the Angel of Death shows up on my doorstep with a letter from the Devil, who is apparently your partner now? Once that sank in, and I read what he had to say about you, I couldn’t be happier. Surprised, certainly, but happy. He thinks extremely highly of you and would do anything for you. Azrael had some very glowing things to say about Lucifer, too, so maybe all those stories really are wrong about him.
As a father, that’s the best kind of news I could get—that my baby girl has someone in her corner who respects her, backs her up, and doesn’t try to diminish her or treat her as less than, but loves her and holds her as an equal. Being that this someone is also a fallen angel and the Devil is all the more impressive.
He’s not what I would have originally wanted for you in a partner, but now I can see there is no one better suited for you. You balance one another. You keep him grounded and he pushes you out of your comfort zone. Your mom and I were the same way. I kept her grounded and she pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I loved her for it, even when it drove me crazy. Just as Lucifer loves you and drives you crazy, I’m sure.
There is so much in your life that I have missed. So many birthdays and Christmases, mornings with my egg sandwiches, your graduation from the police academy, the birth of my first grandchild—and I hear congratulations are in order for your second child, a boy! But life has a way of doing that—continuing on even after some of us are gone. I’m glad you’ve found your way in life, when I couldn’t be there for you. You’re an excellent mother, an accomplished detective, and a supportive partner. I am so incredibly proud of the woman you’ve become. You’ve already done so many great things and I can only imagine what you will accomplish in the future.
Happy Birthday, Monkey. I’m sorry I’ve missed so many of them, but I know you are in good hands having Lucifer in your life. You always could handle yourself in tough situations, but I can rest easy here in Heaven knowing that Lucifer has your back.
Love you and miss you,
Dad
By the time she reaches the last word, Chloe is full blown sobbing, tears streaming down her face, and she couldn’t care less. She has spent every day since her dad died wondering and hoping that she’s making him proud, even after taking the one career path he’d hoped she wouldn’t. And here’s the written proof that he is.
She reads the letter three more times before finally setting it down and walking around the kitchen island where Lucifer seems uncertain about whether to comfort her or not. Her arms wrap around his waist and she hugs him as tightly as she can. “Thank you, Lucifer,” she whispers tearfully into his chest. “I cannot tell you how much this means to me.”
Lucifer returns the embrace, one hand cradling her head and his cheek against her hair. “You’re welcome, Chloe,” he murmurs back. “I can’t say I ever understood your feelings towards your father, but I know what he means to you, and I thought you should know how proud you make him, every single day.”
Lifting her face, she kisses him, pouring into it everything she can’t put into words—her gratitude, her love, her pride in him. She so wishes John Decker had gotten the chance to meet Lucifer Morningstar. Oh, he would have hated him at first—the cocky, half-in-the-bag nightclub owner. But once they got to know one another, her dad would have adored her partner, simply for the way Lucifer loves her. And Lucifer would have had the chance to see a proper father figure in action rather than the shitty father he actually has.
“I can’t tell if these are happy tears or pregnancy hormones,” Lucifer teases gently, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.
She lets out a watery laugh. “Both? I can’t believe you even thought of this...” Last year, he said, was when he got the idea. Yeah, that would have been complicated since she didn’t even believe the celestial world existed, much less that her partner was the Devil. “Thank you so much, Lucifer.”
He presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Happy birthday, Detective,” he murmurs against her skin. “Right, then, breakfast, yes? Then, off to work.”
Lucifer is unbelievably relieved at how well received his gift to Chloe was. He didn’t know if it would make her pain and grief worse, and so he hesitated to give it to her. The favor he’d called in to Azrael weeks ago also made him reluctant to go through with his plan; he hadn’t seen his little sister since his Fall, and he’d always been quite resentful about that fact. After all, if any angel would be most likely to make contact with him, it would be the Angel of Death, who’s constantly in and out of Hell often ferrying souls, yet she never did. Hell, he wasn’t even certain she would answer his prayer when he called upon her.
So, when she showed up on the penthouse balcony late one night while Chloe obliviously slept in their bedroom, he’d nearly dropped his whiskey glass. Overall, it had been bittersweet seeing Azrael again; he’d missed her most of all his siblings. She was just as awkward and odd as he remembered, and that fondness he’s always harbored for her returned as soon as they began speaking. Of course, she’d happily agreed to take his letter to John Decker and deliver one in return, once she’d heard what Lucifer had in mind.
She’d hoped to meet Chloe, too, having heard so much about her from Miss Lopez. Apparently, Azrael finally dropped in to visit their mutual friend and took her shoe beating for lying to Miss Lopez about who she really is for so long. But as ever, Miss Lopez had been quick to forgive and eager to learn about the Angel of Death.
Another time, perhaps, Lucifer told his sister in regards to meeting his partner.
To be honest, he isn’t particularly eager for Chloe to meet any of his family—Amenadiel is more than enough, thank you. And once that stopper is pulled, there would be no replacing it. That is, assuming any other siblings actually care enough about him to pop in for a visit.
But Chloe had been incredibly touched to read the letter from her father, the man she most admired and looked up to growing up. The letter Lucifer sent to him was essentially an introduction and telling Officer Decker about the amazing woman his daughter has grown to become. He’d also asked him a question—and was surprised at the answer he’d received; he rather expected a resounding no.
Once Chloe has dried her tears and eaten her breakfast, they head to the precinct where Dan and Miss Lopez are awaiting their arrival with a cake, balloons, and flowers, eager to celebrate the birthday girl. Lucifer can’t hide his smirk at the blush on his partner’s face over the attention she receives; she’s still adorable when she’s flustered. When she opens her desk drawer, confetti explodes from it like a gunshot—which, in a room full of cops, gets quite the hilarious reaction and leaves Miss Lopez slinking away to her lab sheepishly.
“At least you didn’t ambush the Detective with strippers this year—not that I disapproved, of course.” Lucifer grins.
Miss Lopez laughs. “Yeah, I decided against the dudes dressed like sexy angels and devils jumping out of a cake.”
Lucifer grimaces. “And for that, you’ve my utmost gratitude,” he says dryly.
“Sooo...what do you have planned for Chloe? Not sneaking away to Vegas again, are you?”
“Certainly not,” he sniffs primly.
Actually, most everything he’s doing for Chloe today is an attempt to make up for his glaring blunder last year. Despite the emergency situation that couldn’t have come up at a worse time, he thought he was sparing her feelings by not telling her where he was going—or why. At least he’d made it back in time to give her the bullet necklace. They’d spent most of the rest of that night talking in his bed about everything and nothing, and Chloe’s hand hardly ever left the little trinket that still hangs around her neck today.
“Come on, give me the deets!” Miss Lopez wheedles.
Glancing out into the bullpen, he sees Chloe is occupied with receiving well wishes from her colleagues. “She’s requested we keep things low-key this year, so I’ve arranged for dinner on the beach and a few small gifts.” Not to mention the other surprise he has for her. He’d wanted to wait a few more months, to ask her on their one year anniversary, but by then, she’ll be eight months pregnant.
And he’s an impatient Devil.
His stomach churns anxiously as sunset draws closer.
“Aaaaand...?”
“And, what?” he asks innocently. “We’ve the small dinner party planned for this weekend, to which you’re all invited, of course.”
Miss Lopez gives him a look. “Oh, come on, you’re telling me you don’t have something massive planned for Chloe’s birthday. Go on, there, Beelzebub, pull the other leg.”
But he won’t budge on keeping his plans secret. The only people with any inkling of what’s happening are Dr. Linda and the Urchin, the latter of whom he involved just enough to know that she’s on board with the concept. He tries not to reach for his jacket pocket to ensure the item currently burning a hole in his Italian wool is still present and safe.
“Those are my plans, Miss Lopez,” he says, shrugging helplessly. “I did call in a favor from Azrael to assist me with another gift that I gave the Detective this morning.”
That seems to surprise (and distract) the young woman. “I thought you guys weren’t...all that close?” she says carefully.
He sighs. “We’re not, particularly, but my contacts in the Silver City are rather sorely lacking these days, so there we are.”
Miss Lopez tilts her head curiously. “What did you ask her to do?” He tells her, and the heart eyes she tends to get when he and Chloe are being, in her opinion, “totes adorbs” is back. “Lucifer, that was so sweet of you! She must have been so happy!”
“She was, rather,” he confirms, smiling. “Quite a few tears were shed—from the Detective, that is—but yes, she was quite touched by the gesture, I believe.”
“No kidding.” She snorts. “And her dad musta been hella shocked to get a letter from the Devil who’s dating his daughter. Pun totally intended, of course.”
“Yes, well. Officer Decker, by all accounts, was quite a lovely man. Whether he approves of my courting of his only daughter is in question, but...”
Miss Lopez scoffs. “Maybe a couple years ago. Now, all it would take is seeing how obviously you love Chloe and take care of her. He would definitely approve, Lucifer.”
“You think so?” he asks doubtfully, twisting his cufflinks anxiously. “I am the Devil, after all.”
“But that doesn’t mean what everyone thinks it means,” she tells him gently. “Look, I’ve only known you a couple years, and obvi, I don’t know who you were before—but I know you now. You’re a good man, Lucifer. Chloe is so lucky to have you.”
He scoffs lightly. “It is I who is lucky to have her. Eternally so.”
Following a rather uneventful day at the precinct, Chloe and Lucifer return to the penthouse to prepare for her birthday dinner on the beach. Not that she knows that’s where they’re headed; Lucifer only told her to dress warm and comfortably. He’d pondered for days on where to have this dinner—his ideas ranging from the fanciest restaurants Los Angeles has to offer, to taking his yacht out on the water, to flying Chloe somewhere they could sit and stare at the stars in all their glory.
But he’d tailored it to what Chloe would most enjoy—and his Detective likes the simple things in life. So, burgers and fries on the beach where they first kissed won out in the end.
“Why do I have to wear a blindfold?” Chloe complains from the Corvette passenger seat.
He grins, even though she can’t see him. “I’m going to buy you a dictionary, Detective, and highlight the word surprise for you. Honestly, darling, you’d think at your age you’d know the definition by now.”
“At my age?” she repeats archly, and even through the silk cloth around her head, he can feel her glare. “Okay, Mr. Older-Than-Time...”
“I believe the word you're looking for is timeless,” he sniffs primly. “Don’t fret, we’re nearly there. And I heard that eyeroll, Detective.”
She chuckles, then sighs, relaxing finally. There’s been a small smile on her lips all day long, and it’s warmed his heart considerably to know he played a part in making her so happy. As unable as he is to empathize with what she feels for her father, and that constant desire to make him proud, he will support anything that puts a smile on her face.
He helps her avoid obstacles as they walk towards the beach, one hand on her shoulder, the other holding her hand, and finally, he removes the blindfold. Her eyes immediately flash with recognition and her smile grows wider. “Our beach,” she says softly, reaching up to entwine her fingers with his at her shoulder.
“Indeed,” he murmurs, nodding ahead of them where they can see a table set for two. “Shall we?”
Chloe nods, gifting him one of her gorgeous smiles. “We shall,” she says, trying and failing miserably to imitate his accent. He tries to look offended, but there is an incessant smile tugging at his lips, too.
The burgers and fries come from their favorite diner—the same ones they had that first time, when they were quite unfortunately interrupted. “No ketchup, of course.” Lucifer smiles, pouring her a glass of non-alcoholic champagne.
“Foolish condiment,” she says with a wink. “This is perfect, Lucifer. Thank you.”
He smiles shyly. “So, you’ve had an acceptable birthday, then?”
“More than acceptable. This has been the best birthday ever—and not just because of the letter,” she says softly. “It’s because I get to spend it with you.”
This woman is going to be the bloody death of him, he’s sure of it. “Yes, well, I’m glad. You deserve a day that is solely about you, darling. Every day, really.”
Chloe reaches across the table for his hand. “Lucifer, you do make everyday about me, no matter what’s going on. You make me feel so...loved and appreciated, and I just...” She starts getting teary-eyed again and huffs a watery laugh. “I love you.”
“You are loved and appreciated, Chloe. More than you can possibly know.”
She hums, smiling like she has a little secret of her own. “I think I have an idea.”
“Well, you can repay the favor for my birthday when it rolls around,” he jokes.
“Do you even have a real birthday? I mean, you had that party at Lux that time.”
“That was my re-birthday.” Lucifer grins. “I was more celebrating the burning of my wings than anything—I was reborn, if you will. But do feel free to make a day that’s all about me, I certainly don't mind.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She snorts. He smirks. “Seriously, though, thank you for today. All of it.”
Lucifer’s smile softens. “You’re most welcome, Detective.”
Dinner is perfect. They laugh and chat and flirt, and Chloe looks happy and relaxed, whereas Lucifer is quietly getting more nervous. Perhaps he should wait. Is doing this on her birthday considered gauche by humans? Or is it a cliché? Worse than all that—
What if she says no...?
“Hey, you okay?” Chloe asks concernedly. “You look...well, I’d say frazzled, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you frazzled in all the time I’ve known you.”
Lucifer huffs a laugh, running a hand through his hair with no regard for keeping it styled. The wind has already messed it up, and besides, Chloe likes it when his hair is a riot of curls. Especially when she’s the one making it that way. “I suppose I’ve a bit of excess energy. Would you feel up to taking a walk with me? I know your feet have been sore.”
“I’d like that...”
They walk arm-in-arm along the water, after Chloe kicks off her shoes to go barefoot through the sand—and teases Lucifer for being snobby because he refused to do the same. It’s a perfectly clear night for once, and the darkening sky is dotted here and there with stars. Not for the first time does he wish she could have seen his favorite star, the one that is the exact same shade as her eye color. It hadn’t been the most perfect of his creations, but it was one of a kind in the way it shone so brightly—much like the woman on his arm.
Oh, he knows he puts her on a pedestal—but how could he not, with everything she’s done for and given him? He knows she has her flaws: self-worth issues instilled by a demanding mother and a failed marriage; occasional jealousy, which he does enjoy seeing, even if it is entirely unnecessary; a tendency to bottle up unwanted feelings; putting others before herself, even when she should be putting herself first; and he doesn’t think he’ll ever convince her to replace the cap on the bloody toothpaste or to drive more than five miles above the speed limit. But for every flaw she has, there are ten more shining virtues to outweigh them.
This is a woman who was confronted unexpectedly with the celestial, then hit with a meteor of even more celestial, and handled it with bravery and poise he could only ever hope to emulate. In less than a year alone, she learned her partner is the Devil, and transformed into an angel, and is now carrying the Devil’s spawn. Any lesser woman (or man) would have run screaming at the initial sight of Lucifer’s wings, but Chloe confronted him head-on and hasn’t looked back since.
Love doesn’t even begin to cover what he feels for her.
“What are you thinking about?” Her soft, melodic voice breaks through his musings with the perfect segue.
“As a matter of fact...you, Detective.” He brings them to a gentle stop on their return to their table, ending up in the exact spot where she kissed him for the first time. He remembers being utterly dazed and confused, not understanding why she would kiss him after he’d given her a list of reasons that he wasn’t worth her attention. And somehow, that had been what convinced her that he is.
She only looks mildly surprised by his answer. “Me?”
He hums, turning to stand in front of her. “I’m thinking that this last year has been the best of my life,” he says earnestly, her blue eyes shining back at him in the semi-darkness. What’s left of the sunlight accentuates the golden color of her hair, and gives her an ethereal glow, like a full-body halo. He could stare at her all night.
Chloe smiles up at him. “Yeah?”
Swallowing hard (this is it...), he nods and takes both of her hands in his. “Yes. And I want more years like this, Chloe. All of them, in fact—all the moments, good and bad. All of you—every flaw and every virtue. I want our eternity together, and I never want to let you go, because you are, and always will be, the very best thing to ever happen to me.”
“Lucifer...” She’s looking at him with awed eyes shining with tears and love.
“I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I know that with you by my side, I do not fear it. You bring out the best in me, parts of me I thought long dead and buried by my Fall, and by Hell. And you make me want to keep reaching higher, to be better everyday—for you and our son and the Urchin, even if she still does nothing to contribute to the rent—” Chloe laughs wetly. “—as well as for myself. You have given me more in the last nine months than I ever thought possible: acceptance and love; hope and faith; you’ve given me a home and a family. And for that, I will be eternally grateful.
“But as ever, I am a selfish Devil, and as such, I desire more. You are already everything to me—my partner and best friend, my lover and my confidant. The mother of my child. There is just one more thing I would like to ask of you...”
She’s staring up at him wide-eyed and her lips parted, tears already leaking from her eyes. Then she gasps when he releases her right hand to reach into his pocket and he drops to one knee. Her free hand flies to her mouth and a strangled sound of surprise leaves her throat.
“Chloe Jane Decker. My Detective and my love—my soulmate... Will you do me the honor of also becoming my wife? Will you marry me?”
Notes:
😈💍🕵️♀️⁉️
Special thanks to MLGammella for the letter to Chloe from John Decker. If you haven't checked out her works, you definitely should. You won't be disappointed!
Chapter 3: Eternally Yours
Notes:
It's my birthday today, so I'm giving you guys the gift of an early update.
Please mind the rating and tags on this story. This chapter is one of the reasons for them.
Enjoy!
Chapter Text
Ever since finding out about her immortality, Chloe has wondered what eternity with Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil, would look like. There were the downsides, of course, of watching her loved ones grow older and leave the mortal plane for their own eternal existences while she remains frozen in time, youthful and full of life, on Earth. Before her wings gave her the possibility of traveling to the Silver City, her biggest fear was watching her daughter wither before her eyes, and never seeing her again. And it sounded awful.
Lucifer has spent millennia watching the people he’s found to care for die, most of whom he’d never see again. From the moment he met Chloe, he expected the same to happen to her, yet he allowed himself to care for her, anyway, knowing he’d have to say goodbye to her one day. It gave her a new perspective on the whole thing. If only to save him from that pain, she would have wanted to find a way to spend eternity with him.
The more the idea began to sink in, and her wings gave her the possibility to reunite with her loved ones (including her father), she and Lucifer would lay in bed at night discussing all the things they could do together. All the places he wants to take and show her, the adventures they could have—it’s all stretched out in front of them and she started to look forward to it.
She’s been more than happy with what she and Lucifer have in their relationship—the growth they’ve made since they met, from strangers to inseparable soulmates, neither of them running scared anymore. They are building a life together, a family, with Trixie and their son on the way in just a few short months. For the first time in Chloe’s life, she felt complete with Lucifer’s freely offered vow that he’s hers and only hers, for as long as she will have him. She hasn’t needed more than that.
Until right this moment, standing on the beach where she and Lucifer shared their first kiss, where she got her first taste of what could be, with the Devil down on bended knee looking up at her. His eyes are shining brighter than the stars with love and hope as he gives her the most beautiful, romantic speech she’s ever heard in her life and holds a glimmering diamond ring out between them.
“Chloe Jane Decker. My Detective and my love—my soulmate... Will you do me the honor of also becoming my wife? Will you marry me?”
For a moment, she’s unable to find her words through the emotion lodged in her throat and the tears streaming from her eyes to express what she feels for him in return. This sweet, handsome, beautiful man who came into her life like a wrecking ball and stayed to become one of the best things to ever happen to her. Who has shown her what is possible (and even the improbable) and how to live life to the absolute fullest every single day. Who helped her find her confidence and self-worth again, and demonstrated more faith in her abilities than anybody else in her life. And who showed her what true love feels like and what it is to have a soulmate.
When her stunned silence drags on, Lucifer’s expression falters, his shoulders drooping half-inch by half-inch with every second she doesn’t give him her answer, the ring she’s barely looked at lowering between them. “Chloe?” he says, uncertainty seeping into his voice and his posture. His eyes dart away and she sees the flicker of hurt blossoming in his eyes. “Right, then. I see...”
It’s that more than anything that finally snaps her out of her shock at the Devil proposing marriage. Before he can climb to his feet, dust the sand off his suit, force a smile, and crack a joke to hide his pain, her brain kicks back into gear and she reaches for his face. Hope ignites in his eyes again as she leans down and kisses him for all she’s worth. A choked, strangled sound escapes his throat as he kisses her back, one of his hands fisted at the back of her head, holding her close.
They only part because the need to breathe rudely interrupts and she rests her forehead against his, panting to catch her breath. Lucifer is looking up at her like she’s the sun, the stars, the very answer to the question of life itself. “Was that...a yes?” he asks, uncertainty seeping into his expression again. “Only, there is always a verbal answer to that particular question in the movies, and you’ve not...”
Chloe chokes out a watery laugh at her adorably dorky boyfriend fiancé. “Yes, Lucifer,” she manages to get out. “Yes, of course I will marry you!”
The sheer incredulous joy in his eyes right now is indescribable. “Really?”
She nods, smiling so widely it hurts, and he lets out a laugh of pure elation. Hand trembling ever so slightly, he brings it to where he still holds her left one and carefully, lovingly slips the ring onto her finger—to her absolute non-surprise, it’s the perfect fit. Then he climbs to his feet, not bothering to wipe the sand from his $5000 trousers, cups her face in both of his hands and kisses her so passionately it steals her breath again.
“Chloe...” he murmurs when they part for a second time, tears slipping from his eyes. “My Chloe.”
Cupping the back of his neck, she nods, holding him close. “Yours,” she promises, wiping his tears with her thumb.
She has never seen him as happy as he is right now, and that feeling is mirrored in her. “Just as I’m yours,” he vows, stroking her cheek and tucking errant strands of hair behind her ear. “Eternally.”
“I cannot believe you actually, willingly got sand on your Italian wool pants,” she teases, wiping the offending granules from his knee—it leaves a wet spot behind he couldn’t look less bothered about.
“Yes, Alejandro will not be pleased,” he sniffs primly, though it’s ruined by the huge smile on his face. “But some things are worth sacrificing even Tom Ford for. And it’s trousers, Detective, not pants.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
“So my fiancée has said,” he states proudly. “Many, many times before.”
Chloe leans closer, pressing a kiss to his chest, directly over his heart. “Hmm, I like the sound of that... Fiancé,” she murmurs right back to him. His chest rumbles an inhuman happy sound. Tilting her head back to look at him—he’s not taken his eyes from her since she said yes—she knows there’s only one thing for them to do now. “Take me home, Lucifer.”
Eyes flashing with desire—and just the faintest hint of red—Lucifer lifts her left hand to his lips, kissing the knuckle above her finger that now proudly bears his ring, his teeth lightly nipping the skin and sending a shiver throughout her body. “Your wish is my command, Detective,” he says in a seductively low, dark voice that promises pleasure she can’t even begin to imagine.
But first they have to get home...
Physical invincibility is nothing new to Lucifer; he’s an archangel and the Devil, now invulnerable even around his Detective, and it’s just the way things are and have always been. At this point, he takes it for granted.
Emotional invincibility is a whole other story. As much as he likes to pretend he exudes confidence to the point of arrogance at all times, it’s only a front—always has been. It’s a way to protect himself from being perceived as weak and from getting hurt; from having his heart broken. After all, if he doesn’t care, then nothing can break him.
The first time he ever felt emotionally invincible was when Chloe hugged him on those university stairs nearly two years ago now. He remembers with painful clarity sitting in that dive bar beside Mazikeen and across from his mother, and proudly and freely telling them both that he and Chloe were “real and he feels invincible”. The feeling of it was unlike any other he’d ever experienced, making his chest ache in the best way possible, and he truly felt as though he could conquer the world in that moment. All from a simple hug, of all things.
Only, it hadn’t felt all that simple to him—Chloe’s genuine worry for his safety before she dashed off after the mad professor and he rushed into a room full of poisonous gas; her relief as she threw her arms around his neck and whispered, “I’m so glad you’re okay”. The look in her eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers—the first time of many since then. The feel of her fingers on his cheeks, his neck, reassuring herself that he was, indeed, okay.
Lucifer could have happily lived off that moment alone for a millennium.
It had all fallen apart shortly after his announcement to his mother and his demon, but he isn’t focusing on that at the moment.
So many times since then, Chloe has given him that invincible feeling again—every time she smiles, laughs, and kisses him; every time she tells him that she loves him; every time they’re tangled together in their bed, making love. But no moment more than the one they just experienced on the beach—their beach, as Chloe dubbed it—when she agreed to marry him, to officially be his for eternity.
There had been that brief stretch when he thought he’d made the worst mistake in the history of mistakes by asking at all, when she stood there staring at him in shock, when he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces because he thought she was about to let him down gently and say she doesn’t want to marry him. He knows now she was only surprised by his question, which he can understand. After all, they’ve never even discussed marriage in the nine months they’ve been a couple.
In fact, he’s made his opinion on matrimony and shackling oneself to one person for the rest of their lives quite clear...before he learned why somebody would be that bloody foolish. It’s because they can’t envision themselves with anybody else ever again, for as long as they shall live; can’t imagine loving anybody else in that way. The idea that Chloe feels the same way about him as he does about her? He speaks every language that has ever and will ever exist, human and other, and there are no words to describe what he feels right now.
Looking over at her now as he speeds back towards Lux, her hair flying out behind her, eyes bright, her smile is carefree and contented. The only word he can think of that comes anywhere near but still not close enough to describing how he feels is euphoric. Their fingers are tangled over the gearshift, his ring on her finger sparkling every time they pass beneath a streetlamp.
He’d contemplated the ring for days, first looking at ones available in jewelry boutiques and through (not entirely legal, slightly shady) contacts, searching for the perfect one to adorn her finger should she say yes. He sought one that screamed Chloe Decker, but had been disappointed at every turn and wondered if his standards were just too high. But then he’d watch Chloe as she slept beside him, looking adorable and gorgeous even as she snored loudly enough to disturb the entire city, and he realized...no, his standards weren’t too high; they weren’t high enough.
He had a vague idea going in what he wanted, and when he couldn’t find it in already crafted rings, he contacted the jeweler who made the bullet necklace for assistance. Ronaldo had been delighted to help once Lucifer explained his plans and specifically what he desired in an engagement ring, and had come through in spades—and far quicker than Lucifer had expected. The man had even offered to create wedding rings for Lucifer and Chloe when the time comes—once he saw how much Lucifer was willing to pay him for his time and craftsmanship.
The thing about Chloe is, she would be happy with any ring he’d given her, and he knows that. He could have handed her some cheap, plastic, cubic zirconia monstrosity and she would have been over the moon, because that’s who she is: She appreciates everything he gives her and never expects it. But she deserves the best the universe has to offer and Lucifer, being who he is, can deliver her heart’s desire and more, so of course he’s going to go to great lengths to give her the best of everything.
He isn’t always great about vocalizing his feelings, his own emotions so stunted by Hell that he barely understands them himself, let alone has the knowledge and experience to express them. So giving her things, sending her flowers at work, buying expensive dinners at five-star restaurants, and whatever else pops into his mind is how he can do that, on top of doing things for her, of course. Angels, when they find their mate (not even necessarily a romantic one; siblings can have platonic mates), begin to nest, and one of the nesting rituals is bringing shiny things to one’s mate. It’s literally in his nature to want to provide material possessions for her.
The ring looks beyond perfect on her slim, feminine finger, and he couldn’t be more proud of himself for the choice if he tried. As though she’s having the same thoughts, she disentangles their fingers and holds her hand up in front of her face—it’s the first time since he placed the ring there that she’s taken a moment to examine it thoroughly. Glancing at her expression as he weaves through late evening Los Angeles traffic, he sees the soft smile on her lips and the even softer look in her eyes as she studies first the ring, then him as he drives.
“You look happy,” he says casually, as if he, too, isn’t walking on air at the moment. “Quite pleased with yourself. Of course, you should be, locking this,” he gestures vaguely at himself with one hand, “down for the rest of eternity. Lucky Detective...”
Her laugh is free and joyful, and it sends waves of warmth through his body. “I am happy,” she confirms softly, not bothering to further acknowledge the rest of his statement. “You make me so happy, Lucifer.”
He swallows a lump of emotion in his throat at her words. “Yes, likewise, Chloe,” he murmurs, because if he says anything more, he may just turn into a blubbering ball of pathetitude.
By the time they reach Lux, while his elation is still present, desire begins to set in with every glance of Chloe that he steals. He tosses the keys to the valet without taking his eyes off of her, slipping a possessive hand around her hip and pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he leads her through the club to the elevator. People all around them attempt to attract his attention with a smile or a wave or a look of seduction, but he pays them no mind; why would he, when he has Chloe? Besides, if all of Los Angeles hasn’t figured out he’s permanently off the market...well, that isn’t his problem, is it?
He manages to wait until the doors are shut, blocking them off from his club, and he inputs the passcode and his fingerprint to take them upstairs. Then he spins towards her and walks her backwards until she hits the wall, protectively cradling the back of her skull. In the next moment, his lips are on hers and he’s biting her bottom one, soothing it with his tongue, then licking into her mouth. His hands are on either side of her face to hold her steady, not that she seems the least bit inclined to move away.
Chloe’s hands slide beneath his suit jacket, eagerly tugging his shirt out of his trousers so she can feel his bare skin beneath her palms, and kisses him back with matching fire and enthusiasm. This is a dance they’ve perfected in their months together, and yet, there is always a newness to it, making it feel like the first time, every time.
When the doors to the penthouse finally slide open, his jacket is on the floor of the elevator along with hers, his shirt is halfway unbuttoned, and he’s working hers up her body, his lips and teeth on her throat. She sighs, cradling his head against her neck as he lifts her into his arms and carries her into the bedroom where he gently lays her out on their bed and pulls back enough to look at her. She’s flushed, lips kiss swollen and parted as she tries to catch her breath. The blue of her eyes is already nearly completely receded with lust and desire of her own.
“Stunning,” he exhales, his eyes moving lower.
Her breasts are already a bit larger—not that he has complaints about that—with the pregnancy along with her belly, which is rounder by the day as their child grows. Something primal and possessive flows through him at the sight—he’s the reason she looks like this, his seed, his progeny, his son. He knows without having to think about it that he would do anything for either of them, whatever it takes to keep them safe and happy.
His hands slide along her sides to the button of her slacks and flicks it open, pulling them along with her knickers down her legs. Normally, he might leave the panties to tease her a bit longer, but he isn’t feeling particularly patient at the moment. One glance at her face as she bites her lip and watches him hungrily says she is just as keen.
When he stands from the bed to remove his trousers, though, she follows him. He furrows his eyebrows for a moment until he realizes what she’s up to, her hands roaming his chest, exploring every new muscle and divot, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses to his skin, until one hand finds his clothed cock and she presses her palm to it. He hisses, thrusting involuntarily into her touch and tilts his head back slightly.
She strokes him over the material of his trousers while her other hand unbuttons and unzips him, then slides a hand inside to wrap her fingers around his hard length. When he realizes it’s her left hand, and can feel his ring on her finger against his cock, he barely bites back a moan. As ever, a slave for her touch and attention, he pushes himself further into her hand. She’s smirking as she leans forward to take one of his nipples in between her lips.
Chloe flips their positions so that his back is to the bed and presses down on his shoulders, urging him to sit—he does. She starts to lower herself to the floor between his legs; he stops her.
“Darling, you don’t have to...” The last thing he wants is for her to be uncomfortable simply to give him pleasure.
She kisses him too briefly and he chases her lips for more. “I want to,” she murmurs. “Let me?”
Unable to deny her any desire, he swallows his arguments; instead, he reaches for a fluffy pillow to throw onto the floor, pointless though it may be, given her invulnerability. It’s the thought that counts, yes?
Pressing her lips together against a laugh, she kisses him again, continuing down to her knees as her hands find him again, stroking him a few times before she leans forward and takes him into her mouth. He can’t bite back his moan this time, tipping his head backwards as his eyes roll to the back of his skull. He’s had blowjobs from porn stars who weren’t nearly as skilled as Chloe Decker—just as he had on their first night together, he wonders where to send the fruit basket (and really hopes it’s not Jed—or worse, Dan.)
“Bloody hell, Chloe, your mouth...” She hums in response and he groans at the vibration moving along his cock.
Something about her mouth is pure magic and he can never get enough of it. A couple months ago, she finally handcuffed him to their bed and spent hours bringing him to the edge, teasing and tormenting until he was a panting mess begging for release. The things this woman can do with her tongue and a lack of a gag reflex...
He falls backwards to the mattress when she takes him all the way in, letting the hand not caressing his chest and abs join the fray—and if she keeps going like this...
“Chloe...” he whimpers, one of his hands finding the back of her head—not forcing, just holding, pulling her hair back into a makeshift ponytail. He manages to push up onto his elbow so he can watch her. “Fuck,” he exhales hard at the sight of her watching him right back.
He can feel her smirking around him. Then she begins praying to him, telling him how beautiful he looks, how good he tastes, that she wants to see him lose control because of her, and he can feel his climax quickly approaching. The Devil, they’ve discovered, has developed a bit of a praise kink and she takes advantage of that as much as she can, telling him he’s good, so good, and on and on. Far sooner than he’s ready, he’s squeezing his eyes shut, throwing his head back, and grounding out some approximation of her name. Earlier in their relationship, it embarrassed him how quickly he would come on occasion, but the look of pride on Chloe’s face immediately wiped it away. And bloody hell, does she earn that pride.
Lucifer feels the mattress dip and Chloe crawling over him, but doesn’t open his eyes until she’s kissing his forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, and finally, his lips. A lazy, artless smile grows on his face at the sight of her.
“Hmm, that was...” His mind is too far gone to find the appropriate description. “Bloody hell, Chloe. I think my soul left my body for a moment.”
She chuckles quietly above him. “I’m glad you enjoyed.”
“‘Enjoyment’ would be a vast understatement, darling.” He lifts a hand to her face, bringing her down for a kiss, humming at the taste of himself on her tongue. “My turn,” he purrs, carefully rolling them until she’s on her back, head comfortably on the pillows. “I want to taste my fiancée.”
He kisses his way to her neck when her eyes instantly dilate and a whine falls from her lips, taking time to pay homage to her breasts. She gasps, her sensitivity heightened in this region recently, and he gentles his lips, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
On his journey towards his ultimate goal, he stops at her belly, pressing a kiss over where their baby rests, and Chloe gives him a soft smile, petting his hair. Her legs spread to accommodate his broad shoulders, and he nips at each of her inner thighs, soothing each bite with his tongue, then licks a stripe up her center. Her back arches as she moans loudly.
Hands at her hips to hold her steady, Lucifer gets to work, having memorized everything she likes most to maximize her pleasure—particularly that thing she likes best. Nothing is sexier than Chloe in the throes of passion, especially when she loses control and pulls his hair hard enough that, were he anybody else, she might yank it right out. As it is, he can’t get enough of the pleasure-pain, having never experienced it fully until her.
With her legs thrown over his shoulders, he uses every trick he knows, keeping her right at the edge as he soaks up her sounds, her Lucifer, please’s, and how beautiful she looks—he could do this for days on end. Except, he wants to see her shatter beneath his tongue, so when she starts moving against him, desperate for more, Lucifer doubles down until she’s screaming his name into the ether and holds his face against her, unwilling to let him go far. Not that he has any intention of doing so; he likes where he is as much as she does.
He gentles his tongue and fingers, working her through it until she relaxes her hold on him, and he backs away before she gets oversensitive. Wiping his face with his hand, Lucifer crawls up her body, kissing every inch he can reach until he’s at her mouth. She opens for him immediately, kissing him back like she’s in a daze she can’t quite shake.
“See what you mean ‘bout the soul leaving...thingy,” she pants when she opens her eyes again. He waggles his eyebrows and smirks smugly, preening with pride. She laughs at his antics.
Once she’s significantly settled, Lucifer kisses along her neck again, then higher, pushing some hair out of his way. “How do you want me, Chloe?” he murmurs into her ear, hands sliding down her sides.
She pushes on his shoulder, a smirk on her own lips, until he’s the one on his back and she’s hovering above him. She leans down to nip at his jaw. “Just like this,” she whispers against his ear, teeth scraping his earlobe.
He exhales hard, holding her at the hips. “I’m all yours,” he breathes, head dropping to the pillow.
Chloe hums, her hair falling around them like a curtain. “Damn right you are...”
He moans as her wet center slides along his shaft and she adjusts her grip to the headboard, one hand moving between them to line him up so he slides right into her. Both of them sigh in contentment and relief when he’s filled her, completing their physical connection.
“So good...”
He nods his agreement, pushing into her while she adjusts then starts to move, rocking back and forth, and in circles, squeezing her muscles around him, and...fuck...
“Chloe...”
She whimpers, head thrown back. Lucifer reaches up to cup her breasts and tweaking her nipples, letting her move however she desires and just enjoying the ride. He leans up, capturing one of her nipples between his lips. Her hand finds the back of his head, cradling him there again as her fingers tighten in his hair.
For a while, the only sounds are their moans and the sounds of bodies meeting. There’s a sheen of sweat on her skin that makes her glow; he licks every inch of her he can reach. “So beautiful...” he groans. “My Detective...”
Her movements falter and he knows she’s getting tired, so he gently moves her onto the mattress, onto her side, rolling to press his chest against her back and lifting her leg over his hip to slide back inside her. Chloe cries out a garbled amalgamation of his name, reaching a hand back to thread her fingers in his hair. He thrusts harder, kissing and nipping the skin of her neck and shoulder, her jaw and cheek. She twists her head around to capture his lips in a messy kiss that’s hotter than anything, then her head is falling to his shoulder and she’s tightening around him so much he can barely move.
“Lucifer!” She moans and whimpers. “Yes!”
Growling, he pounds faster, harder and she’s coming around him, keening. “Chloe,” he groans into her neck as he follows her, his left hand finding hers and entwining their fingers, and he can feel his ring on her finger again, and then he’s in oblivion.
Struggling to catch his breath, he’s still quite aware of her comfort, lowering her leg and slipping out of her, kissing her shoulder when she whines at the loss. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs against her skin. As quickly as possible, and on shaking legs, he retrieves a warm, wet towel to clean her up, then himself, and is back behind her again, holding her close. “I love you,” he whispers against her ear.
“Love you,” she exhales sleepily. “My Devil...”
His idiotic grin is back. “Yours, darling.”
He holds her while she dozes, for close to an hour, and can’t imagine anything more perfect than this. Lucifer will never understand how he managed to get so lucky as to have Chloe Decker agree to marry him for one lifetime, let alone all of them. They will likely never know just how involved his father was in placing her here, whether this was His plan all along or if Lucifer healing Chloe with his feather, triggering her angelic ascension, knocked that plan off its course. It doesn’t matter anymore. They’re here, together, with a son on the way and a wedding to plan, and eternity stretched out before them. How could he care about anything else?
His hand slides down to her belly, palm settling protectively over where their baby rests, inactive for the moment. Good, he’s letting Chloe rest rather than practicing his football skills in the middle of the night as he has been. It still amazes Lucifer whenever he feels their son move, and he’s becoming more and more eager to finally meet the child.
Whether he’s full angel or just part, or completely human matters not to the Devil, so long as he’s healthy and happy—and he doesn’t give his mother too much trouble on the way out. (Lucifer really must stop falling down rabbit holes in the middle of the night where he finds birthing videos; not to mention reading statistics of what could go wrong. Humanity calls the Devil the root of all evil when God is the one who made birthing children so bloody gory and dangerous.)
Pushing those images from his mind, he wonders what sort of wedding Chloe might want. If it were solely up to him, they would go all out on a destination wedding somewhere exotic—a private island, perhaps—and spare no expenses with a couple hundred guests, then the biggest wedding reception known to mankind afterwards. But then, he does love a spectacle, and any chance to have the spotlight on him, he’ll take it.
Chloe is the opposite. She’s opened up quite a bit, far more willing to join him at Lux than she was before they became a couple, and happy to let her hair down. He was surprised when he got her on the dance floor on their first date—moves that make the Devil blush, indeed. Still, it’s likely she will prefer something smaller for their wedding, something intimate with just friends and family. Perhaps they can compromise—small wedding; massive spectacle of a reception; long honeymoon. Or as long as they can have, depending on when they wed. Their offspring will likely be born by then and they may not wish to be away too terribly long.
He’d marry her tomorrow. Right bloody now, even; he can think of half a dozen judges who owe him favors that could officiate over Facetime.
Chloe hums, shifting a little as she comes out of her doze, turning her head to the side, her back still towards him. He shifts up onto his elbow to better see her sleepy smile. “Hi,” she murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
“Hello.” He leans down to kiss her slowly, thoroughly. “Enjoy your nap?”
She nods, rolling to her other side to face him. Her left hand finds his chest, directly over his heart, and she gazes at her ring.
“Do you like it?” He tries to keep the anxiety out of his voice, but he’s sure he fails.
She bites her lip against what he’s sure is a ridiculous smile and nods, staring at the ring—a platinum band with a one-karat center diamond, the band fully embedded all around with smaller diamonds.
“It’s perfect, Lucifer,” she breathes, twisting her hand around to catch the light from the bar. Her smile turns teasing. “Although, I am kind of surprised you didn’t get, like, a ten-karat diamond.”
“I considered it,” he sniffs, reaching for her hand so he can better see how perfectly it fits her finger. “But I wanted something that was more...you. Still, I am not cheap.”
She snorts a laugh, probably remembering their case where they pretended to be an engaged couple looking for a ring—and her accusations. “I know you’re not cheap, Lucifer,” she says, soothing his ego.
“Just saying.” He kisses her knuckle. “In the end, I had this designed through the jeweler who made your necklace.”
Chloe blinks in surprise. “You designed this?” He nods, feeling shy all of a sudden. Which is just...absurd. “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
“You deserve the best, Chloe,” he murmurs earnestly. “And I will only give you the best.” He isn’t referring to diamonds or jewels, but himself.
“I know you will.” She leans in to kiss him sweetly. “Trixie is going to lose her mind. Ella, too, for that matter.”
“Ah. Yes, about the Urchin...she may already be aware that I planned to propose—just not when.”
“You...told her?”
Lucifer gives a half-shrug. “Yes. Well. I requested her opinion on the matter,” he says delicately, though he doesn’t particularly know why he’s being so careful about it. “I didn’t want her to think I was...trying to replace her father or stealing you away from her.”
“You asked for my daughter’s blessing to propose?” Chloe looks confounded.
He clears his throat. “And perhaps your father’s.”
Chloe stares at him for a moment, processing his words as if they don’t quite make sense. He can see in her eyes the very moment they do. The kiss she bestows upon him is hard and messy, full of emotion she can’t quite voice. Lucifer groans into it, gripping her side to anchor himself to the moment. When he tastes salty tears, he pulls away, looking at her with concern.
“Chloe?”
She shakes her head, smiling reassuringly. “Thank you. For including Trixie. And my dad.”
“Yes, well, it seemed the thing to do,” he murmurs, wiping away her tears. “But we are going to need earplugs for Miss Lopez’s glass-shattering squeals.”
Chloe laughs.
Lucifer smiles. “Can I get you anything? A snack? Hydration, perhaps? The night is still quite young, after all...” He presses his tongue to his cheek, leering down at her naked body where the sheet has slipped lower. “And I have plans for you...”
“Water would be nice, thank you,” she says, then her expression shifts, fingers sliding tantalizingly down his chest as she leans in to whisper into his ear, “Then...get thee behind me, Satan...”
He groans. Bloody hell, this is going to be a lovely night.
Ella’s squeals of joy can be heard in San Francisco, Chloe is certain. Lucifer, the absolute bastard who is her beloved fiancé, managed to miss out due to his therapy session (it’s Linda’s first day back in the office, seeing only select clients at the moment), and Chloe’s ears are still ringing. Even the baby in her belly protested the noise, kicking her hard in the spleen as retaliation for subjecting him to it. Ella is talking a mile a minute about a bachelorette party she somehow managed to convince Chloe needs to happen.
“We...haven’t even set a date,” Chloe says faintly as she watches Ella furiously scribbling notes on a pad of paper. In fact, there wasn’t much talking at all last night—or this morning. “There’s probably no rush here, Ella.”
“Pfft. Never too early to plan the bachelorette party, Decker,” Ella responds without looking up. “And what do you mean, you haven’t set a date yet? Lock that shit down, Chloe!”
The door opens behind Chloe. “What is going on in here?” asks Dan’s slightly wary voice.
Before Chloe can even take a breath: “Lucifer and Chloe are getting married!” Ella blurts excitedly, then slams a hand across her mouth.
Chloe throws her a look. “Thanks, Ella...”
The younger woman winces, dropping her hand. “Sorry...”
“Wow...”
Chloe is taken aback by Dan’s surprise. “Trixie didn’t tell you?”
“Not a word...” Dan approaches, eyes darting to her left hand—his eyes bug out. “Damn. Uh, congratulations, Chlo. Seriously, I’m happy for you.”
Chloe lets out a sigh that definitely isn’t relief that Dan isn’t causing a fuss about her marrying the Devil—or about the Devil becoming his daughter’s stepfather.
“I’m guessing this was last night?”
Chloe nods, unable to restrain her smile at the memory. “It was soo romantic, Dan,” Ella gushes, heart eyes sparkling, hands clasped against her chest.
Dan lifts an eyebrow. “You were there?”
Ella shakes her head. “No, but I made Chloe tell me everything.”
Well, Chloe didn’t tell her everything—just the proposal and Lucifer’s speech. Everything that happened later at the penthouse is between Chloe and Lucifer.
“Wait, Trixie knew?”
“Sort of?” Chloe says. “Lucifer wanted to make sure she was okay with us getting married.”
She doesn’t tell them that her devilish angel also asked for her father’s blessing—from Heaven. Dan is still sort of coming to terms with all things celestial; he’s much better than he was, though. He hasn’t shot anybody else. But he still gets a bit tripped up, and Chloe communicating with her late-father might be too much. Besides, that’s something she wants to keep for herself.
“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Ella gushes again.
Even Dan looks impressed by the gesture. “So, when’s the wedding?”
“They haven’t set a date, yet!” Ella complains, glaring at Chloe. “Seriously, what are you waiting for?”
“We haven’t even been engaged for twenty-four hours yet,” Chloe reminds her, biting back her exasperation. It isn’t like she and Lucifer are going anywhere. “Give us a minute to get used to it.”
Ella grumbles but subsides, returning to her notepad and muttering under her breath. Chloe is sure she hears the words cake, penis, and balloons, and that’s when she decides to leave her friend to her plans, gesturing for Dan to lead the way out of the lab.
“Ella is in charge of your bachelorette party?” Dan asks, amused.
Chloe rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “I didn’t even want one, but she gave me that puppy-dog look.”
Dan nods knowingly; he’s fallen victim to it, too. “Well, best of luck with that,” he teases good-naturedly.
He and Chloe are on much better terms than they were directly after the shooting; she’s forgiven him, for Trixie’s sake, mostly, and while they aren’t back to where they were, where she would confide in Dan as a friend, they can tease each other again.
“Any idea when you’ll want the wedding—before or after the baby?”
“Honestly, I haven’t really even thought about it yet,” Chloe answers on the walk back to her desk. Though after might be best—that way their son can be with them in person, and Chloe won’t be the size of a house. “I was going to tell you first, but then Ella saw the ring...”
Dan shakes his head, smiling. “Don’t worry about it, Chlo. All that matters is that you’re happy.” He tilts his head. “You are happy?”
She smiles softly. “Happier than I’ve ever been.” She feels a bit guilty saying that to her ex-husband, but it’s the truth, and she has no intention of hiding her feelings for Lucifer.
“Good.” He squeezes her shoulder in a friendly manner. “You deserve happiness, Chlo.”
“So do you. How are you and Charlotte?”
Dan actually flushes. “Uh, yeah...” He clears his throat. “Yeah, we’re good. Really good, actually...”
Chloe still hasn’t had the nerve to ask Dan whether he’s aware he was originally sleeping with the Goddess of All Creation, who is also the Devil’s Mother. She’d considered it when he first found out about the existence of the celestial, but she wasn’t feeling quite that petty.
She smiles. “I’m glad. I really like Charlotte, and so does Trix.”
They’re interrupted by one of the rookies delivering a new case file to Dan. He glances at it, then sighs. “Guess I’m heading out. Talk to you later?”
Chloe waves glumly and heads to her desk. She’s only been on desk duty a short time, and already misses being in the field. Sighing, she grabs a cold case file and gets started.
The things we do for our kids...
Chapter 4: The Lightbringer's Son
Notes:
Thank you for all the birthday wishes in the last chapter! 🥰😊
Hope you enjoy this one!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chloe isn’t immediately certain what wakes her. It’s still dark, that much she can tell, with the tree root chandelier as the only light in the penthouse. Even after all this time, since Cain abducted her and she woke up in complete darkness, Chloe can’t sleep without some light. As it turns out, Lucifer has a similar aversion to the dark, only his dates back to when he landed in Hell.
Speaking of Lucifer...
Her brain is starting to wake up and she registers the distressed whimpers and murmurs, and the restless fidgeting behind her.
Shit...
Chloe is no stranger to Lucifer’s nightmares; they range from his Fall to his time in Hell to witnessing something happening to her. Turning over, she can make out the tortured agony in his expression as he sleeps on. He’s negating something in a murmur, almost like he’s pleading with somebody. Begging them.
“Lucifer.” Somehow, in his sleep, he ended up on the very edge of the bed. He started out in the middle, wrapped around her like an octopus. “Lucifer, hey. It’s okay, wake up, babe. You’re having a bad dream.”
Sometimes it’s more difficult to break him out of it than others. Tonight, it seems, is going to be a rough one. Reaching for his shoulder, she carefully shakes him, mindful of his tendency to lash out depending on the content of the dream. He’s never actually struck her and would never do so intentionally; she would never blame him if something happened accidentally, but she knows he would. He’d never forgive himself if he harmed her.
“Come on, babe, time to wake up.” She strokes his hair and that seems to reach him.
He gasps like he was drowning, eyes wide open as he pants and sits straight up in bed, bringing his knees to his chest and burying his face there. His shoulders shake in silent sobs.
Chloe reaches for his shoulder again, trying to comfort him as her heart breaks for this man who has so much hurt that he doesn’t know how to deal with it sometimes. But at her touch, Lucifer startles, nearly falling out of bed, and snaps his gaze to her, his wide, wet eyes full of raw agony and grief.
His eyebrows furrow as if he wasn’t expecting to see her beside him. “Chloe?” he asks, his voice breaking on the second syllable.
Chloe gives him a soothing smile. “Hey,” she says softly, scooting closer. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Relief crashes into him so hard, it’s visible. “You’re here,” he whimpers, staring at her like he hasn’t seen her for years.
It’s Chloe’s turn to be confused. “Of course I’m here, Lucifer. Where else would I be?”
Exhaling sharply, he practically crashes into her, wrapping himself around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She can feel his hot tears on her skin. “You’re here...you’re here...” he murmurs brokenly over and over again.
Chloe manages to free her arms to hold him to her as best she can, cradling his head and running her fingers through his hair. “It’s okay, I’m here. I’m right here, Lucifer. I’m not going anywhere,” she murmurs into his ear, feeling a bit helpless against his grief and whatever he dreamed.
Lucifer’s entire body is shaking, his head most of all as if he’s denying her words; he just holds her tighter.
She doesn’t know how long they sit cuddled in bed, Lucifer as in her lap as he can be, while she tries to calm him. He’s never been like this after a nightmare, so inconsolable and she feels a bit out of her depth, but she does her best to soothe him.
Finally, he begins to settle, loosening his hold on her only a fraction. When he lifts his head, his eyes are rimmed with red and his cheeks are stained with tears. She’s seen him shed a few tears here and there, and she’s seen him struggle to not shed tears, but this...
“Oh, Lucifer,” she murmurs, gently thumbing away his tears. She presses their foreheads together, and that seems to comfort him further. Part of her wants to ask him what happened; the rest of her is screaming, no, don’t make him relive it!
He looks at her with such anguish and pain in his eyes that it breaks her heart all over again. “You were gone,” he whispers in that lost voice that makes him sound so much younger than he is. “...you left.”
Chloe feels like she’s been punched in the gut. She isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to comprehend the power she has over this ancient, timeless being—literally, a King of an entire realm of existence—that a dream about losing her can wreck him like this. “Listen to me,” she whispers firmly, cupping his face. She waits until he meets her gaze, his chin trembling. “I am not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”
“Chloe...” he breathes, chest hitching like it’s painful just to say her name.
“No.” She holds up her left hand, showing him the ring that he put there just a few days ago. “Partners ‘til the end. Nothing is going to change that.”
He’s shaking his head again. “I screwed up,” he whispers brokenly, self-crimination filling his eyes. “I don’t know what I did, but I screwed up, and you took our son...and you left.” There's an accusation in his tone that she tries not to take personally.
“That will never happen,” she says fiercely. “Lucifer, do you trust me?” She knows the answer, but she needs to remind him of it.
He blinks, but nods without hesitation. “With everything that I am.”
“Then trust me now when I say: No matter what happens, we will always work it out. We will always find a way through any problem. And I will never take our son away from you.” Chloe reaches for his trembling hand and presses the palm to her belly. In response, or perhaps in support of what Chloe is telling Lucifer, their son kicks against his hand. Lucifer makes a choked sound and stares in wonder at their hands. “You are his father. You will always be his father—that is not a privilege, Lucifer; that is a right. We’re not going anywhere.”
We are yours, eternally.
He gasps when her spoken words become prayer, and after a moment, his expression finally begins to clear. He takes a shuddering breath and looks around as if confirming for himself the world is as it should be. “My apologies, darling,” he murmurs, suddenly looking embarrassed as he turns back to her. “I’m being silly, I shouldn’t have woken you.”
“Yes, you absolutely should have,” she argues, wiping away the last of his tears from his cheeks. “Because whatever you were dreaming, you were suffering, Lucifer, and I never want to see you suffer.”
He huffs a relieved laugh, allowing her to recline them back to the pillows so that she’s curled into his side. He presses a firm kiss to the top of her head. “I suppose I still worry. Every time something good comes into my life, it’s ripped away from me—I can’t lose this.”
And every time he says something like that, it shreds her heart to ribbons. “You won’t.” Because she will fight anybody who tries to come between them; who tries to take this away from them.
Little by little, Lucifer begins to relax as Chloe plays connect the freckles on his chest, pressing kisses to his shoulder every so often, toying with the end of her hair. “Thank you,” he breathes against her forehead. Then before she can ask what for, he answers, “For loving me.”
“You never have to thank me for that, Lucifer.”
He scoffs in disagreement, his hand still on her belly, his thumb absently rubbing gentle circles against her skin.
She tries to think of something to change the subject, but the one thing that comes to mind should probably be discussed in a better mindset. Still... “You know, at some point, we’re going to have to give him a name.”
Lucifer looks down at her thoughtfully. “Any suggestions?”
Chloe hesitates. “...maybe...”
His expression turns intrigued. “So long as it doesn’t end in -el or relate to my father in any way, I—”
“Lucas,” she blurts, watching his reaction closely. His mouth snaps closed and his eyebrows pull into a frown, but she can’t tell what he thinks of the name. “It means—”
“Bringer of light,” he murmurs softly, his eyes filling with their own light.
She nods with a smile. “Fitting for the Lightbringer’s son, I thought. But if you don’t like it...”
“You...wish to name him after me?”
Chloe frowns, bemused. “Well, I mean, he’s going to have your last name—Morningstar.” Or so she assumed. “I went through a bunch of baby name sites, but Lucas is the only one that stood out.” His eyes are moving back and forth between hers, studying her intently. Her heart drops in disappointment. “You don’t like it.”
“I didn’t say that,” Lucifer denies immediately. “I simply...” He doesn’t finish the sentence. “Lucas Morningstar,” he tests the name out on his tongue, his lips hitching into a tiny smile. “And I believe it is customary to have a middle name as well?”
“Not necessarily, but—”
“Lucas John Morningstar,” he says slowly and deliberately. Her heart skips a beat as she stares at him. “Named after his father and his grandfather.”
Swallowing a lump of emotion that isn’t entirely pregnancy hormones, Chloe nods. “I love it.” Her hand joins his over her belly. “Lucas John Morningstar—it’s perfect.”
Lucifer shimmies his way down the bed until his face is level with her belly. “And what are your thoughts on the subject, young man?”
Chloe smiles, shaking her head at his silliness—at least until the baby kicks in response to the question.
Lucifer looks up at her, triumphant. “I think we have a winner, Detective.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I guess we do.” She tugs Lucifer back up to eye level and kisses him to seal the deal. Then promptly yawns—it’s still the middle of the night, after all. She pushes a curl off his forehead and back in place. “Think you can get back to sleep?”
Distress briefly flickers in his eyes, but he glances down at her belly and it’s replaced by contentment. “With any luck, yes.” He kisses her nose, then his fingers which he presses to her belly. “Goodnight, Chloe.” And in a softer voice, “Goodnight, Lucas.”
Chloe is smiling when she falls asleep.
When Lucifer isn’t in bed with her the next morning, Chloe sighs. Usually after a bad dream, if he can’t get back to sleep, he’ll spend whatever is left of the night on the balcony, then spend the morning brooding over whatever he dreamt, and it can be...difficult to break him out of it. And considering how bad last night was, even with how it ended before they went back to sleep...well. Chloe isn’t expecting a good start to their Saturday morning.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Chloe watches her hand rub circles over her belly. “I think it’s going to be a long morning, Lucas...” Lucas kicks her bladder in response, reminding her to empty it. “Thank you for your resounding support, son.”
After taking care of business, Chloe heads out into the penthouse in search of her fiancé. This is Trixie’s weekend with her father, so it’s just Chloe, Lucifer, and Teivel, who is sitting at the doorway of the kitchen with his head tilted in what looks to be a puppy version of bemusement. Chloe can hear faint whistling and follows the sound and the scent of cooking breakfast. Passing the Hellhound, she gives him a head scratch and his tongue lolls out in a doggy grin.
Teivel is now the size of a fully grown dalmatian, still black, fluffy, and puppy-like. Thankfully, there has yet to be a situation where he’s had to defend them from enemies, but he’s become a member of the family they’ve all gotten attached to—no matter how Lucifer tries to deny it. The hound trots behind Chloe into the kitchen where she finds Lucifer, indeed, whistling quietly as he cooks, shaking his hips in a dance.
She raises an eyebrow. Not that it isn’t a relief after last night; it just isn’t what she expected. “Good morning.”
Lucifer spins around with a huge grin on his face. ”Well, good morning, Detective,” he says cheerfully. “I do hope you slept well?”
Ah. He’s going to pretend last night didn’t happen. She’s on the fence about pressing the matter, if for no other reason than to simply make sure he really is okay and not bottling something up.
“I did. How about you? Did you get back to sleep?” She joins him at the stove, hand on his bare lower back; he’s only wearing black silk sleep pants.
Something flashes in his eyes too quickly for her to identify
. “I did, yes,” he confirms lightly. “Once more, I do apologize for disturbing your rest last night, darling. It certainly was not my intention.”
“And I told you, you don’t have to apologize. I’m glad I woke up so I could wake you up. You’d do the same for me, and you wouldn’t accept my apologies either,” she says a bit challengingly.
Lucifer deflates slightly, not bothering to deny it, because they both know it to be true—and he has woken her from nightmares, about Cain and rogue zealot priests.
“You seem to be feeling better now, though?”
He smiles softly, his free hand reaching to brush against her belly before he leans in to kiss her good morning. “I am,” he says truthfully. “And how could I not be? After all, our son has his full name. Good morning to you, too, Lucas.”
Chloe feels a soft kick in response to Lucifer’s voice. “I think he likes it...”
“Well, of course he does, he’s named after the brightest angel of them all,” he brags shamelessly. Not that Chloe can argue. Then again, she’s met exactly two angels and Amenadiel is far from her favorite. “I do hope you’re hungry, love. I have your favorite french toast, eggs, bacon, and fresh lemon cinnamon rolls baking in the oven. Oh, and allow me to prepare your coffee...”
Chloe blinks at the announcement of the feast for the two of them. Well, three counting Lucas. “That’s...a lot of food, Lucifer. How long have you been awake?”
“A few hours,” he says dismissively, expertly crafting her latte. “Oh, and I got a text message from your mother regarding Thanksgiving—she sends her apologies that she will be unable to attend.”
And now she’s annoyed.
“Why did she text you but not me?” She scoffs, grabbing her phone charging on the kitchen counter to check her messages—nope, nothing from her mother. “Unbelievable...”
Lucifer grimaces in apology. “You still wish to hold the feast here, yes?”
“Is that okay?”
Chloe has hosted Thanksgiving dinner since Trixie was three years old, and while most of them have ended with her and Dan arguing, the last couple have been enjoyable—she and Dan got along, and Maze, Ella, and Linda were at the last one. She’d invited Lucifer on a whim, but he’d declined. Something about stuffing something else elsewhere. Chloe had wished she hadn’t asked.
“Yes, of course, you know I enjoy a good party.”
“Okay, but this isn’t going to be like one of your regular parties, Lucifer; it’s friends and family having dinner.”
“Nevertheless...” He won’t be deterred. “I can’t say I’ve ever participated in a proper Thanksgiving dinner. Well, there was that one with the pilgrims, but that was a bit of a catastrophe towards the end.”
Chloe stares. “The pil... Wait, are you saying you attended the first Thanksgiving?”
Lucifer tilts his head in thought. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
It’s times like this Chloe wonders when her existential crisis is going to really hit. She’s had mini-meltdowns over some things, but she’s engaged to marry a man who was at the first frigging Thanksgiving.
“Riiight...” she says slowly, accepting the mug of latte that she suddenly wishes she could add a shot of whiskey to. Lucifer redirects her to sit at the island where Teivel immediately comes over to lean against her leg as though comforting her through Lucifer’s...Luciferness.
“Anyway, this year, it sounds like Dan and Charlotte are coming with Charlotte’s two kids. Plus, Trixie, of course. Ella, Linda, Amenadiel, and Emily. I invited Maze and Eve, but I haven’t heard back.” She sips her latte, then tilts her head, considering. “You know, it’s probably best my mom isn’t coming, with that group in attendance.”
Lucifer snorts a laugh. “She’d probably think it all a bit of fun dinner theater,” he comments. “I do wonder, though, how she would react if her grandson sprouts wings in front of her in a couple of years.”
Chloe chokes on her coffee. “I hadn’t...thought about that,” she coughs, waving Lucifer away when he worriedly takes a step towards her. “She has no idea you’re the Devil—or that I’m basically an angel with wings. Or that I got a letter from Dad for my birthday.”
Her mom is completely out of the loop, and Chloe has been fine with that, but Lucifer has a good point: Their son is going to be at least half-angel, which means there is a high probability that he will sprout wings at some point. And it would be just Chloe’s luck for it to happen right in front of her mother, who is prone to overreaction to even the smallest of things. To find out her future son-in-law is the Devil, her daughter is a Miracle turned angel, her granddaughter can read souls, and her grandson is an angel...Penelope would lose her damn mind.
“Let’s, um, cross that bridge when we get to it...” she says with wide, not quite panicked eyes.
Breakfast is decadent, to say the least. But she’s been craving sweet things so far during her pregnancy, nothing too outrageous. She does have to agree with Lucifer about chips (“crisps, Detective...”) and chocolate, though. Lucifer has been indulging her quite a bit, cooking or baking, or stopping off at his favorite bakery when he’s out. Trixie has been thrilled, since more often than not, there’s chocolate cake in the house.
“So good,” Chloe moans unabashedly as she bites into her cinnamon roll.
Lucifer is smirking beside her. “Hmm, say that again, darling, with just a touch more breathiness—reminds me of last night...” Last night, when he had her against the piano, then in bed when she rode him into oblivion.
“Down boy,” she says dryly, hiding a smile.
He leans over, pressing a kiss to her neck. “That’s not what you said last night, Detective,” he hums against her skin, making her shiver. “Cold, darling?” The bastard is smirking again.
After breakfast, Chloe announces she’s going to take a shower, to which Lucifer invites himself (“To scrub your back, Detective!”), and ends predictably pleasurably. She seriously wonders if the Lux water pressure is even legal in California, but it feels too good to care. Lucifer dresses quickly afterwards and heads out to play piano.
Chloe lingers in the wardrobe room a little longer, staring at her section and wondering how much longer it will be before she’ll have to switch from her regular clothes to maternity wear. She’s already wearing stretchier jeans, and her usually loose shirts are starting to get a bit...snug.
When she hears a loud crash that sounds like shattering glass, her wings unfurl instinctively and wrap around her. She stares towards the commotion, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Her brain finally kicks back into gear when she hears Teivel barking and snarling threateningly, and she rushes to the bedroom. Habit has her reaching for her service weapon; instinct tells her to go for her short sword. She follows her instinct, slipping the smaller demon blade Maze gave her into her waistband.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Remiel!” Lucifer growls in the main room. “Have you any idea how much those windows cost me?”
Remiel.
The name rings a bell. It clicks, and Chloe has a memory of Lucifer telling her about his huntress sister who came to Earth several months back, because she’d “sensed a new celestial” here. At the time, Chloe had only just gotten her wings and Linda was still pregnant with Emily, and they didn’t know which “new celestial” the other angel had sensed; as it turned out, it was the baby. Amenadiel had fought (and won) a literal custody battle in order to raise his child on Earth rather than in the Silver City. And earned his wings back in the process.
Fuck... Is that why she’s here now? To take Chloe and Lucifer’s baby to be raised in Heaven amongst the angels? Chloe’s lip curls into a snarl as she grips her sword—that is not happening. She creeps towards the edge of the wall and peeks around. There, by the now shattered floor to ceiling doors leading to the balcony is a woman wearing some kind of furs and armor, and carrying a spear. Her wings are wide and brown, a sort of camouflage pattern in the feathers, her expression tough and determined.
Lucifer stands at the edge of the bar, sipping from a glass of whiskey, his posture almost casual and unbothered if one doesn’t know him well enough to see the tense line of his shoulders and the steel in his eyes. Teivel is near the piano, his glamour long gone now. He's dark and skinless, skeletal, and his eyes are burning the same shade of Hellfire red as Lucifer’s when he’s angry. Where his fur should be is a smoke-like appearance rising from his body.
Lucifer must sense Chloe’s presence: His eyes dart towards her so quickly that she wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t looking right at him and didn’t know him so well.
Don’t, Chloe, he warns firmly. Allow me to handle this.
She isn’t taking my baby.
No. She most certainly is not. But if this is to turn into a fight, I do not want you involved, sword or no sword. Stay. Back.
Not once during their partnership has Lucifer given her a command like that. Normally, she might bristle and get defensive, and say she can handle herself, but she falters at his tone of voice, and the reminder that even if she is invulnerable, angels can hurt other angels. She stays back. For now.
“You know why I’m here, brother.” Remiel spats the last word as if it’s a derogatory term; perhaps when directed at Lucifer, it is. “The creature you’ve brought into existence...it does not belong on Earth, and you know it.”
Lucifer lifts an eyebrow, his eyes flashing at how she references their son. “Oh, do I, now?” he says, feigning surprise. “And here I was believing that my son,” his eyes possessively flash Hellfire red, “should be raised by his parents.”
Remiel scoffs a bitter laugh. “As though you could be a proper father to any offspring.”
“Far better than ours ever was, I’ll tell you that much. At least I’m here,” Lucifer snaps coldly. “Leave, Remiel. This is not a fight you want.”
“I disagree.” She steps forward. Teivel snaps his jaws, saliva dripping from his mouth. He doesn’t try to attack, awaiting Lucifer’s command. “Call off your beast, Lucifer.”
“Why on Earth would I do that? You’ve just broken into my home, uninvited, and are threatening my family.”
“Whichever clueless mortal woman you have fornicated and procreated with is not your family, Lucifer,” Remiel says scathingly. “As if the Devil could ever have a family—not after what he did to his last one.”
Chloe expects Lucifer to snap. Instead, he laughs. “The last one? Oh, right! The family who turned their bloody backs on me, beat me to near catatonia, and cast me into Hell? That family? I hate to break it to you, Remi—oh, who am I kidding, I’m loving this... That is not how family behaves. Family accepts and loves you as you are; defends and protects you in times of need; and never turns their backs on you. Now, does that sound anything like the feathered sods you call family in the Silver City?”
“Enough games, Lucifer! I know you are hiding the woman here; hand her over and there will be no bloodshed.”
“Over my dead body,” Lucifer says coldly, eyes still the color of Hellfire. “Careful, Remiel, the last sibling who threatened me did not come out well in the end.”
Remiel snarls. “You killed your own brother in cold blood. How do you live with yourself?”
“With the knowledge that I protected the ones I love from a madman who sought to destroy them,” he says without hesitation. “You don’t know the full story; do not speak of that which you do not understand.”
“I understand enough. You murdered Uriel, corrupted Amenadiel into copulating with a human woman and producing a half-angel offspring.” Lucifer scoffs in offense at the accusation. “And now, you’ve created one of your own. I allowed Amenadiel to keep his spawn, because at least he won’t turn it against the Silver City.”
“You think I give a damn about the Silver City?” Lucifer snarls, slamming down his glass onto the bar top. “My son has nothing to do with that place or any of you, Remiel. He will be raised here with myself and his mother, not turned into one of Daddy’s Little Soldiers. Go home, Remi. As I said—” Lucifer’s eyes switch from Hellfire to Lightbringer in a literal blink of his eyes. “—you do not want this fight.”
A wave of fear washes over Remiel before she pushes it away and juts out her chin defiantly. “Your little Hell tricks don’t work on me, Satan.”
Now, Chloe teasingly calls Lucifer “Satan” on occasion, but the way Remiel spits it has her hackles up and her wings bristling into blades. Nobody disparages her partner—not on her watch. “He said leave,” she growls, stepping into view and raising her sword.
A mix of irritation and fear flickers through Lucifer’s eyes at the sight of her. His wings join the fray next. Damn it, Chloe. I was handling this.
Remiel stares at her in bemusement. “What are you?” she growls.
“Detective Chloe Decker, LAPD,” she states fiercely. “And your worst fucking nightmare if you don’t leave.”
Lucifer hisses something at Teivel, and the hound immediately moves to guard Chloe. “You cannot win this, Remiel. If you think for one moment I will allow you to harm her and take our son, you’re stupider than you look.”
Remiel’s lip curls defiantly and her wrist twists. Chloe’s heart races at the brief flash of something highly-polished, then the sight of the spear coming right at her. She hears Lucifer’s agonized shout. Her wings act on pure instinct: Chloe knows there is no time to twist out of the way, but with a flap of her feathers, she’s on the other side of the penthouse, near the elevator. She stares at the spot she was just standing and sees the very tips of a few of her blue feathers fluttering lazily to the ground.
Lucifer roars.
The bottles on the whiskey shelf shake and some fall to the floor, glass shattering. A high-pitched ringing and white light slowly begins to fill the penthouse from nowhere. Chloe’s wings wrap around her, protecting her. Somewhere, she hears Teivel yelp, whine, and retreat. The walls shake like an earthquake and Chloe braces herself against a wall.
When it’s all over, Chloe’s wings slowly part and she has to blink several times to readjust her vision from the brightness of the light. Remiel is gone. There’s no pile of ash on the floor, so she wasn’t smited; she must have fled right at the beginning.
Lucifer stands exactly where he was, staring where Remiel had been and breathing heavily. His expression is raw, thunderous fury—even more so than he looked with Cain. The primary feathers of his wings are still sharpened for battle. For the first time in their partnership, for the first time since Chloe learned he’s the Devil, she hesitates to approach him. He’ll never harm her, but he doesn’t look like himself right now; he looks as though anybody who comes near him will be reflexively attacked with how amped up and tense his muscles are.
“Lucifer?” she calls softly, hoping to bring him back. “Hey...it’s over, she’s gone.”
Just as a predator would, his head slowly turns towards her like she’s next, but Chloe stands her ground. “What the hell were you thinking?” he growls, his voice shaking with fear and wrath. “I told you to stay back. To allow me to handle it. She could have killed you and our son! You are not invulnerable to celestial weapons!”
This is the first time Lucifer has ever turned his anger on her. And what’s worse, she likely deserves it. Nevertheless, Chloe Decker will never be the type to allow somebody else to fight her battles for her, celestial or otherwise.
“But she didn’t,” she says, agitated by the entire situation. And they’d been having such a nice day. “Lucifer, I am fine!”
“She clipped your bloody wings, Detective! What if you hadn’t gotten out of the way, hmm?” His voice cracks with raw grief. “Do you not understand? I cannot lose either of you.”
Fuck... His nightmare...
She wants to remind him that she's immortal, that she would resurrect—but can the same be said about their son? Oh... Chloe immediately deflates, her wings drooping down her back to the floor. What had she nearly done?
“And now the Silver City will be aware not only of Lucas’s existence, but your own as well, a secret we have, to this point, kept well hidden.”
He’s right. Oh, she screwed up today. But it infuriated her to hear how Remiel spoke to him—his sister—and her threats of taking their son... What was she even going to do, cut him out of her belly? He isn’t even at full-term, yet!
She didn’t want to take Lucas to the Silver City; she wanted to kill him...
A strangled sob escapes Chloe’s throat as she looks helplessly at Lucifer. Almost instantly, his fury fades to compassion and remorse, and in the next moment, he’s there in front of her, holding her close with her head cradled to his chest.
“It’s all right, darling,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I shouted...I was scared, Chloe. Losing either of you...the Urchin...it’s my worst fear.”
And she fucking knows that, too, yet she still stepped into a hostile situation. Sure, she knows how to use her sword, but what was she even going to do up against an angel who has been fighting hand to hand combat since the dawn of time?
“Shh, it’s all right, love,” he whispers, petting her hair and rocking her back and forth. Maybe it’s the hormones, or the adrenaline, or the realization of what could have just happened, but Chloe is a sobbing mess at the moment. “You’re safe, you both are, I’ve got you...”
“What if she comes back?”
“She won’t,” he says, his voice hard. “Not if she knows what’s good for her. She didn’t truly believe I have my powers again, but now, she’s seen for herself. Anybody in the Silver City foolish enough to challenge the Lightbringer will meet the same wrath. As I said, I will protect my family.”
Something bumps against Chloe’s leg, she looks down to find Teivel looking up at her, the same promise in the hound’s eyes. “You’re a good boy, Teivel,” she says, reaching down to pet him.
“Yes,” Lucifer sighs, relieved. “He did quite well. If I’d not used my powers, the moment that spear was thrown, he would have attacked. As it is, creatures of Hell do not fare well with pure celestial light.”
Chloe looks the hound over, checking for injuries. “But he’s okay?”
“He’s fine,” Lucifer promises soothingly. “He retreated when it came to be too much, shortly before Remiel fled.” He looks down at Chloe, faint amusement in his eyes. “‘Your worst fucking nightmare’, was it?”
Chloe snorts a laugh. “Yeah, well,” she presses a hand to her belly, getting a kick in return—a reassurance, “I would have been if she’d tried to hurt our son.”
“I’ve no doubt,” he says, eyes shining with pride. “Just...please, Chloe...if I ask you to stay back, do so next time? I know you can handle yourself, but whilst you’re carrying our child, I’d rather you not take unnecessary risks.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Says the King of Unnecessary Risks,” she mutters. She looks around at the mess in the penthouse—from the shattered balcony doors to the wall of scotch that’s been emptied by at least a quarter of its contents. “We should get this cleaned up.”
Lucifer holds up a hand. “I’ve a cleaning crew to do that, and I can call in a favor to get the doors replaced. The damn things were open, she could have just walked through, but no...she had to go for the most dramatic entrance possible.”
“Again, says the King of Dramatic.”
He smirks, reluctantly releasing her from his embrace. “In the meantime, I need to have a word with my brother. Perhaps we could take a daytrip to go see our niece whilst this is all taken care of?”
Her heart warms at the casual way he says our niece, even though, technically, Chloe has no relation to the half-angel baby—at least, not yet. “Will that be enough time? Should we sleep at one of your other properties for the night?” she asks skeptically.
“Trust me, darling, it shall be done.”
“Thus speaketh the Devil.”
While Chloe finishes getting ready, Lucifer texts Amenadiel to warn him and Linda of their impending arrival. She finds him standing in the spot where she’d been when Remiel threw the spear, holding something in his hand.
“Lucifer?”
He holds up the blue feather tips—her feathers. “I’d like to have a look at your wings before we go, if you wouldn’t mind, Detective,” he says evenly, carefully placing the feathers into his pocket.
Chloe wants to tell him that she’s fine, that she couldn’t even feel the spear shave the feathers off, but she knows he won’t let it go until he’s seen for himself. Turning around, she unfurls her wings for his perusal, and shivers lightly when she feels his fingers tenderly brush through the feathers of her left one, the spots where she’s likely lost the tips.
He takes a slow, deliberate breath through his nose, calming himself so he doesn’t go haring after Remiel, wherever she’s fled, most likely.
“Will they grow back?” she asks softly.
“The affected feathers will have to be removed, but yes, they will grow back.”
Pulling her wings close to her spine, Chloe turns around. “What I don’t understand is how I got from one side of the room to the other...”
Lucifer gives her a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “As I’ve said before, your wings...they’re very intuitive, I suppose is the best word. You’ve noticed that they respond to your emotions, how they knew how to fly before you did when you were first learning? It’s the same concept here; they knew you were in danger, so they removed you from that danger.” His eyes are suddenly bright. “It could have been so much worse, Chloe.”
Guilt licks at her for not thinking before stepping into Remiel’s view, for scaring Lucifer the way she did. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “No, I am sorry. I know I frightened you with my anger.”
And oh, she would love to deny that one. Because no matter how angry Lucifer has been in the past, she’s never once hesitated to approach him; was never once afraid of him. And even today, she knew he was more afraid than truly angry with her, but she sometimes forgets that he isn’t just her goofy, impulsive partner. He's the Devil, the Lightbringer...an ancient, powerful being who could level the world if the mood struck him wrong. Not that she believes he ever would, just that he could.
“I think...I was more afraid for you,” she says quietly.
He looks bemused. “For me?”
She nods. “I’ve never seen you that angry, and you tend to do things in anger sometimes that you later regret, and in that moment...yeah, I was afraid for you.”
“I would never hurt you, Chloe,” he says, suddenly stricken and wounded.
“No, I know that,” she says hastily. “Lucifer, I know that. Remiel, on the other hand...”
His expression hardens. “Yes, well, if she hadn’t fled when she had, she’d have deserved what she’d gotten. And I wouldn’t have regretted it.”
Lucifer Morningstar never lies—except to himself. He can tell himself that he wouldn’t have regretted smiting his own sister, but Chloe knows better. She thinks about the night he told her about Uriel, how even after months, his grief and guilt were still so raw that he broke down in her arms for close to ten minutes.
Lucifer may not regret or feel guilt for what he did to Cain, or even to Father Kinley—the way he’d melted the priest’s mind to the point he’s currently a drooling mess in a psychiatric hospital and will spend the rest of his life there. But for as much as he claims to not care about his siblings, the ones who abandoned him in his time of need, and for eons afterwards, it would have destroyed him if he’d killed another of them. Regardless of their intentions to harm Chloe.
On their way out the door, Lucifer makes a detour to retrieve Remiel’s spear, the one that shaved off Chloe’s feathers and was abandoned in the angel’s haste to flee the Lightbringer’s wrath. Chloe studies it in the elevator on the way to the parking garage—a highly-polished wood handle from a tree she doesn’t recognize and double-headed tips with shiny, silver metal buffed to a mirror finish, it looks sharp enough to shatter rocks. Yeah, that could have done some damage to Chloe...
“Not my favorite weapon to train with in the Silver City,” Lucifer says musingly, “but I’ll say this for Remiel: she could shave the hairs off a pig’s arse with this thing.”
Chloe can’t hold back a snort of laughter at his phrasing. He shoots her a wink. “Is she going to come back for this, then?”
“I’d like to see her try,” he says, menace and threat evident in his voice.
When they arrive at Linda’s, the therapist looks surprised to see them; apparently, Amenadiel didn’t mention they were coming over. Still, Linda gladly welcomes them inside, giving Lucifer an odd look when she sees him carrying the spear.
“Can I get either of you something to drink? Chloe, I’ve got some amazing rooibos tea I think you’d enjoy,” Linda offers.
“Yeah, that would be lovely, Linda, thank you.”
Amenadiel comes from one of the back rooms carrying his daughter, all smiles. At least until Lucifer drops the spear at his feet without a word of explanation. The smile slowly drops from the eldest angel’s face as he stares in dawning horror at the spear, then slowly looks up at Lucifer, his expression suddenly tight with accusation.
“What did you do?”
“I swear, the next bloody person who blames me for the actions of others...” Lucifer grumbles, tugging the bottom of his jacket. “Your little mini-me paid Chloe and I a visit this morning. Not only did she threaten our son, she nearly speared the Detective—which I suppose in a different context would be much sexier,” he adds absently, as though his mind can’t resist the innuendo. He reaches into his pocket and removes the tips of Chloe’s feathers carefully, showing them to Amenadiel. “And dear Remi clipped Chloe’s feathers.”
Relief washes over Amenadiel’s expression. “She missed on purpose.” He laughs a little. “Of course she did!”
“No, she most certainly did not,” Lucifer snaps in correction. “If Chloe’s wings hadn’t acted on pure instinct, she and our son would be a Detec-ebob.” The others look at him blankly. He rolls his eyes in impatient irritation that they aren’t following his puns. “Detective...kebob. Low hanging fruit there, people, come on!”
Chloe and Linda roll their eyes, both at the pun and his tendency to get ruder the more stressed he becomes.
“Where is Remi now?” Amenadiel asks with trepidation.
“After I nearly roasted her for trying to kill my family, you mean?” Lucifer says pointedly. “I’d expect she tucked tail and flew back to the Silver City.”
Amenadiel looks angry now. “You were going to smite her?”
Lucifer is in no way intimidated. “Oh, you’re damn right I was, brother,” he growls. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing if she hadn’t backed off when she came for your child!”
“I’m sorry, what?” They all turn to Linda, who’s wide-eyed and open-mouthed, looking between the two angels. “What is he talking about, she came after our child?”
One of Amenadiel’s hands strokes the back of his own head as he clearly tries to think of an explanation. Linda looks expectantly to Lucifer, who looks positively gleeful that his brother is in trouble.
“Oh, yes, you see, Doctor, our sister Remiel sensed that you and Amenadiel created a half-angel spawn, and in her ‘all things angelic belong in Heaven’ mindset, came to Earth to retrieve said half-angel spawn. Amenadiel fought her—and managed to win—a literal custody battle, winning you the right to raise your own child here on Earth.”
If looks could kill, the Fury of God would be dead ten times over. Linda marches over to him. “Give me my baby,” she says coldly. He hands her over wordlessly. “We’ll discuss this later. Chloe, tea?”
“Um, sure...” Chloe says, glancing at Lucifer to make sure he’s okay and won’t freak out if she’s out of his sight. Which he has a tendency to do after something happens—or almost happens—to her that he thinks he should have prevented.
You good here?
He gives her a short nod and a small but genuine smile, so Chloe trails after Linda to the kitchen, leaving the angels to talk in the living room.
“Are you all right?” Linda asks worriedly, filling a tea kettle with water and placing it on the stove. “Your wings?”
Chloe nods, leaning against the counter nearby and giving the baby in Linda’s arms one of her fingers when a little hand reaches out towards her curiously. She smiles at how Emily immediately grips her finger with surprising strength at only a couple months old. “Yeah, I’m okay. The adrenaline wore off on the drive over, now I'm just tired, but since the penthouse looks like a warzone...”
“She wanted to steal your baby?” Linda asks in a low voice.
Chloe swallows, blinking back tears. “That’s what she said, but since he isn’t even full-term yet, I don’t know exactly what her intentions were.” She suspects, though, and that is more than enough. “Lucifer asked me to let him handle it, but...” She shakes her head. “I don’t know. The things she was saying to him...the threats...I just...reacted.” She lets out a watery laugh. “I guess Lucifer is rubbing off on me, huh?”
Linda smiles understandingly, reaching out to press Chloe’s hand with her free one. “Protective mama bear instincts are a real thing, sweetie,” she says knowingly. “Which I know you know. Of course, you were going to defend your family. You’re all fine, and that’s what matters.”
Chloe nods her agreement, hastily wiping beneath her eyes. “I mean, what was I even going to do against a full-fledged angel, Linda? I’ve gotten better with the short sword lessons with Maze, but...”
“I bet you could’ve taken her,” Linda says, smirking. “Angels tend to underestimate humans—or former humans, in your case.” She jerks her head towards the living room, rubbing her baby’s back. “Those two especially. I mean, you’d think all their time around humans would teach them, but nope.”
The Detective snorts a laugh. “You didn’t know Remiel came for...” She nods at the baby.
“Nope,” Linda says, popping the p as she reaches into a cupboard for an aluminum tin of tea bags. “You’d think the father of my child would have mentioned it at some point. Be glad Lucifer has started actually telling you things now.”
“Oh, I am,” Chloe agrees fervently.
“I mean, are the angels in Heaven even equipped to raise one half-human baby, let alone two?” Linda continues, nodding at Chloe’s pregnant belly. “They were never babies themselves; what did they think they were going to do?”
“I would imagine Remiel was the only one interested in the children, Doctor,” Lucifer’s voice says from the kitchen door. The two women startle and turn towards the Devil. “Amenadiel claims she was an outlier, believing she was doing what dear old Dad wanted. Most of the angels don’t care enough about Earth or humans to bother, even with half-angel babies thrown in the mix.”
Linda glances behind him. “Speaking of, where is Amenadiel?”
“Popped up to the Silver City to have a chat with his little clone,” he says coolly, leaning the spear he’s still carrying around against the island. “And to pass on a message from me that the next time she threatens my family, I won’t be as merciful.”
Chloe raises an eyebrow. That was merciful? Then again, his light gradually ramped up rather than bursting to smiting-level immediately, so perhaps Lucifer was thinking clearly enough to give his sister a warning, even through his raw fury.
“I didn’t say, Linda, sorry for just springing a surprise visit on you. I hope you weren’t busy.”
“Only with this little one,” Linda says, cooing at her daughter with a smitten smile. “And really, outside adult contact of any kind is wonderful.”
“Glad to hear it, because the penthouse is trashed, and the Detective and I are currently seeking sanctuary. Though I had expected my brother to give you some forewarning. Of course, I’d also expected he’d tell you about Remiel, so perhaps I overestimated his propensity for sharing.” Lucifer leans near Chloe, retrieving his flask from his jacket.
Linda raises an eyebrow. “You and me, both. Here.” She unceremoniously plops baby Emily into her unsuspecting uncle’s arms. Lucifer quickly sets down his flask so as to not drop the child, looking incredulously at his therapist while Chloe tries not to laugh at his expression. “Hold your niece so I can make your fiancée some tea. Speaking of...I haven’t seen the ring yet!”
The three of them settle around the dining table, the women with cups of tea—which is as amazing as Linda claimed—and the Devil with his flask and a baby in his arms. Emily looks fascinated by Lucifer, staring up at him with big brown eyes and continuously running a hand across the soft, expensive material of his shirt, enjoying the feel of it under her little palm, and gripping his jacket lapel with the other. Chloe expects him to complain about the baby’s “sticky hands” all over his Prada, or to hand her back to Linda at the earliest opportunity, but he does neither. He holds her like he’s been holding babies all his life, and she suddenly cannot wait until she can see him holding their son.
Amenadiel returns a couple hours later looking harried and frazzled. “Well, the good news is, I was right, and Remiel is the only one who cares about raising the children in Heaven. Everybody else thinks she was foolish and shortsighted, because none of them want to be responsible for, and I quote, ‘smelly, wailing, half-breed brats’ for the rest of time,” he says tiredly, sinking down at the table.
Lucifer passes Emily over to her father, raising an eyebrow. “And the bad news?”
The elder angel says nothing, focusing instead on the baby angel in his arms until he sighs. “The bad news is, they are interested in knowing how a human woman could just...transform into an angel,” he says reluctantly. Lucifer curses, but his brother isn’t finished. “One of our siblings in particular.”
The Devil must read something in Amenadiel’s hesitance, because he suddenly goes very still, like a statue. “Which sibling?” he asks coldly, as though he already knows the answer. Amenadiel presses his lips together, clearly not wanting to answer the question. “Amenadiel,” Lucifer says, his tone sharper. Chloe reaches over and places her hand on his thigh. He laces their fingers together, but doesn’t take his eyes off his brother. “Which. sibling?”
Amenadiel practically flinches in preparation, and cold dread settles in Chloe’s belly, hoping the angel is overreacting. “Michael.”
Lucifer goes deathly pale almost instantly and the grip he now has on Chloe’s fingers is near painful, but he doesn’t say a word. When his eyes flash red, his lip curls into a snarl, and a low, dangerous growl emanates from his chest, Chloe knows.
Amenadiel was not overreacting.
Notes:
I will be participating in Lucitober this year starting next week. I've got a handful of one-shots and a short story to post for you guys, so I hope you'll check them out! Thank you as always for reading, and drop a comment to let me know what you think so far!
Chapter 5: Happy Devils-giving
Chapter Text
In the weeks that followed Remiel’s “visit” and the announcement that the archangel Michael may or may not be taking a special interest in Chloe’s angelic transformation, Chloe is permitted exactly nowhere outside the penthouse on her own. No matter how many times she snaps at Lucifer for following her into the women’s restroom at the precinct, or asking him to just give her a bit of time to herself, he is far from deterred, stubbornly ignoring her anytime she admonishes him.
And look, she gets it, he’s scared that something is going to happen to her. It wouldn’t be the first, or even the second time, since they’ve been together that they let their guard down with an enemy who got their hands on Chloe. She also gets that Michael is a bigger threat than Cain and Kinley put together—much more powerful for one; and for another, likes to pretend to be Lucifer. But the thing about the latter is that Chloe would know her partner anywhere, identical twin or no, and not just from his physical attributes; they have a connection now, one that goes far beyond anything either of them has experienced, and it would only take one little prayer to prove Michael is a lying bastard. She can also sense when Lucifer is nearby, and vice versa; she would know if he’s in the room or not without having to get anywhere near her partner’s twin, not that she has any interest in that.
While those reminders did set Lucifer at ease somewhat, Chloe still has an escort everywhere she goes.
She doesn’t know much about Lucifer’s twin brother—she knows they’re identical apart from their wings (Lucifer’s are white; MIchael’s are black as night) and that Michael is six and a half minutes older. She knows that if she is confronted by the angel, she is to run in the opposite direction, and even promised Lucifer on their first date that she would. And she knows that although they got along when they were very young, Michael is the one who dragged Lucifer through the streets of the Silver City before their father after his “rebellion”, and later, physically threw him over the edge of Heaven. Lastly, she knows that Lucifer hates his twin almost as much as he hates his father. These things have made Chloe hate Michael, too, and quite glad that the Hell-forged bullets Lucifer made for her on his trip to Hell work on angels.
There’s also the concern of the prophecy. The real prophecy, made by Uriel and dropped into human hands by Michael who knows how long ago. Which means, Michael has always known someone like Chloe is a possibility and he’s just been waiting for the day that it happens. She thinks that’s what Lucifer is most concerned about; that his brother has been waiting and watching for the day that Chloe comes into her angelic-ness so he can rip it away from Lucifer. She hasn’t been brave enough to ask, not wanting to risk Lucifer flying off the handle and going after his twin. Remiel was bad enough.
The penthouse, as Lucifer promised, was back in order by the time they arrived home from Linda and Amenadiel’s that night. The glass and liquor on the floor was cleaned up, and the balcony doors were replaced. Chloe decided not to ask what kind of favors were owed to get glaziers to install custom glass doors on a Saturday. The only thing that wasn’t back to normal immediately was the booze wall; Lucifer took care of that a few days later when Lux’s liquor shipment came in.
Currently, though, her biggest concern isn’t a little too much Heavenly attention or even her diabolic shadow everywhere she goes: Thanksgiving is coming and she’d been idiot enough to volunteer to host a dinner party at the penthouse for her friends and family at five-and-a-half-months pregnant. Thankfully, Lucifer loves to cook and to bake, and more than willingly agreed to help out.
“I simply assumed I would be assisting you, darling,” he’d said, bemused, when she’d asked.
He’d offered flat out to have the entire thing catered by the best chefs in the city, but Chloe turned that down. She doesn’t get many chances to do it, but she does enjoy cooking on occasion, even if she isn’t the best at it. Lucifer, on the other hand, could open his own Michelin-starred restaurant.
“Nonsense,” he scoffed when she teasingly brought it up. “My cooking talents are solely for my family’s enjoyment. Why would I wish to feed snobby humans who wouldn’t know good taste if it bit them on the arse?”
He’s spent the last three days reading different food blogs to “liven up” Chloe’s traditional Thanksgiving menu, which she’s surprisingly fine with. It’s his first holiday (well, since the very first one, which she’s still wrapping her mind around), and if he wants to incorporate new family traditions, she isn’t going to stop him. She did have to remind him that there would be children present, two of whom she doesn’t know at all, and kids can be picky little shits on occasion, so don’t go overboard with the fancy-schmancy. He hadn’t even complained when Trixie announced they needed to decorate the penthouse for Thanksgiving (and again for Christmas next month), allowing her to pick out whatever she liked—Chloe had been the one to veto a lot of things.
So, on Thanksgiving morning, Chloe slips on her robe after emptying the bladder that her unborn son spent all night using as an alternating trampoline and soccer ball. Stepping down the bedroom stairs, she can’t hold back a smile as she sees the fall-colored flowers, table runners, and other decorations scattered around the penthouse on her way to the kitchen. Lucifer is already awake and making them a small breakfast before they start cooking for the day ahead with Teivel curled at his feet. Apparently, it’s too early for the Hellhound; he barely lifts his head to acknowledge Chloe’s arrival.
“Morning,” she yawns, running a hand through her messy hair.
Lucifer looks at her like she just came off the runway. “Good morning, Detective. You’re up earlier than expected.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a lot to do if we want to serve Thanksgiving dinner for twelve people by three o’clock,” she says, grimacing and once again wondering what she was thinking. At least her mother won’t be here to criticize this year...
He gives her a comforting smile. “All will be fine, darling, try not to stress; it isn’t good for you or for Lucas,” he reminds her gently. “Speaking of, you spent quite some time tossing and turning last night. Was he causing trouble for you?”
She snorts a laugh. “He’s your son, of course he was.” Rather than be offended by her tone, Lucifer beams, just as he does anytime she refers to Lucas as his son. Or calls attention to himself being a troublemaker. “Babies don’t really understand that internal organs aren’t meant to be kicked and punched. Or when it’s bedtime.”
Lucifer winces sympathetically, then points a stern finger at her belly. “Be kind to your mum, Lucas, she needs her rest.”
Lucas kicks her in response. “I think he’s already got the backtalk down,” she says dryly, correcting herself from saying “rebellion”.
Chuckling, Lucifer shoos her away from the stove after greeting them both properly with a kiss (to the lips for Chloe; to the belly for Lucas), and retrieves her coffee, which she’s more grateful for today than usual. After breakfast, which Trixie slept through, since she doesn’t have to get up for school today, they begin prepping for dinner that’s still several hours away.
Chloe spends most of the time preparing the twenty-five pound turkey doubled over laughing at the innuendos and puns coming from her partner, which only encourages him, of course. So he doubles down as he prepares the challah bread stuffing recipe he found on one of his food blogs and couldn’t stop obsessing over. Trixie wanders in at some point, raises an eyebrow at her mother laughing like a demented witch on crack, shakes her head, and leaves the kitchen, Teivel trotting out behind her.
One of the best things about Lucifer’s kitchen is the double ovens, meaning they can cook the turkey and a lot of the side dishes at the same time, which turns out to be their saving grace. Between the side dishes and multiple desserts, the kitchen counters are loaded with items beside a carefully organized schedule of when to put them in and for how long in order to have it all ready in time for their guests to start arriving.
Chloe ends up sitting on a stool when her feet and back begin to ache from standing, her wince having caught Lucifer’s attention. “Really, I’m okay,” she argues weakly as he drags the stool over and directs her onto it by the shoulders.
“Yes, yes, I know you are,” he says dismissively, returning to his mac and cheese dish. “I’m simply saving us the time later when you request a massage.”
She raises an eyebrow at him. “Right, like you don’t jump at the chance to put your hands all over me...”
Smirking, Lucifer doesn’t deign to reply to her.
“Can I help?” Trixie asks brightly once she’s woken up enough that her grumpiness has waned.
“Sure, Monkey. You want to mash the potatoes for me?” Trixie nods eagerly. “Wash your hands first before Lucifer has an aneurysm.”
He scoffs in offense. “Well, forgive me for saving us all from food poisoning due to Urchin germs in our supper.”
“I don’t have germs!” Trixie argues heatedly.
“You won’t if you wash your hands,” Lucifer sniffs primly.
Trixie opens her mouth to snap something back, but Chloe intercedes, sending her daughter to the sink and her partner a be nice look. “I swear this is going to be my third kid,” she mutters under her breath as she finishes up with the turkey. “Lucifer, would you put this in the oven, please?” The turkey exceeds the limit she’s allowed to carry.
“Of course, Detective,” he agrees immediately. “Now, you’re done stuffing the turkey, would you like to stuff something else?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. Chloe glances pointedly at her daughter. “I was referring to the deviled eggs. Mind out of the gutter, darling.”
Rolling her eyes and giving him a look to remind him of the two dozen stuffing puns he threw out when she was preparing the turkey, Chloe turns her attention to the eggs, checking on Trixie, who is going to town on mashing the potatoes. “I think they’re dead, Monkey,” she laughs, poking her daughter’s side. “We want them a little bit lumpy, they’re better that way.”
An hour later, with the penthouse kitchen full of teasing and laughter, Chloe nearly misses hearing her phone ring. It’s her mother.
“Hiii, pumpkin! Are you going to let me up through the elevator?” Penelope asks cheerfully.
Chloe goes stone cold. “W-what? I thought you weren’t coming for Thanksgiving, you texted Lucifer and everything.” She’s still a little annoyed about that, actually.
“Change of plans. Milo, our director, surprised us with a break in filming so we could spend the holiday with our families, and I wanted to surprise you!”
Gritting her teeth, Chloe feels her eye twitch in annoyance. Lucifer glances at her in concern; she shakes her head. “Well, a little heads-up would’ve been nice, Mom...”
“Nana’s here?” Trixie asks excitedly. “Cool!”
“Well, I haven’t seen you since before you announced your pregnancy—and your engagement. I thought this would be a fun time to catch up!”
‘Unbelievable,’ Chloe mouths to herself. “I’ll unlock the elevator...”
“See you in a minute, sweetie! Ta!”
“Mama Decker decided to surprise you?” Lucifer guesses, sending her a sympathetic smile.
Chloe presses her lips together to avoid saying anything scathing about her mother in front of Trixie. “Mm-hmm... Guess I’ll be right back...”
This is just like her mother—canceling plans, then showing up out of the blue like she hadn’t canceled at all, and expecting to be accommodated. Sure, it’s easy enough to add another place-setting at the table, and it’s not like her mother is going to out eat everybody else with whatever diet she’s on this month, it’s just...it's the principle of the matter.
Penelope has done things like this all Chloe’s life, but it got worse after her husband was killed. She'd take off for months at a time, barely keeping in touch with her grieving daughter, then show up again at the most inopportune moments. Like her first Christmas living with Dan. They’d planned on a quiet holiday together since his parents were in Mexico, and Dan and Chloe had to work, so they couldn’t join them. They didn’t even plan for any sort of holiday meal; instead, intending to order Chinese from their favorite takeout place.
What happened instead?
Penelope Decker showed up at seven o’clock in the morning, knocking on their door and pulling them both out of a deep sleep. They’d gone to the precinct holiday party the night before and both had hangovers. She’d spent most of the day criticizing the decorations in the apartment—or lack thereof, as they hadn’t really had time to decorate with their schedules. Then, she’d gotten upset that Chloe wasn’t preparing Christmas dinner of ham and all the trimmings, which is what the Decker family had done all Chloe’s life. Somehow, Penelope had dinner catered at the last minute. On Christmas Day. Even though Chloe told her she didn’t want catered dinner, and it turned into a big argument in front of one of LA’s premier chefs. And then, after all of that, Penelope had expected to be invited to stay in Chloe and Dan’s tiny, one-bedroom apartment and got all huffy when Chloe told her they didn’t have room.
It was a nightmare of a day.
Hopefully, today doesn’t turn out the same way. At the very least, Lucifer will have her back, now that he understands his 80s cheesy sci-fi acting crush isn’t as perfect as he believed. If anybody understands overbearing parents, it’s the Devil.
“Oh, Chloe, look at you!” Penelope squeals wearing her red carpet best while Chloe is still in her robe and pajamas. She wraps her arms carefully around her daughter, placing a hand on her growing bump. “You look beautiful, honey—are you getting enough rest, though? You really should treat those bags under your eyes or you’re going to get more wrinkles...”
Chloe grits her teeth. She knows damn well she doesn’t have bags. Or wrinkles. She’s immortal, for crying out loud. “Nice to see you, too, Mom,” she says dryly. “Everyone is in the kitchen.”
Lucifer is in his hosting element the moment Penelope walks into the kitchen. The journey here was spent with her mother gushing over the penthouse—she’s never been here before—and congratulating Chloe on “moving up in society”. As if Chloe living here with Lucifer is solely for his wealth.
Penelope blinks at the sight of Teivel, who trots over when he sees the new arrival. “You have a dog?” she says, surprised and wary.
“Uh-huh!” Trixie confirms brightly. “His name is Teivel and he’s a Hellhound.”
Penelope laughs awkwardly, looking between the hound and Chloe as if waiting for her daughter to correct her granddaughter. Chloe just returns to the counter where Lucifer has set out a mug of tea for her.
“Well, he’s...big...” Penelope says, letting Teivel sniff her hand at Trixie’s urging.
“He’s gonna get a lot bigger!”
Chloe hides her wince in her teacup. She probably should have warned her daughter not to talk about anything celestial- or hell-related in front of Penelope.
“Well, what can I do to help?” Penelope asks eagerly, sipping from the wine Lucifer offered her—even though it’s not even eleven in the morning yet.
Chloe knows better than to give her mother any tasks that will get her hands dirty or chip her nail polish, so she has her mother help Trixie peel the yams to make sweet potato casserole.
The criticism begins soon after. It starts small with Penelope telling Chloe she really ought to sit and relax so that she doesn’t overdo anything. Chloe informs her she’s pregnant, not an invalid, but lets Lucifer direct her to her stool again. Then it’s Chloe’s drink choices—tea has too much caffeine and herbal is no good for the baby, either. Chloe tells her the tea she’s drinking was approved by her doctor and recommended by a recently pregnant friend—caffeine and herbal free. Followed by, “Chloe, you’re much too thin, are you eating well enough?”
Thankfully, Lucifer jumps in to distract her mother with her favorite topic—herself—and gives Chloe a reprieve, and a moment to pull Trix aside and warn her about the supernatural talk. Trixie makes a face, but Mom, all our friends are angels or the Devil or demons...or Eve. And shouldn’t Nana know about you?
Nope. Absolutely not.
Trixie does agree to keep the supernatural talk to an absolute minimum, but Chloe agrees it will be impossible to keep all comments excluded. Lucifer has no problem talking about Hell or being the Devil to anybody, anywhere, at any time. But thankfully, Penelope just thinks like Ella used to: that he’s a highly-dedicated method actor and a bit quirky.
Before going to shower and get dressed for the day, Chloe tasks her daughter and mother with setting the dinner table. Lucifer rearranged the penthouse furniture last night and moved the piano aside, then carried what had to be close to three hundred pounds of a pure walnut table from downstairs without breaking a sweat. Chloe stared at the way the muscles in his arms and back strained under the weight, trying to pretend she wasn’t turned on because Trixie was in the room. Lucifer knew, though, and intentionally flexed his muscles for her benefit. Chloe got her revenge later on in bed.
“We’ll need an extra chair,” Chloe frets as Trixie and Penelope carry plates and glasses out to the main room.
“I’ll take care of it, Detective,” Lucifer promises soothingly, rubbing her aching lower back. “Go have your shower and try to relax, hmm?”
Sighing, Chloe does as she’s told. In the bathroom, with the door locked, her wings immediately release themselves, having been agitated ever since Penelope’s arrival in response to Chloe’s emotional state. She hadn’t realized how tense she was because of it until the wings stretch out, the feathers ruffling and relaxing.
“It’s going to be a long day...” she mutters to herself, making a mental note to ask Lucifer to groom her wings when they get a chance. It’s been awhile since they did that together, and she understands now why it’s such an important bonding ritual amongst angels—it’s intimate and so relaxing. And with her and Lucifer, it tends to lead to...other intimate activities.
After her shower, she retrieves the dark green, knee-length sweater dress she’d chosen to wear today. It’s one of the few new items she picked out that accommodates her pregnant belly—and she looks good in it. Lucifer hasn’t seen her wear it yet, but insisted he at least see the color so that he can coordinate his suit to match. With her hair and makeup done, she heads out to check everyone’s progress, inhaling the delicious scents of the food currently cooking in the kitchen.
Trixie and Penelope are fussing over how to fold the cloth napkins. Apparently, Trixie watched a YouTube video on cool ways to fold them; Penelope insists a classic fold is better. Lucifer is the tiebreaker, glancing between Penelope’s raised eyebrow and Trixie’s crossed-arm glare. Trixie wins, likely because he would never hear the end of it, what with the girl living in the same house and all. Penelope huffs, affronted, but is immediately appeased when Lucifer suggests she help place the centerpieces on the table.
He glances over to the bedroom entrance where Chloe has been watching the goings on, and doubletakes double-takes, nearly choking on his whiskey. “Well, Detective, don’t you look beautiful...”
Positively stunning, my love, he adds in prayer.
Even after all this time, the way he looks at her makes her flush. “You look really pretty, Mommy!” Trixie chirps as she works on the napkins.
“Thank you, Monkey,” Chloe says, joining Lucifer near the piano. He slides a hand around her waist and presses a kiss to her hair.
And thank you. For the compliment, and for entertaining my mother today.
Think nothing of it, darling. If it takes stress off your shoulders, I am happy to bear it. Although, you may wish to know your mother is positively intent on wedding planning this evening. She’s already given me several suggestions on dates and locations.
Chloe grimaces; they still haven’t set a date. She’s torn on marrying Lucifer as soon as possible—and she knows he feels the same way—and waiting until Lucas is born so that her entire family will be present.
“I’m not sure evergreen is your color, Pumpkin...” Penelope tsks, frowning. “It makes you look pale.”
“I think it suits her perfectly,” Lucifer disagrees smoothly. “It brings out her eyes.”
“Thank you, Lucifer,” Chloe says, not bothering to rise to her mother’s comment. She likes this dress, damn it, and this color; she’s not changing because her mom thinks she’s “pale”.
He winks, then excuses himself to get ready. Chloe sighs to herself; Lucifer getting ready, especially for a party, can take hours. And she isn’t sure she has the patience to deal with her mother on her own, even with Trixie as a buffer.
“So, have you set up a nursery for the baby yet?” Penelope asks as they settle on the couch. Chloe has a little time before needing to head back to the kitchen.
“Um, actually, Lucifer is working on the nursery.”
He’s been working on the nursery for months, and still refuses to let Chloe see the progress. To the point that he’s locked the door and hidden the key when he’s not in there working.
Penelope scoffs. “You don’t get a say?”
“I do,” Chloe says with strained patience. “But this is something Lucifer wants to do for our baby and it’s important to him to get it right, so this is his project.”
“I got to see it,” Trixie brags smugly. “But Lucifer made me pinkie-swear not to tell anyone about it. It’s so cool, though, Nana!”
That’s news to Chloe. You let Trixie see the baby’s nursery before me? She wonders if Lucifer can hear the pout in her voice.
He chuckles. Patience is a virtue, Detective—or so I’m told. Soon, he promises softly. It’s nearly ready.
I look forward to it, she prays sincerely.
“Chloe, you’re taking Lucifer’s name when you get married, aren’t you? Unlike your last marriage?” Penelope asks primly.
Chloe blinks at the change in subject. “We haven’t talked about it,” she says carefully. “But I’ll probably keep my last name, at least at work.” She does need to mention that to Lucifer, though somehow she doubts he’ll have any problem with what she does with her name.
“You really ought to take your husband’s name, sweetie. Your marriage is more likely to succeed and last.”
“Says who?” Chloe asks, trying not to bristle.
“Will I have to change my last name?” Trixie asks uneasily.
“No, baby, of course not. Not if you don’t want to,” Chloe reassures her daughter soothingly.
Trixie thinks about it for a moment. “I could be Trixie Espinoza-Morningstar!” she announces brightly. And Chloe is so glad Dan is not here for this conversation; he would flip his lid.
“We can talk about it later, baby.”
“You should have the same last name as your husband and child, Chloe,” Penelope chides patronizingly. “It’s confusing enough for Trixie; imagine how that baby is going to feel.”
“My baby is going to feel fine,” Chloe snaps. “And Trixie is not confused. Are you, Monkey?” she adds uncertainly.
Trixie immediately shakes her head. “No. I think it’s cool our family is all mismatched. It shows how different we all are and how we fit together.”
Chloe gives her mother a smug look. Penelope scoffs lightly into her wine. Apparently, her mother is feeling finicky about everything today. “Names are important,” Penelope insists.
“That they are, Mama Decker. However, nobody should be forced to bear a name unless it’s their desire.” So sayeth the Devil.
The women look over to find Lucifer fully dressed, hair in perfect, majestic order and his beard trimmed neatly. His suit is charcoal with a dress shirt that matches Chloe’s dress perfectly and a light gray pocket square. Diamond cufflinks sparkle on his wrists.
Chloe tries not to drool.
“Well, aren’t you a handsome Devil?” Penelope croons, making a show out of checking Lucifer out.
Chloe cringes inwardly—so gross.
“Why, yes, I am,” Lucifer flirts back, because flirting is as natural to him as breathing. He does a little spin as he walks across the room towards them, preening like the peacock he is. Chloe bites back a smile and shakes her head. “Can I get you anything, darling?” he asks her solicitously, brushing his fingers across her cheek affectionately.
“No, I’m okay. Thanks, babe.”
Lucifer winks. A few minutes later, Chloe’s phone buzzes with a text from Dan announcing he, Charlotte, and Charlotte’s twins are here. Trixie pops up excitedly and rushes to the elevator to let them up, with Teivel hot on her heels.
“Why the tight security, anyway?” Penelope asks curiously.
Chloe hesitates. Her mother knows about the incident with Cain, at least the official LAPD version, but not with the priests—or Remiel, for that matter. And Chloe isn’t particularly eager to bring her into the loop.
“I protect what’s mine,” Lucifer states conclusively, glancing at Chloe.
With other people here, added buffers, Chloe is able to relax a little away from her mother’s criticism. Even Lucifer asks her why Penelope is being so judgmental and harsh today when they escape to the kitchen to check on the food.
Chloe sighs. “I have no idea, honestly,” she says wearily. “She gets like this sometimes, and while technically it comes from a good place, it’s exhausting.” There’s a reason Chloe didn’t think much of herself in her teen years and twenties. “She gets anxious, and with a new baby on the way, plus a new son-in-law, she’s going to be overbearing.”
“Well, I’m happy to distract wherever necessary, Detective,” Lucifer promises softly, kissing her forehead. “Try not to fret.”
“Yeah,” she sighs again.
Ella is next to arrive carrying two pies and several plates of cookies. “I wasn’t sure what you guys had going, but I like to bake, so...”
Chloe chuckles, helping her friend set everything on the bar. “It looks great, Ella, thank you. Have you met my mom?”
Next are Maze and Eve, the former with an armload of wine and vodka; the latter, carrying a centerpiece of bright flowers and some kind of fruit tart—probably apple. “We weren’t sure what to bring...” Eve says bashfully.
“Booze is always welcome in the penthouse, my dear.” Lucifer grins. “And the flowers are lovely.”
Eve squeals happily. “I’ve been doing a lot of gardening.”
“Getting dirty, then getting dirty,” Maze says, eyeing the first woman lustfully.
“There are kids here, Maze,” Chloe says dryly.
The demon shrugs. “So they learn a thing or two.”
Thankfully, Amenadiel, Linda, and Emily arrive, rounding out their party, and everyone spends the next several minutes cooing over the baby.
“She’s so tiny,” Trixie says, amazed as she takes the baby’s hand. “Is Lucas gonna be this small, Mommy?”
Chloe smiles, feeling Lucifer wrap his arms around her from behind, his hands on her belly. “He’s going to be smaller when he’s born, actually.”
“Lucas?” Penelope says, surprised. “You’re naming your son Lucas?” Everyone pauses, looking between Chloe and Penelope warily—though Maze looks like she wants to find some popcorn.
Chloe takes a deep breath through her nose and lets it out slowly. Lucifer presses closer to her back, reminding her he’s there. “Lucas John Morningstar,” he confirms softly. She can hear the smile in his voice.
Penelope purses her lips, but says nothing. Chloe excuses herself to the kitchen before she starts crying irrationally. She has no idea what her mother’s problem is, or why she doesn’t seem to like the name she and Lucifer chose for their son—actually, Chloe thought she’d be pleased they’re giving Lucas his late grandfather’s name. But it’s the last straw for her and the tears are escaping before she crosses the threshold to the kitchen.
Lucifer is right on her heels. “Chloe...” he says softly, reaching for her. “It’s all right, come here.”
She goes straight into his arms. It shouldn’t matter, none of the criticisms. But every time her mother has opened her mouth today, she’s felt like that little girl desperate for her mother’s approval but never quite getting it. “This is silly,” she mutters against Lucifer’s shirt, wincing at the sight of the dark wet spots where her tears have stained it.
“You’re doing perfectly fine, darling,” he murmurs into her hair.
“I just don’t understand what her problem is today. She shows up out of nowhere just to, what? Criticize every good thing in my life?”
“Parents are complicated,” he says knowingly. “At least your mother isn’t trying to manipulate you into starting a war in Heaven against your siblings and father by turning you against the one person in your life who matters.”
Chloe huffs wryly. “There’s that...”
Lucifer smiles down on her. “It’s going to be fine. I promise.”
She nods, because she trusts him more than anybody else. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath, wipes her eyes, stands up straight, and nods, meeting Lucifer’s soft gaze and smile. “Let’s do this, Satan.”
“Lucifer, your brother...”
Lucifer turns from where he’s arranging the side dishes he’s just brought out to the dinner table. He straightens and turns to a curious-looking Penelope. “Quite the bore, isn’t he?” he quips, though he thinks he knows what this is about. And he told Chloe he’d never mention the Miracle that Amenadiel delivered to her mother.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve met him once before, but he looks so familiar. Is he in the business?”
“Amenadiel, in the movie business?” Lucifer laughs. “Certainly not. Perhaps he just has one of those common faces?” he suggests.
Penelope frowns into her wine glass. “Perhaps...”
Lucifer wants to say something to Penelope about how she’s treated Chloe today. Seeing his fiancée crying in his arms always breaks him a little, and if Penelope were anybody else, he wouldn’t hold back.
“How are you handling impending fatherhood?” asks Penelope.
He takes a breath. “Quite well, I think. Better than I expected, certainly. I never saw myself as a father, never particularly wanted it, but with Chloe...well, I want everything.”
“A wife, a step-daughter, and a son on the way, you’re doing quite well for yourself, aren’t you? I never would have imagined you as the domestic type.”
Lucifer frowns slightly at her; it sounds like a thinly-veiled insult. “No, I wasn’t,” he says slowly. “Far from it; the opposite, as a matter of fact. Until I met your daughter. She has changed my opinion of a great many things, and helped me grow into a better man—I hope one day to truly be worthy of her. Chloe is...unique. Truly one of a kind. And the best thing to ever happen to me. Perfect, exactly the way she is.” Perhaps that last part was a bit too pointed, but it needed to be said. “I don’t like it when people hurt her—in any way.”
“Chloe is stubborn, she always has been. I think she gets it from her father,” Penelope says—stubbornly. “She never should have left acting, and now she has a second child on the way with a terribly dangerous job. If something happens to the two of you, what happens to these children?”
A muscle in Lucifer’s jaw twitches irritably. “Chloe is an impeccable detective, the best the LAPD or any PD has to offer, and she’s exceptionally careful.” Not to mention invulnerable and immortal now. “Neither of us has any intention of leaving Trixie or Lucas without their parents, but if the worst were to happen...well. As you can see there are several people here who would be more than willing to step in.”
“I suppose,” Penelope says tightly. “You’ll take care of them?”
“To my last breath.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask...”
Dinner is quite the affair. Trixie and Charlotte’s son and daughter are seated at a smaller table laughing and teasing one another like siblings. The adults are comfortable around the large rectangular table in the center of the penthouse. The spread of food is widely varied from the most basic of dishes to complicated, colorful ones. The bar is covered with several desserts ranging from pumpkin, apple, and cherry pies, to Miss Lopez’s large array of cookies, and a chocolate cake the Urchin insisted upon.
Finally, Chloe has a genuine smile on her face, now that everything was served on time and came out perfectly, as Lucifer promised. He reaches over to place a hand on her knee and when she looks at him, he smiles.
“Feel better now?” he asks hopefully, filling her glass of homemade apple cider.
Chloe looks around the table at her friends and family all filling their plates, passing dishes to one another, smiling, laughing, and chatting. She looks over at her daughter cackling at something Charlotte’s son Micah said to her. Then she rests one hand on her belly over their growing baby and the other holding Lucifer’s.
“Couldn’t be happier,” she says honestly.
He leans towards her. I know what I’m most thankful for, he prays, holding her gaze meaningfully. You.
Her eyes are bright as she gives him a brief, chaste kiss. I’m most thankful for you, too, Lucifer. For everything you’ve done for us, and given us—you make me so happy I don’t know what to do with myself.
And oh, he wants to crash his lips to hers, but he’s well aware of their audience and that Chloe wouldn’t approve of the semi-public display. Later...
Happy Thanksgiving, Chloe.
Happy Thanksgiving, Lucifer.
Chapter 6: Samael
Notes:
Thanks as ever to MightBeAWriter for proofreading this chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the immediate days following Thanksgiving at the penthouse, apparently, it is time to get into the Christmas spirit. A holiday Lucifer has always curled his lip at and disparaged. Honestly, why does his literal bastard, not-really-half-brother, who was mostly one of his father’s little experiments that got quite out of hand get a holiday, but the Devil doesn’t?
But now that he’s living with Chloe and Trixie, he’ll have to suck it up and deal, because it’s a holiday they clearly look forward to every year. Chloe explained many of her family’s traditions to him one evening, and while they didn’t sound entirely appealing to the Devil who avoids everything even the slightest bit Christmas-adjacent, they didn’t sound completely awful, either.
Growing up, Chloe’s family was never religious, so Christmas was more about being with family than anything spiritual. They would decorate their home from floor to ceiling, including going out to find the perfect tree, and different family events throughout the month leading up to Christmas day. The only part Lucifer is entirely on board with is the buying of gifts for his loved ones; for once, not even Chloe can tell him to “not go overboard”, though she does try.
“Trixie will give us a list,” Chloe explains, “and we can go from there. All I’m asking is that you don’t, like...I don’t know, buy her a horse or something ridiculous.” When Lucifer tilts his head to think about the logistics of buying the Urchin an equine, Chloe levels a glare at him. “No horse, Lucifer.”
He smirks and sips his whiskey. “What horse?”
And so, the penthouse undergoes a steady transformation. Luckily, Lucifer is allowed a say in how their home is decorated and swiftly bans the use of tacky inflatable Santa Clauses and reindeer. He does allow the fairy lights strung along the staircase and the upstairs library. As well as a white wooden reindeer cutout wearing sunglasses and a Santa hat hung near the elevator. He spends much of the time complaining, but once they’ve finished decorating the flat, he thinks he doesn’t mind it so much. With the fires going as well as a white balsam and vanilla scented candle, it feels...cozy. Like a home.
The tree is next on the list. Lucifer has never understood the human tradition of cutting down perfectly good, functional trees, dragging them into their homes for a couple of weeks to a month, having to sweep up sticky pine needles that are dropped for that duration, stringing them with lights and garland and trinkets...only to leave them on the curb outside their home at the end of the holiday to be chucked away as compost. It’s bloody preposterous. But as ever, he cannot deny the women in his life what they desire.
At six months pregnant, Chloe is starting to slow down a bit, which makes it difficult to keep up with an overly excited Urchin in search of the perfect Christmas tree for the penthouse. Chloe and Lucifer trail behind her, always keeping her within sight and calling her back when she gets too far ahead. Which naturally leads to an incredibly impatient ten-year-old.
“What exactly are we seeking in the ‘perfect’ Christmas tree, Detective?” Lucifer asks, brushing his thumb against the back of Chloe’s hand.
She shrugs. “We’ll know it when we see it,” she informs him helpfully.
“Lovely,” he deadpans.
“Thank you, for going along with all of this. I know you’re not exactly a fan of the holiday, but it means a lot to me that you’re indulging us,” Chloe says softly, bumping against his shoulder.
He sniffs, adjusting the collar of his long wool jacket. “It’s quite all right. It’s important to you, Detective, therefore, it is important to me,” he reminds her. “And I suppose...it isn’t all bad. Seeing the Urchin happy certainly makes it worthwhile.”
“Sap.” Chloe smiles teasingly, gazing towards her daughter scrutinizing every tree she passes in the lot. Her smile softens. “It really does, though,” she agrees. “And next year, we’ll have Lucas with us.”
That makes Lucifer smile. “Yes,” he murmurs. “That will be quite the experience, won’t it?”
In the end, they find a ten-foot Douglas fir that’s a little lopsided with uneven branches. Chloe and Trixie declare it absolutely perfect, while Lucifer is looking at a tree of the exact same height that is objectively perfect in every way right beside the one they’ve chosen.
“Why this one?” Lucifer asks, bemused.
“Its flaws give it character,” Chloe informs him simply. “Just like our family—none of us are perfect, but we’re perfect in our own ways. And together. So is this tree.”
Lucifer huffs a small laugh, gazing at the tree with a cocked head. The old him would scoff and tell her that’s overly sappy drivel, then offer to show her just how “perfect” they can be together—in bed, completely nude. But he’s not the Devil he once was. “I suppose you’re right, Detective.”
“Of course I am. I’m always right, don’t you know that by now?”
Smirking, but refusing to agree with her out loud and give her the satisfaction, Lucifer calls over one of the lot attendants to arrange delivery of their imperfectly perfect Christmas tree—and forks out nearly $400 between the tree itself and the delivery fee. Once the business aspect is taken care of, he’s led (read: dragged) to a stand that sells sweets and hot chocolate, and they settle on a bench to enjoy their treats, listening to Trixie talk about all the decorations they’re going to put on their tree. Luckily, the Decker family decorations were stored in the attic of Chloe’s old apartment, so they weren’t destroyed by the fire. Chloe especially was relieved by this, as some of the decorations were her father’s.
Unfortunately for the Urchin, following the search for the perfect tree, it’s her weekend with her father, and so decorating will have to wait. Apparently, the tree has to take a day or two to “settle”, anyway. After dropping Trixie off at Dan’s apartment, Chloe decides she wants Mexican takeout for dinner, so they stop by Sol de Javier where Junior is more than willing to load them up.
They’re laughing as they enter the penthouse following a dirty joke Lucifer told her, but he abruptly freezes, throwing out his arm to stop Chloe advancing any farther inside.
“Lucifer?” she asks, confused by his sudden change of mood.
He doesn’t answer immediately, sharp eyes slowly scanning the penthouse, every nook and cranny—every shadow.
Don’t say a word.
What’s going on?
We aren’t alone.
Chloe tenses, gripping the back of his coat. He can feel her nod near his shoulder.
“I know you’re here,” he calls out coldly. “I will not jump at shadows—show yourself. Michael.” He hears Chloe’s soft gasp of surprise.
Nothing happens for a moment, then a figure steps out of the shadows in the corner near the balcony doors, and Lucifer sets eyes on his twin brother for the first time in billions upon billions of years. The last time he’d seen Michael was as he was being flung over the edge of the Silver City, and Lucifer had reflexively reached out for something, anything to stop himself falling. He has a vague recollection of grabbing a wing and hearing a pained shout, but he was too busy falling to care at the time. Now, he thinks, he’s seeing the result of that: Michael’s posture is...lopsided. His left shoulder hangs lower than his right and he’s a bit hunched in his tweed jacket and bloody turtleneck sweater.
“Hello, brother,” Michael says in that flat accent.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” Lucifer growls, his wings struggling to free themselves to protect Chloe. Thankfully, this time, she’s listening to his directive.
Michael shrugs his good shoulder, looking around the festively decorated penthouse with a condescending sneer. “Thought it was time I met my future sister-in-law,” he says dismissively. “I hear we have a new angel in our midst.”
“She is not your future anything, and she’s certainly not in your midst,” Lucifer says evenly.
His brother smirks, a twisted version of what Lucifer sees in the mirror everyday, his gaze turning to Chloe. “And you must be the Miracle. Nice to meet you, I am the archangel Michael.”
Lucifer growls. “Do not speak to her,” he commands in his King of Hell voice. “In fact, get out of our home.”
“Such hostility, brother.” Michael feigns hurt, clutching his chest. “When I’ve come all this way to catch up after our years apart?”
“Oh, please,” Lucifer scoffs. “You didn’t come here to ‘catch up’. What do you really want?”
Michael rolls his eyes impatiently. “Fine. I’m here because I want to know how you managed to create a new angel without Father’s permission.”
“Why don’t you go ask Him?” Lucifer sneers. The longer his twin is here, the more he wants to simply Light up and blast him out the damn window. “It’s His ineffable plan, and not even I can create angels!”
Michael cocks his head, leaning over to get a better look at Chloe, gaze locked on her belly. “No? According to Remiel, not only does your little pet here have wings of her own, but she’s incubating some sort of mutant angel herself.”
Lucifer growls threateningly. “Get out. You are not welcome here, do not return. Stay away from my family, Michael.”
“Your family?” Michael scoffs sardonically. “And how much longer do you think Father will let you keep playing house with the humans, Samael? You might have spent the last eight years roaming free due to Meni’s failures, but Father will not condone creating a whole new species of angels through his pet project.”
“Then He can come here Himself and try to take it from me,” Lucifer says, the fury he felt when Remiel chucked her spear at Chloe returning full force. “But oh, wait, from what I hear, nobody knows where dear old Dad even is, so you can’t. I’ve done my time in Hell, thanks. If He wants an angel on the throne so badly, He can send you to do it.”
“We’ll see,” Michael sneers. “Pleasure to meet you, Chloe Decker. I look forward to getting to know you much better.”
Lucifer’s eyes Light up with pure white starlight. For a moment, Michael freezes and falters at the sight, but only for a moment. “I will not say it again, Michael: Get out and stay the bloody hell away from my family.”
Michael covers his millisecond of fear with a smirk. “We’ll speak again when you’re in a more amenable mood, Samael.” He slinks towards the balcony, unfurling his midnight black wings—the right one hanging lower than the left, clearly damaged, with feathers sticking out in odd angles. With a flap, he’s gone.
Lucifer waits several seconds, just to be sure, then lets his eyes dim before he turns to Chloe. She’s wide-eyed, eyebrows furrowed, like she doesn’t know quite what to think about what just happened. “Are you all right?” he murmurs, hands finding her shoulders.
Chloe swallows, tearing her gaze from where Michael stood to look at him. “Yeah, that was just...weird, like looking into a funhouse mirror.”
Lucifer scoffs. “Obviously, you got the more handsome twin,” he sniffs primly.
“Obviously.” She searches his eyes, her expression turning sympathetic. “Are you all right?”
Averting his eyes, he swallows, unable to lie but unwilling to tell the truth that, no, he is far from all right. “We should get you and the little gremlin fed, hmm?”
She hesitates, like she wants to press him to give her the real answer; he silently begs her not to, not yet. Finally, she nods, and he has to stifle a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s eat...”
Lucifer can practically hear the questions forming in her mind as she settles at the coffee table to eat and he goes out to double-check that his snake twin has indeed slithered off elsewhere. Closing and locking the balcony doors behind him—not that that could stop Michael if he wants back in—he makes a cup of tea for Chloe and pours a large glass of whiskey for himself, then finally settles down beside his fiancée. Though his eyes drift towards the balcony every few minutes or so, searching. He hasn’t forgotten his twin’s tendency to eavesdrop, and before his Fall, Michael had gotten so good at it, not even Lucifer could tell when he was listening in; Lucifer doesn’t want to even imagine what the intervening years up to now have done to hone Michael’s skills.
“You’re worried he’ll come back?” Chloe asks softly.
“Or that he’s spying,” Lucifer says in a low voice. “He doesn’t need Remiel to tell him anything; if he wants to know something, he bloody well knows it.” And maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned that; Chloe doesn’t need more stress in her life. “Though I suspect that little display was just to get a rise out of me—and not the fun kind.”
Unfortunately, Chloe doesn’t take the innuendo bait. “I won’t push if you don’t want me to, but if you want to talk...”
Swallowing a mouthful of whiskey, Lucifer finds he can’t quite meet her gaze. It’s utterly irrational, because he knows she means what she says, but he feels as though he’s letting her down or disappointing her by not spilling his guts about his feelings towards his twin and his visit this evening. He just... Michael being here has drudged up more feelings and memories than he thought it would, things he has spent eons burying, and it isn’t something he’s ready to face, even with Chloe.
“I know, Detective. Thank you.”
She leans over and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, then reaches for the TV remote to find them something to watch that will take their minds off things.
It doesn’t work.
When Chloe wakes in the middle of the night to pee for the nth time thanks to her son using her bladder as a hacky sack, she knows before even opening her eyes that Lucifer isn’t in bed with her. He’d been quiet all evening, except when he was putting on airs for her benefit to reassure her. She knows she probably should have called him out on it, to remind him he never has to pretend with her, but she got the impression it was making him feel better to think she was falling for it. By the time they went to sleep, after he made love to her with more deliberate tenderness than usual, she knew it was going to be a rough night for him. She expected nightmares, maybe, but slipping away to stand guard on the balcony like a diabolical Batman was also an option.
So, after taking care of business and washing up, Chloe slips on the fluffy robe Lucifer bought her when she was picking out maternity wear for the next few months and heads straight out to the balcony. He’s there, wings out and wrapped around himself like he’s cold, bent over the railing on his forearms as he drinks his whiskey and searches the skies for his stars—or maybe his twin.
Beside him on the floor, Teivel is curled up, his head on Lucifer’s bare foot. When Michael arrived, the hound was on a lower level of the penthouse that Lucifer opened up for his use. It’s an exercise room of sorts and when they aren’t home, that’s where Teivel spends most of his time. Apparently, he wasn’t alerted to the angel’s arrival, even with his advanced olfactory senses. Which is bothersome, because what if Michael comes back and Teivel can’t alert them to the danger?
Lucifer assured her that Teivel now has Michael’s lingering scent, so whatever he was doing to mask himself, he can’t repeat it.
Chloe wasn’t sure what to make of Michael. She meant what she said about the funhouse mirror—it was like Michael studied all of Lucifer’s mannerisms to copy, but couldn’t quite pull them off with the same flare and natural charisma. Michael had that same cold glint in his eyes she’d seen from the last two villains they’d dealt with—first Cain, then Kinley. Except it was clear he’s been calculating and conniving for far, far longer than either of those two could imagine and was far better at it. She doesn’t know Michael well enough, or even know enough about him, to begin guessing what his game is, but she suspects this will not be the last they see of him.
What worries her, though, is Lucifer and his reaction to the visit. He doesn’t talk much about his time in the Silver City beyond a mention here or there, or bits and pieces about his so-called rebellion that was really just asking a question. But Chloe has always known, even when she thought him human, that there was a lot of hurt and pain for him growing up, long before his family turned their backs on him. And she suspects Michael might be one of the biggest sources of that for him.
One word keeps replaying through her mind: Samael. Michael used it twice, and Chloe could feel Lucifer’s primal reaction both times—the way his fists clenched and his body tensed, almost a full-body flinch she doesn’t think he was even aware he made. The name sounds vaguely familiar, though she can’t quite pinpoint where from, and while she wanted to ask him about it, the last thing she ever wants is to cause him more pain. She considered Googling the name, but she’d rather hear it from Lucifer’s lips—anything else feels like a betrayal.
“Hey.” She leans as best she can against the railing next to him. He must have sensed her coming, because he doesn’t tense or startle; he just unwraps one of his wings from himself and curls it around her, shielding her from the December chill.
“You should be asleep.”
“And your son should keep his little feet to himself.”
He laughs softly. “Bladder again?”
“Spleen.”
Lucifer grimaces sympathetically. “I’ll have a word with him in the morning about his behavior.”
Rolling her eyes, because Lucifer’s idea of parental discipline will absolutely be encouraging behavior in a manner that won’t get his kid caught next time, Chloe shuffles over until she’s pressed against his side. “Can’t sleep?”
He sighs heavily. “Not particularly. I suppose I’m a bit...keyed up.” Whiskey glass set aside, his arms encircle her shoulders and he sighs into her hair. “I know I’ve not been the best company tonight—”
“Hey. You know that you don’t have to put on a performance with me, Lucifer,” she reminds him firmly. “You don’t have to entertain or pretend, never with me. I know this...visit from your brother threw you off track; you don’t have to pretend otherwise. Okay?”
She feels his shuddering exhale followed by his nod. “Yes, Detective,” he says with a hint of amusement that’s gone in an instant. “I suppose I just...wasn’t expecting it to bother me so much. I’ve not seen any of my siblings but Amenadiel since my Fall, yet in the last month, I’ve seen three, only one of whom was actually invited. Quite frankly, I think I preferred it when they pretended I didn't exist.”
Somehow, Chloe doesn’t think it would bother him nearly so much if those siblings weren’t showing an interest in her and their son. Growing up, Chloe always wanted a sibling—playing with her toys alone got old quickly; not having anybody to play with or share secrets with; or somebody to go to when she was upset with her parents. It was a lonely existence, for her especially, since she didn’t even have an outlet of friends at school to fall back on as she got older—it was all acting lessons and private tutors. It’s one of the many reasons she and Dan (a fellow only child) wanted to give Trixie a sibling of her own. Ella always talks about how annoying but amazing her brothers are, how close they were growing up, and Chloe used to feel envious of those experiences.
At least until she learned about Lucifer’s family. Granted, no family is even close to being as dysfunctional as Lucifer’s, but he has dozens upon dozens of siblings, none of whom (with very few exceptions) he can stand. Azrael seems to be the only one he doesn’t despise or resent for not taking his side, but not even his favorite little sister bothered to visit him in Hell. Amenadiel...well, from what Chloe has seen personally, they’re closer than they were when Chloe first met them, but that relationship is always going to be complicated.
Now, she’s met two of Lucifer’s more openly hostile siblings—because despite Michael’s words, he wasn’t here for a brotherly catch-up—and she suspects that’s the status quo with the angels: Lucifer is the enemy and is to be treated as such.
Chloe makes a silent vow to both of her children that it will not be the same between them. She won’t watch her children turn on each other, and she suspects Lucifer feels exactly the same way.
“Can I ask you something?” She hesitates because she knows he will answer whatever she asks, even if it hurts him to talk about it.
“Always,” he agrees easily, though she can hear the hint of apprehension in his voice. “You know that.”
She props her chin on his chest, letting her fingers brush against his feathers to help soothe him. “Michael called you something...”
As expected, he tenses and his feathers bristle in agitation. “Hmm.”
“You don’t have to tell me, and if you really don’t want to discuss it, I’ll drop it and never bring it up again.”
He sighs heavily, shaking his head as he shifts uncomfortably. “No. It’s likely something I should have mentioned to you months ago, anyway.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slowly. “He called me...Samael.” His lip curls in a sneer, and she can hear that name filled with hatred and pain, and even fear. “It was the name given to me when my father first created me, the name I shed when He banished and abandoned me in Hell. And it means...Poison of God.”
Chloe tries not to react physically to hearing that Lucifer’s parents named him Poison. “Oh.” She has never hated God more than right in this moment; how could any parent label their own child something so vile and horrific?
“I suppose He knew even then I would turn out defective, ruining everything I touch—”
“Stop,” Chloe says fiercely, looking up at him with her eyes stinging. “You are not defective, Lucifer, and you do not ruin everything you touch, you are not poison. You’re a good man with a huge heart who has been hurt in ways I can’t begin to comprehend. You might be damaged, but you are not broken, and anybody who can’t see how wonderful and amazing you are is the defective one. Do you hear me?”
Lucifer looks back at her with such ancient heartbreak she doesn’t know how to soothe it. “Then...why did He reject me? Why didn’t He want me?”
Chloe’s heart shatters at the sound of his small, breaking voice. “Oh, Lucifer...” What is she supposed to even say to that? “The fault is on Him, not you. You were His child, and He should have loved you the way I love Trixie—the way you and I love Lucas already. He should have protected you, but He failed you. That isn’t your fault. I’m so sorry.”
He stifles a sob and leans down to bury his face in her neck. She cradles the back of his head, carding her fingers through his hair. Her wings join the fray, managing to wrap themselves around his lower back, below his own wings. Chloe throws a glare at the sky—at God—for doing this to her partner—the best, bravest, strongest man she knows.
I swear, if I ever meet Him...
And all this was brought on by a five minute conversation with his asshole twin brother.
“I’ve got you, baby,” she whispers into his hair. “It’s okay...”
Teivel stands, whining a little, and comes to lean against Lucifer’s leg to help comfort him.
After a while, he begins to calm and pulls away from her, wiping discreetly at his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Chloe shakes her head, hands on his chest over his racing heart. “Don’t be. Hey, I broke down after dealing with my mom on Thanksgiving—and that wasn’t entirely pregnancy hormones, so I get it.” Sort of. “I’m always here for you, Lucifer.”
He gives her a shadow of her smile. “I know you are.” The backs of his fingers trail across her cheek. “It’s one of the reasons I love you so bloody much. I loathe that one visit from my bastard twin can do this to me.” An echo of Chloe's thoughts. “I forsook that name when I managed to pick myself up in Hell—if He didn’t want me, then I would no longer be ‘of God’. ‘Lucifer’ was more a moniker in the Silver City, which as you know, means Light Bringer, so I adopted it as my new name along with ‘Morningstar’.”
“Lucifer Morningstar—” She mimics his accent, knowing she’s butchering it, but also that it will make him laugh; it does. “—is a perfect name for you. Very fitting.” She cups his face, her expression serious. “You will always be Lucifer to me—my Lucifer.”
“My Detective,” he murmurs, resting his forehead to hers. One of his hands slides down to her bump. “My Bringer of Light.”
“Yours,” she confirms, kissing his nose.
“Speaking of...I had plans for this evening, before they were derailed by Saint Prick the ArchBastard.” Chloe snorts a laugh. “Are you tired?”
She considers. “Not really. Your son is wide awake, anyway; I’m not getting back to sleep.”
“Why is it when he’s misbehaving suddenly he’s ‘my son’?” Lucifer asks archly—his eyes are dancing with humor.
She stares at him blandly. “Do I really have to answer that?” she deadpans.
Lucifer huffs a laugh and shrugs away his wings. Chloe does the same and slips her hand into the one he holds out to her invitingly. “In that case, there’s something I wish for you to see, Detective.” He leads her back into the penthouse, past their bedroom into a side hall, Teivel trotting along behind them.
Chloe begins to smile. “Are you finally going to show me what you’ve been working on for months?”
“Well, I wanted to ensure its perfection before revealing the final product—and I managed to get some time whilst you were working yesterday,” he informs her as they stop at a set of double doors. The room, originally, had a much different function, one that made Chloe hesitate to repurpose for their baby’s nursery, but Lucifer assured her he would have it thoroughly cleaned and sanitized.
“I can’t wait to see it,” she tells him honestly.
He smiles excitedly. “Close your eyes...” She does and hears the click of the lock, then Lucifer is carefully leading her into the room. “Ready?”
Chloe bites her lip in anticipation, nodding. “Ready.”
“Open your eyes, Detective.”
She does, and promptly gasps. “Lucifer...”
The room is beautiful. The walls farthest from the large bay window are painted black, fading into lighter blues closer to the window, representing the sky. Stars are dotted in the black, some with thin gold lines connecting them to make constellations; fluffy clouds and a sun are present near the window.
The furniture is all polished dark wood from the crib to the changing table to the rocking chair in the right-hand corner, and all clearly customized and expensive. The crib itself is etched with stars and moons; the bedding is dark blue and patterned to fit the theme. Above the crib, their son’s name is painted in thin, golden calligraphy.
The carpet is soft and plush between Chloe’s toes. Stacks of supplies—diapers in several sizes; burp rags; bottles and pacifiers—are in a corner near the changing table all ready for use. Toys line the surfaces of the changing table, the dresser, the crib, rocking chair, and a loveseat placed near the window.
“Lucifer...” she whispers again, taking it all in. With every scan of the room she makes, she finds more little details.
“Do you like it?” he murmurs with hopeful anxiety.
Chloe blurts an incredulous laugh, her eyes burning with tears. “I love it,” she says emphatically, tearing her gaze from the room to look at him. With his messy curls, big eyes shining with love and hope, he’s never looked more adorable. “Lucifer, this is amazing. I can’t believe you did this!”
His anxiety shifts to excitement and joy. “You’ve not even seen the best part, Detective.” He guides her by the shoulders to the loveseat. “Have a sit down, darling, you’ll love this...” He grabs what looks to be a remote control and sits down beside her. “You can also control this with your phone, but for our current purposes—”
He presses a button and the overhead lights and table lamps dim, then switch off, leaving them with only the light from the city through the window behind them. Another button press, and Chloe is gasping again, this time at the ceiling. Tiny dots of soft lights are scattered in the ceiling—stars—in different colors, golds and soft pinks and blues and greens, somehow without being overwhelming. Yet another button and a projected image fills the ceiling of swirling galaxies, shooting comets, and rotating planets.
“...wow...” Chloe breathes in wonder. “That is amazing...”
“This took quite a bit of time to get right,” Lucifer says softly, just as entranced as Chloe. “Between the electrician and computer engineer for the projected hologram, but I think it came out nicely.”
She shakes her head. “More than nice, Lucifer, this is...incredible. Lucas is going to love it.”
He gives her that sweet, shy, boyish smile she loves. “I hope so,” he murmurs, placing a hand over her belly. In response, confirmation of Chloe’s assurance, Lucas kicks his father’s hand, making Lucifer chuckle. “The constellations were quite tricky.” He nods towards the far, black wall where Chloe only now notices the painted constellations are lit up by the same lights that are in the ceiling. “That’s how the Urchin assisted me; I didn’t want to use existing ones, but to create new ones that represent our family.”
Chloe studies the constellations, trying to make out what they are. “Is that a detective’s badge?” she asks, grinning.
“It is, indeed. Well done, darling.”
“I see wings, too.” She cocks her head at one and hopes for Lucifer’s sake that it isn’t what it looks like. “What’s that one?” She points at a constellation towards the left wall near the door that’s shaped like a dick and balls.
Lucifer snorts knowingly. “It’s a rocket ship, Detective, mind out of the gutter. Your firstborn’s contribution, actually, along with the image of Mars on the ceiling—she absolutely insisted. One of Maze’s karambits,” he points at another, “Devil horns, naturally.” A hand with all but two fingers folded down—the pointer and the pinky. “And a baby duck, to represent Detective Quacker.”
Chloe laughs. “You did an amazing job, Lucifer, really. I don’t even know what to say.” Honestly, she would have been happy with a lick of paint and baby furniture, but this... “Thank you, Lucifer.” She cradles his face and kisses him.
Lucifer smiles into it, thumbing away her tears tenderly. “You’re welcome, darling,” he murmurs against her lips. “I wanted to do something special for Lucas, something to show him that he is loved and that he always will be. This is what came to mind.”
“He knows,” Chloe says confidently. The way this kid goes nuts anytime Lucifer touches her belly or sings to him or plays piano—he knows. “We both do.”
“Good,” he says simply, though his voice trembles and his eyes are bright. He leans back into the loveseat, bringing Chloe with him, and they stare at the ceiling until they fall asleep.
Notes:
Hope everyone is enjoying the story so far. And if you haven't yet, check out my Luci-tober one-shots!
Also, the next two chapters have references to some of my favorite Christmas-themed Lucifer stories:
I'll Be Home for Christmas by Nemeses
'a thrill of hope' universe by lucygerm
And if you're in the mood for Christmas-themed fics, check out mine!
Chapter 7: Satan Claus
Notes:
Merry (early) Christmas!
There is an adult scene in the middle of this chapter, so please be aware of that. And apologies for the length. I didn't want to split it up and have three Christmas chapters in a row, but I did do a bit of pruning to cut it down, and this is the outcome. Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The penthouse’s first ever Christmas tree is delivered the next day. Lucifer calls Patrick and one of the security guys up to help him set it in the tree stand near the balcony doors. Afterwards, he whines and complains about getting covered in tree sap for an hour and a half, even after Chloe snapped for him to just go take a damn shower and get changed.
To give Lucifer the opportunity to have input in how the tree is decorated, they settle on the couch with an iPad and search for decorations—the ones Chloe already has are great, but this tree is almost double the size she’s always had and will look pretty bare unless they have more. Lucifer thumbs his nose at most of the ornaments, like the snob he is, but chooses several others. Chloe puts her foot down against the X-rated themed ones that excited him.
“My ten-year-old is going to see this tree,” she told him sternly. They were looking at an ornament of a gingerbread couple going at it doggy-style with the caption “I'm gonna crumb” above it. “Absolutely not, Lucifer.”
“Boring...”
Though she’s sure he’s managed to sneak-order a few without her noticing.
When Trixie returned home on Sunday, they spent the evening squabbling over ornament placement—well, Trixie and Lucifer did; Chloe mostly supervised from the couch, acting as tiebreaker when arguments edged away from playful. When it came time to hang the “First Christmas” ornaments, one of her favorite traditions, Chloe darted into the bedroom for the small, wrapped package she’s been saving for Lucifer.
“Everyone gets their own ornament to commemorate their first Christmas,” Chloe explained, handing Lucifer the gift, “to officialize their place in the Decker family.”
Lucifer handled the box like it was a priceless jewel rather than a $30 trinket, carefully peeling tape and unwrapping the paper like he planned to reuse it. Finally, when he lifted the lid of the box, he stared with bright eyes and parted lips at his ornament: round and bordered with a starry-sky background, a photo of him playing piano in the center, and below in red cursive, Lucifer’s First Christmas.
“Yes, Urchin, I like it very much,” he said thickly in response to Trixie’s excited query. Glistening eyes darted to Chloe. Thank you, darling.
Chloe winked. It’s really official now: You’re ours and you’re stuck with us. Family.
Lucifer gave her the smile reserved just for her. Nowhere else I’d rather be.
The tree was lit with white, blinking lights and wrapped with gold garland. The topper Chloe grew up with was a regular golden star that’s been in her family since her father was a child. This year, however, Trixie decided they needed something new, so with Chloe’s permission, she searched the Internet for a new topper, and spent a week altering it. The result had Chloe doubled over laughing and Lucifer torn between being horrified, amused, and flattered.
It’s an angel with large, fluffy white wings...wearing a black three-piece suit complete with red pocket square, red-soled shoes, five o’clock shadow, red eyes, and a smirk.
Obviously, it was Lucifer.
“I think it’s amazing, Monkey,” Chloe told her daughter as she eyed the detail. Trixie even nailed the hairstyle.
“I wanted to make his Devil face, too, but he won’t show it to me.”
“Nor will I, child,” Lucifer said dryly.
“Do you like it, Lucifer?”
Chloe watched him stare at the Lucifer-angel topper in his hands, holding it like a delicate, priceless piece of art. He was just as touched with this as the ornament Chloe gave him. “Yes, Urchin, it’s quite something,” he quietly commented. He barely complained when Trixie demanded he lift her up so she can put the Lucifer-topper in place.
As they all stood back to look at their handiwork—Trixie in Lucifer’s arms still, because she attached herself to him like a baby koala, Lucifer’s free arm around Chloe’s shoulder, and hers around his waist—they saw that it was good.
Chloe’s current biggest complaint about Lucifer is that he is impossible to buy gifts for. The ornament was one thing, but beyond that, she struggled to come up with ideas for him—her pregnancy-fogged brain isn’t helping, either.
What do you give the Devil who has everything and can buy himself whatever he doesn’t?
Ella was the one to suggest personalized gifts, things that he wouldn’t buy for himself, because he’d never even think of them. A few Google searches and plenty of frustration later, Chloe finally had a burst of inspiration to help make the Devil’s first Christmas memorable.
In the few weeks leading up to Christmas morning, gifts began piling up beneath the tree at an almost alarming rate—because Lucifer Morningstar does not know the meaning of self-control. Most of the gifts are for Trixie, though several have Lucas’ name (the kid isn’t even born, and he’s already being spoiled rotten), and a few smaller stacks for Lucifer and Chloe. Even Teivel has a few.
About a week before Christmas, however, the peace is broken.
Lucifer is down in Lux for a few hours playing a set after Chloe practically shoved him out of the penthouse. He’d been complaining for hours he was bored and started cleaning every surface of the apartment with a manic energy that exhausted her even more than she already is. He was reluctant to leave, but Chloe assured him Teivel would be on guard, she has her Hell-forged bullets and short sword, and she could pray if there was trouble.
Trixie is at a sleepover tonight, so it’s just Chloe and the Hellhound. The Detective is curled on the couch as best she can be with her nearly seven-month pregnant belly watching trash TV and dozing when Teivel begins barking ferociously. Chloe is immediately on alert, reaching beneath the couch cushion where she stashed her gun for Lucifer’s peace of mind. As quickly as she can, she’s on her feet.
It’s immediately apparent what got Teivel’s guard up: Michael is back.
“Well, hello, Chloe Decker,” the angel smirks, opening the balcony doors and stepping inside like he owns the place. He glances at the Christmas tree with disdain, sneering at the Lucifer-topper, then turns his attention back to her. “Alone at last.”
“What do you want?” she asks coldly. Lucifer, Michael is here now! “Lucifer told you not to come back here.”
“Yeah, well, Samael isn’t the boss of me, sweetheart.”
“I am not your sweetheart,” Chloe snaps through gritted teeth. She’s backing away as Michael advances. Teivel is standing between them, growling low, his glamour flickering between his Hell- and Earth-visages. Her gun is trained on the warped version of her partner.
Are you okay, Chloe?! I’m on my way!
Fine! I’m fine.
She hears Lucifer growl through prayer.
“I just wanted to see what was so special about you that my idiot brother decided to reproduce with a human.” Michael shudders in disgust. Then he cocks his head the way Lucifer does, and it looks so weird with his crooked shoulders. “Then again...maybe you aren’t so human, after all.” He nods towards her belly. “And neither is that thing inside you. Ever wonder what kind of warped little creature it might turn out to be?”
Chloe cocks her gun. “You have two seconds to leave or I start firing.”
“Like that’ll hurt me,” he scoffs.
“Hell-forged bullets, asshole—yeah, I think it might smart a bit.”
The elevator doors open and Lucifer practically flies out, grabbing his brother by the neck and slamming him against the wall hard enough that some of the stone crumbles around them. “I warned you to stay away from her.”
“Easy, Samael,” Michael wheezes, scratching and struggling at Lucifer’s hand around his neck. “Just wanted to see what the fuss is about.” He glances at Chloe and smirks. “Can’t say I get it...”
Lucifer growls, eyes lighting up white. “You have no business here. And if you touch a hair on her head, I will smite you to ash.”
“The way you did Cain?” Perhaps it’s said to evoke guilt. That’s not going to work on Lucifer—he’s never once felt guilty about Cain.
“Precisely.”
Michael manages to succeed in knocking Lucifer’s hand away from him—or far more likely, Lucifer let him go. Gasping for breath and coughing, Michael glares at his twin. “I wasn’t gonna hurt her, jeez...”
“I don’t care. Nobody in the Silver City has business here, with me or with my family. Next time, I will not hesitate, have I made myself clear?” Lucifer’s voice is in that low timbre that makes walls shake and the glass bottles behind the bar rattle.
Michael straightens, rubbing at his neck. “Crystal,” he says sarcastically.
Teivel follows the angel back to the balcony doors, snarling, growling, and snapping his jaws at Michael’s ankles, but not biting without an order. Michael rolls his eyes at the hound. He throws Chloe a cold smirk. “Good luck with the rest of your incubation period...”
“OUT!” Lucifer roars.
“Love the Earth hospitality, bro...” With a snap of crooked wings, Michael is gone.
Lucifer is in front of Chloe immediately, hands on her face, her shoulders, her arms. “Are you all right?” he asks desperately. “Did he harm you?”
“No. No, Lucifer, he didn’t even get close enough to touch me. I’m fine.” Chloe flips the safety on her gun and sets it aside, putting her hands on Lucifer’s waist reassuringly.
Sighing in relief, he rests his forehead against hers. “That was his final warning.”
Chloe stares past him towards the dark balcony, hand caressing her belly in a self-soothing gesture. She shouldn’t let what Michael said get to her—she’s dealt with enough assholes in her career to know that that was his intention. And she knows her baby is fine, she can feel it in her gut—they’ve seen the scans and there were certainly no abnormalities, then.
But now there’s a tiny voice in the back of her mind hissing, “What if...”
Lucifer must notice something in her expression—his eyebrows furrow. “Chloe? What did he say to you?”
She shakes her head. It shouldn’t matter, especially coming from the angel who physically threw his own twin out of Heaven and into Hell. “Nothing,” she murmurs, her stomach curdling at the lie. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Chloe, listen to me,” Lucifer says urgently. “Michael’s power is fear, the way mine is desire. He oozes it, and it gets into your head and takes root there. Whatever he said to you, he wants you to be afraid and he will say anything to achieve that goal. Do not allow him to have that power over you; you are better than that, better than him in a million different ways.”
Chloe nods, pressing closer to Lucifer, or as close as their growing son allows. She knows he’s right, deep down in her gut, and the more time passes after Michael’s departure, the clearer her thoughts become. Having Lucifer here, holding her, reassuring her, helps to push away the fear, even though she can still feel the tiniest frisson of it lingering. “Okay.”
He leads her back to the couch where Chloe’s trash TV show is still playing in the background, and settles her in the corner, then turns to Teivel. “If Michael comes near her again, he’s all yours,” he tells the hound.
Teivel whuffs his understanding and settles near the Christmas tree as though standing guard. It actually helps Chloe relax a bit. Lucifer doesn’t return to Lux that night; instead, he joins her on the couch with a glass of whiskey and uses ridiculous commentary on her television choices to make Chloe laugh. It works, and she manages to push Michael and his fear-mongering out of her mind.
The Decker family, when Chloe was growing up with John and Penelope, had few traditions, most of which revolved around Christmas, as it was John’s favorite holiday. After he died, so too did most of those traditions, at least until Chloe had her daughter. One of her favorite traditions was Christmas Eve—everyone gets to open two gifts, one of which is a set of matching family pajamas that everyone puts on, then with a mug of hot chocolate, they gather to play games, listen to Christmas music, and watch holiday movies.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the pajamas when Chloe mentioned it, but easily went along with it as he has with every other Decker family activity. Chloe had a vague idea of what she wanted for this year after seeing one of Ella’s t-shirts at work, and spent hours searching for the perfect sets for her little family. Trixie peeked over her shoulder when she was doing her search and was completely on board with the idea—Lucifer would be the only one surprised, and he would either think it amusing and go with it or outright hate it.
So, after another amazing Devil-cooked meal of Shepherd's pie that Chloe and Trixie couldn’t get enough of, they gather around the tree, Chloe perched on the end of the couch since there’s no way she’s sitting on the floor. Trixie passes out the flat boxes wrapped in red and green plaid paper to Chloe and Lucifer, they grin at each other, and tear into the gifts, Chloe’s eyes darting to Lucifer every few seconds. Even Trixie pauses before opening her box to see his reaction.
Lucifer removes the lid of his box, unwraps the green tissue paper...and blinks down at the contents. “Seriously?” he deadpans, looking over at Chloe.
She smirks. “What? I thought it would be fun to go with a theme.”
He holds up the (high-quality) red flannel button-down top...decorated with little cartoon devils. “Are you mocking me, Detective?’ he asks archly, though she can see the laughter in his eyes.
“I would never,” she promises solemnly through twitching lips. “Think about it as...celebrating you. I know you love that.”
He huffs a laugh. “And I’m expected to wear these?” he asks primly.
“It’s tradition, Lucifer! Everyone has to wear the pajamas, that’s what makes it fun,” Trixie says insistently, ripping open her box, pulling out her own flannel Devil pajamas, and jumping to her feet.
“At least it isn’t a onesie,” Chloe says softly to Lucifer, grinning. “I did consider it.”
He stares at her, aghast. “Evil woman,” he murmurs. “I knew there was a reason I loved you. Though I absolutely would have refused a onesie; some things even I can’t pull off.”
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Chloe says without thinking. Lucifer smirks at her, eyes twinkling, but keeps whatever comments he has to himself. “Okay, everyone get changed. Trix, what game are we playing tonight?”
“Exploding Kittens!” Trixie calls over her shoulder as she rushes to her room.
Chuckling, Lucifer pushes himself smoothly to his feet and holds out a hand to help Chloe to hers. “Thank you for my absurd pajamas,” he murmurs, kissing her forehead.
Chloe grins. “You’re welcome. Usually, we just get plain plaid, but I thought this year deserved something a little extra.”
“Well, I am nothing if not extra.” And isn’t that the truth... “Shall we change before the Urchin returns and scolds us?”
Once everyone has a mug of Lucifer’s homemade hot cocoa—the best Chloe has ever tasted—they open their second gift. Trixie’s is the first book in a new series she mentioned wanting to read; Chloe’s is from Lucifer, Lucas’ second sonogram photo—the one where he’s throwing up Devil horns—in a beautiful silver frame; and Lucifer’s gift is from Trixie, a book of Dad jokes. Because that’s exactly what Lucifer needs: more ideas for puns.
The evening is filled with fun and laughter, and as Chloe looks between her daughter, her fiancé, and down at her growing baby, she decides it’s the best Christmas Eve she’s ever had.
And then she comes out of Trixie’s room after tucking her still over-excited yet exhausted daughter in for the night—and receiving her annual warning that Trixie would wake them up at 7 a.m. on the dot. Most of the lights in the penthouse have been switched off, leaving only the fireplace and the tree root chandelier. Lucifer waits for her near the piano and it takes her a moment to realize there is soft music playing—an instrumental version of Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.
“What are you doing?” she asks playfully as she pads across the Italian marble towards him.
Lucifer simply gives her that soft smile she loves and holds out his hand in invitation. “May I have this dance, Detective?” he murmurs when she takes his hand.
Pursing her lips against the most ridiculous smile in the history of the universe, she nods. “You may.”
He pulls her close, threading their fingers together, wrapping his free arm around her waist, while Chloe places her hand on his shoulder. Chloe expects him to guide them around the penthouse in his usual dramatic style; instead, they simply sway to the music, his cheek pressed against hers, his thumb rubbing gentle circles at the small of her back.
“What brought this on?” she asks softly. Not that she’s complaining in the slightest; it’s sweet and romantic, and she’s never felt more loved.
“I just wanted to dance with you,” he murmurs into her ear, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Dancing with you, Chloe, is one of the greatest pleasures of my life.”
Her eyes burn and she presses her face into his neck. The hand she has on his shoulder slides up to cup the back of his head, playing with the little hairs there and making him shiver. “You’re sweet.”
“I am no such thing,” he says without his usual tone of offense. “I simply enjoy holding you.”
“Likewise, Satan,” is all she says, because if she tries to say anything else, she’s likely to burst into tears.
One song fades into the next, and it doesn’t matter that her feet and back hurt; nothing could make her move from Lucifer’s arms in this moment. Swaying with Lucifer on Christmas Eve in the dimly lit penthouse at seven months pregnant...it’s a memory she’ll hold onto no matter how long she lives.
When he finally pulls away from her and brings his hands to her face to kiss her, Chloe forgets every trouble she has—from boredom at work due to being stuck at her desk to annoying archangels trying to get into her head. This is what matters: Her family, happy and safe, and together for the holidays. He carries her to bed bridal-style, where he tenderly removes her pajamas and shifts her onto her side, pressing his bare front to her back, and makes love to her for hours.
The second Decker family tradition is not sleeping in on Christmas morning.
From the time Trixie understood that Christmas means that she gets presents, and could walk, she would wake her parents at the crack of dawn with more exuberance than usual. Chloe instated a rule around the time Trixie learned to read a clock that she had to wait until 7 a.m., mostly because either she or Dan likely had a late shift the night before if they were unable to get Christmas Eve off work.
Chloe warned Lucifer that Trixie would come crashing into their bed at seven on the dot, and there would be no sleeping afterwards. Thankfully, Chloe got him into the habit of not sleeping in the nude when Trixie is in the penthouse months ago and he pulled his pajama bottoms back on after they finished making love last night.
She wakes early on Christmas morning, which she’s mildly miffed about—she didn’t even try to go to sleep until long past midnight, then Lucas decided her womb is actually a bouncy castle. No matter what position she chose, he refused to settle—yep, this is definitely Lucifer’s kid. Already hyperactive and a little frustrating. Still, after emptying her bladder, she returns to bed where Lucifer himself is sleeping soundly on his back, one hand behind his head, the other low on his abdomen. The gold bed sheet is twisted around one of his legs and the other is bent in an angle Chloe cannot imagine being comfortable. Softly snoring with his lips parted, and his hair mussed and curly from her fingers last night, he looks peaceful and adorable.
And tempting.
Glancing at the clock—it’s only 5:30—she peeks out the bedroom towards Trixie’s closed door, and bites her lip, her eyes turning back to Lucifer and landing on his morning erection—and it gives her ideas. Lucifer has told her on many occasions that she is welcome to wake him “however you may desire, Detective, especially if you’re feeling naughty...” Carefully crawling back into bed, she settles on her side beside Lucifer, face level with his hips and slowly begins to lower his pajama bottoms. Lucifer, slut that he is even in a deep sleep, assists by lifting those hips just enough for her to pull them to his knees.
Eyes locked on his face, her hand wraps around him, stroking lightly at first, testing to see if he’ll wake, then a bit more confidently. He hardens further as she works, little involuntary sounds from the back of his throat leaving his lips, and Chloe presses butterfly kisses to his hips. With a growing angel baby in the way, it makes it a bit more difficult, but with the assistance of a pillow below her belly, she’s able to arrange herself so that she can take him in her mouth. At the first warm touch of her lips, Lucifer emits a low groan, still asleep, his hips instinctively following her when she retreats.
It isn’t until she licks a stripe on the underside of his cock that he begins to waken, a questioning hum falling from his lips followed by a sigh when her lips wrap around him again.
“Chloe.” His voice is low and rough from sleep, eyes still closed, though his hand finds the side of her face, stroking lightly in greeting before finding her hair. “Oh...”
Chloe pulls away from him just long enough to say, “Merry Christmas, Lucifer,” before getting back to work.
He lets out a breathy laugh. “Bloody best Christmas ever...” He whimpers when she does that thing he likes with her tongue, his skull pressing hard into the pillow as he bites his lip to avoid crying out in pleasure. “Don’t stop, love.”
She wasn’t planning on it. Although, much as she tends to enjoy drawing this out for him, they’re on a bit of a tight schedule this morning, so she doubles down, moving faster but with no less skill. His hand tightens around the makeshift ponytail he’s made with his fist—a warning she has no intention of heeding. With one last hard suck, he comes hard in her mouth with a low, drawn out groan. Chloe hums around him in satisfaction and triumph, working him through it until the tremors in his muscles stop and he’s making grabby hands at her, signaling for her to climb into his arms.
After cleaning him up as best she can and replacing his pajama bottoms, Chloe awkwardly shuffles up the bed, narrowing her eyes at Lucifer’s teasing twitching lips. Without a word he turns to face her, hand on her cheek to hold her in place, and kisses her thoroughly, humming into her mouth when he tastes himself on her tongue.
“Well, good morning, Detective.” He smiles against her lips. “That was quite the wakeup call.”
Chloe smirks, making herself comfortable on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around her. “Thought you might like that,” she says smugly.
“Oh, I most certainly did,” he purrs, his free hand wandering along her side, then lower, teasing the waistband of her pajama bottoms. “Although, this does leave us a bit...uneven, and you know how I feel about inequality in the bedroom...”
Does she ever... She glances at the clock: 6:24. “Trixie is probably already awake,” she warns him half-heartedly, because his long pianist fingers have just slipped into her panties.
Lucifer lifts himself above her onto his elbow, leaning down to attach his lips to her pulse point. “I can be quick,” he breathes into her skin. And she knows that, too.
Chloe bites her lip and grips his waist when his fingers circle her clit, not quite touching where she wants it most. She gives him a quick nod of consent and feels his smirk against her collarbone and his breathy “lovely” right before he gets to work. Moments later, she’s already panting, pressing her face against his shoulder to muffle her moans. Two long fingers slide easily inside, curling in a come hither motion while his thumb works her clit; all the while, his mouth sucks at her neck, trailing up to her lips and capturing them in a faltering, messy kiss, at least on her end; Lucifer is pure competence, having mastered the way she likes to be touched and kissed months ago.
In less than three minutes, with a press of his thumb and his fingers finding that perfect spot within her, Chloe has to bite against his shoulder to keep from screaming, and she’s shaking in his arms. He works her through it just as expertly, slipping his fingers out of her before it becomes too much, and immediately stuffs them in his own mouth. She watches, dazed, as he hums around his fingers like he’s tasting the most decadent delicacy in the world, cleaning himself. Then he’s leaning in to kiss her again before wrapping her in his arms.
“That’s how we should wake everyday,” he says decidedly into her hair.
Chloe laughs breathlessly against his neck. “Oh, yeah?”
“Do you not agree that a typical boring Wednesday would be improved immeasurably if we did?” he asks incredulously.
She does agree, but she’s not about to tell him that. Instead, she lifts herself onto her elbow and kisses his chin. “Good morning, Lucifer. Merry Christmas,” she says sweetly.
His expression softens. “Yes, Merry Christmas, Chloe,” he murmurs, tucking some hair behind her ear.
“Are you ready for your first Decker family Christmas morning?”
“Perhaps I should retrieve the full-body padded suit for the Urchin’s arrival,” Lucifer muses—and Chloe has no idea if he’s serious or not.
About a month or so into their relationship, Lucifer introduced her to what he calls his Tryst Treasure Trove, and she saw things she still doesn’t know the functionality of, not to mention the outfits. From nurses and doctors, to maids, to ninjas, several different animals, and she thinks she saw an actual NASA astronaut helmet. Though the clown outfit still makes her shudder; she made him burn that thing.
“She knows not to come flying into the bed, elbows first, because of the baby,” she assures him. Her fingers are still absently trailing across Lucifer’s chest, creating constellations between his freckles.
He’s quiet for a moment, watching her, and not for the first time, she wonders what goes on in that brain of his. “To answer your question, yes, I’m rather looking forward to it, actually.”
The way he says it, he’s surprised that he’s looking forward to Christmas morning, and so is Chloe, kind of. Although he hasn’t complained nearly as much as she expected him to throughout the holiday, especially when it came to decorating the penthouse and the tree, she’d gotten the impression he was humoring her and Trixie—at best. But she’s glad that she’s somehow managed to change his mind about the holiday. Or, far more likely, that he’s enjoying it because Chloe and Trixie are the ones he’s spending it with. She doubts anything will ever change his mind about the holiday itself.
At seven o’clock on the dot, they look at each other with wide eyes and twitching lips when they hear the sound of pounding feet followed closely by the lighter tapping of claws against Italian marble, quickly coming in their direction. Lucifer instinctively protects her belly as Trixie and Teivel dive into the huge bed, the former with a huge grin on her face.
“Merry Christmas, Mommy!” she squeals excitedly. “Merry Christmas, Lucifer!”
Chloe smiles, opening her arms in invitation for a hug from her daughter, which she’s immediately granted. “Merry Christmas, baby,” she says into Trixie’s messy hair, then tickles her sides to make her giggle.
“Yes, Merry Christmas, child,” Lucifer adds when the two of them look at him expectantly. He’s preoccupied giving Teivel behind the ear scritches, the Hellhound splayed out in his lap.
Trixie leans in towards Chloe’s belly and presses a kiss there. “Merry Christmas, Lucas. Next year is gonna be so much fun with you here.”
Chloe has to blink back tears. “And you’re going to be such a great big sister, Monkey.”
“I know,” Trixie says simply. “Can we open presents now?”
Chloe rolls her eyes. “After breakfast, just like every year.”
Trixie lets out the most perfect sigh of inconvenience that gives Chloe a look into the future and her daughter’s teenage years. “Fine...” she groans out, rolling her eyes.
Lucifer lifts an eyebrow at Chloe. “You know, she looks just like you when she does that.”
Trixie jumps off the bed and bolts around to Lucifer’s side, grabbing his hand to pull him out of bed so he’ll get started on breakfast—the Devil doesn’t budge even an inch. “If she does this long enough, will she tire herself out?” he asks Chloe.
“That, or give up and try to cook for herself again,” Chloe says, watching their antics with amusement. Lucifer’s eyes widen in horror.
One morning, for reasons only she knows, Trixie decided to cook breakfast for all of them on her own. It resulted in burned omelets, charred yet somehow undercooked bacon, and pancake batter splattered all over the kitchen. Lucifer spent a week finding new places the batter landed. Chloe had never seen him so twitchy. In fact, his eye twitches now at the memory.
Trixie is grunting with exertion while Lucifer just watches her, head cocked and a teasing smirk on his lips. “Come on, Lucifer!”
“Trixie, calm down...” Chloe says with only a fraction of her usual sternness and exasperation. “We’re getting up, and your presents aren’t going anywhere, I promise.”
“But there’s, like, a kajillion new ones out there to get through!” Trixie protests.
Chloe’s eyebrows furrow. She only added a few things to the pile last night before falling asleep when she and Lucifer finished up; it’s one of the reasons she didn’t get enough sleep. But certainly not enough to be considered “a kajillion” even with her daughter’s exaggeration skills. Then she realizes...and her shoulders drop as she glances over to the too-innocent-looking Devil.
“What did you do?” she whispers, uncertain whether she should be annoyed or not.
He just smirks at her. “Must have been Satan Claus,” he says with a shrug.
“You mean Santa Claus?” Trixie corrects him.
Lucifer cocks his head. “Do I?”
When Chloe sees just how many new, unfamiliar gifts there are in the area around the tree, she stares for a few seconds, then decides to just let it go, because...well. It's Lucifer’s first Christmas, and he enjoys each and every opportunity that allows him to spoil the people he loves most—and she’s just too tired to complain about him going overboard. It’s not like he’d actually listen to her complaints, anyway; he’d just smirk at her with those annoyingly adorable, twinkling eyes of his and hand her another gift.
Despite Trixie’s excitement, she allows them some peace while Lucifer is cooking a decadent Christmas breakfast. It seems when he was playing “Satan Claus” last night, he also made dough for his infamous lemon cinnamon rolls that Chloe has a specific weakness for, which Lucifer knows, of course. Between those, the pancakes, bacon, eggs, and stuffed crêpes...the Devil is a menace. It's easily the best Christmas morning Chloe has had since she was a little kid and her dad was still alive as they all laugh and tease each other.
When they finally get back into the main room, Chloe and Lucifer intentionally dragging their feet just to get a reaction from the ten-year-old, said ten-year-old makes them all wear Santa hats. She even has one for Teivel that he is indulgent enough to allow her to put on him. Chloe imagines anyone else might have lost a hand if they tried. Trixie then designates herself to hand out the gifts, which takes a fair bit of time because, well...and she can’t emphasize this enough: Lucifer is absurd.
“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t go overboard?” Chloe teases, leaning against his shoulder.
Lucifer smirks down at her, just as she knew he would. “Perhaps you did, Detective. I made no such promises,” he reminds her. And when Chloe thinks back on that conversation...the bastard is right. “Besides, it’s my understanding that overindulging is part of what makes this ridiculous holiday enjoyable—and the familial aspect, too, I suppose,” he adds quickly. “And the one time of year it is acceptable to spoil one’s kin.”
Chloe’s only complaint, which she isn’t about to bring up right now with Trixie in the room, is that Dan is going to take one look at all the stuff Lucifer bought for her and either feel bad for being unable to match the extravagance of the Devil, or get pissy because the Devil is spoiling his daughter. It won’t matter that Trixie will soon be Lucifer’s stepdaughter, or that Lucifer has no interest or intent in replacing Dan in his daughter’s life. Dan can be...unreasonable about these things, and Chloe isn’t particularly looking forward to hearing his rants for the next three months.
As it turns out, a third of the new gifts are for Lucas, which is really, very sweet, but... “You understand that he’ll be way too young to even understand the concept of toys for months after he’s born, right?”
Lucifer just shrugs. “They aren’t only toys; quite a few of those packages are different selections of clothing and outfits for the first few months. Having seen what Dr. Linda and my brother have been dealing with, I somehow doubt you or I will be eager to go out and purchase him new clothing when he requires it.”
Right, because Lucifer doesn’t have enough contacts in the fashion industry that he couldn’t just place a phone call and have a hundred different options sent directly to them within a couple of hours. She’s already resigned herself that her son will be wearing designer onesies and suits that are identical, miniature versions of his father’s. Lucifer really doesn’t understand that children grow like weeds and couldn’t care less about the labels on their clothes; they’ll happily roll around in dirt wearing Prada or clothes from Wal-Mart and Target with equal enthusiasm. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.
Probably the latter.
Chloe eyes her pile a bit warily. There are quite a few small, jewelry-sized boxes sitting in front of her. While she will be appreciative of whatever Lucifer has gotten her, she’s never been the type to wear much jewelry—it’s a hazard in her line of work, and simply not her style, save a few special pieces.
“You needn’t look so frightened, darling,” he murmurs amusedly. “I think you’ll like your gifts.”
“I have no doubt that I will,” she assures him, “because they’re from you. I guess I’m still getting used to being spoiled.”
Lucifer hums. “I’ve never had anyone to spoil, Chloe,” he says seriously, “let alone somebody I want to spoil. And since I have the resources, well...”
“You don’t have to buy our love, you know,” she tells him in a murmur, hoping against hope that isn’t what he’s doing. She’s spent nearly a year trying to get this man to understand that all she needs from him is for him to be himself; she doesn’t need the bells and whistles, neither does Trixie and nor will their son. He’s enough as he is.
His eyebrows furrow. “I know that,” he says simply, and she can see the truth of it shining in his eyes. “You have made that perfectly clear, Detective; I simply enjoy giving you things you would never purchase for yourself. It brings me joy.”
Chloe finds she doesn’t have an argument for that. The truth is, even after nearly a year, Lucifer is still getting used to some aspects of being in a relationship, and he’s always been generous, so of course, he’s going to want to show his love by doing things like this. He is who he is.
“Okay,” she says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. He turns his head at the last second so that her lips land on his, not that she has complaints. “Thank you for our gifts.” Lucas throws a kick to her ribs. “Lucas also says thank you.” She winces, rubbing the aching spot.
Lucifer chuckles. “You’re most welcome.”
“Okay. I think that’s it for everyone who’s here,” Trixie finally announces breathlessly, settling down in the middle of her gigantic pile.
“Go to town, then, Monkey,” Chloe says lazily, already smiling as she watches her daughter dive for the nearest gift.
While they wait for Trixie to get through her stack, Lucifer has Chloe arrange herself so that he can give her a foot massage when he spots her stretching her feet because they ache. She doesn’t even try to protest; she’s fairly sure the only reason she doesn’t spend much time complaining about her sore feet and ankles is due to Lucifer’s frequent massages. She’s also sure his fingers are literally magic; as soon as he touches her, the misery recedes.
Trixie cheers with every new gift she opens—from books and board games, to clothes and shoes, to a new pair of rollerblades and even a bicycle they hid behind the bar (though that one was actually on her list, and the big gift Chloe approved Lucifer buying), to a new telescope. Trixie’s big gift from her parents this year is a Nintendo Switch and a couple games. Lucifer expanded on that with three more games and a gift card for her to pick out her own (Chloe doesn’t even want to know the amount on that card...).
Lucifer also gave her a “certificate” that awards her a day before the baby is born for the two of them to spend together, doing whatever Trixie wants to do with the addendum that Chloe gets vetoing powers on the chosen activity. Trixie practically leaps across her gift pile and the coffee table into the Devil’s arms to thank him, while Chloe watches them with tears in her eyes and a smile on her lips. The fact that Lucifer even thought to offer such a thing... Then again, he was probably thinking about their conversation when Chloe was irrationally worried that Trixie would begin to feel left out after the baby is born, because Chloe and Lucifer would be spending all their spare time with him and unable to take her out to do things for months. The man is going to make her heart burst with love.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Trixie says into Lucifer’s shoulder. “I can’t wait!”
Lucifer rather awkwardly pats her back, still a bit uncertain when it comes to Trixie’s enthusiastic affection. “Yes, you’re quite welcome, Urchin,” he says, eyes shining with fondness.
“And thank you for all my other gifts, too. And you, too, Mommy.” Trixie’s hug for her mother is more cautious. “I love everything.”
“I’m glad, Monkey, and you’re very welcome.”
Trixie backs away and looks at them expectantly. “Okay, now you gotta open your presents! Here, Lucifer, open this one first!” She darts around and digs through Lucifer’s pile to hand him a cube-shaped box that’s messily wrapped...with a lot of scotch tape. “That one’s from me!”
“You don’t say,” he mutters, eyeing the box like it’s going to bite him. Chloe digs her toes into his ribs. He squirms away when she finds his one ticklish spot. “Detective! Unnecessary violence, and in front of your offspring no less! How incredibly inappropriate of you! Well done.”
Trixie giggles, practically vibrating on the spot—this is why Chloe normally limits her sugar intake for breakfast... “Hurry up, Lucifer!”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow, mischief in his eyes, and Chloe just knows he’s going to be difficult on purpose. And he is—taking his time pulling each individual piece of tape off, then slowly removes the wrapping paper. For a second, Chloe thinks Trixie is going to snatch it from him to shred it open herself. Finally, when even Chloe is starting to get impatient, Lucifer is holding a plain white box in his hand. Inside, wrapped in red tissue paper is a red coffee mug that Trixie obviously decorated herself. There’s a large black heart with a Devil horn coming out of each top half and white wings on either side. In the center of the heart, also in white, is “World’s Best Step-Devil”.
The World’s Best Step-Devil stares expressionlessly and silently at the mug in his hands, cradling it gently as his eyes trace every inch of it like he’s trying to memorize it. Chloe can see just the slightest tremble to his bottom lip that wouldn’t be noticeable unless one knew him well.
Trixie is watching him expectantly. “Don’t you like it, Lucifer?” she asks, her exuberance starting to wane the longer Lucifer doesn’t say anything.
“Give him a sec, Monkey,” Chloe says gently. Lucifer? You okay?
Suddenly, he sucks in a breath like he’s been holding it, blinking rapidly over wet eyes. “Forgive me. Yes, Urchin, this is...quite lovely, thank you.” Chloe can hear the emotion in his voice. He turns it to show Chloe, sliding his mask back in place just enough to hide how deeply touched he is. He grins slyly. “Better than Daniel’s, no?”
Chloe gives him a look and rolls her eyes. “It is not a contest,” she says firmly.
But if it were, I’d be the undeniable winner .
The bastard is smirking, but Chloe hears something deeper in his words and it causes a lump to form in her throat. She knows what he’s really saying: Because he has Chloe and Trixie, and soon, Lucas, Lucifer is the clear winner of...anything and everything.
Holding the mug in one hand, he extends his arm, gesturing with his fingers for Trixie to come over and give him a hug. Trixie blinks in surprise, because Lucifer never initiates hugs with her, then with a huge smile, rushes over and throws her arms around his neck again. Lucifer says something into Trixie’s ear, too quietly for Chloe to hear, but it sparks Trixie to tighten her hug and nod fiercely into his shoulder. When they part, Lucifer carefully sets his new mug on the coffee table directly in front of him, discreetly wiping at his eyes when Trixie turns away for a minute.
“Right, then! Onto the next...”
One of the gifts Chloe got for him is a high-quality, black leather family photo album, currently containing some of her favorite selfies of herself and Lucifer, and some with Trixie. It gets the same reaction as Trixie’s coffee mug, and the kiss Lucifer gives her in gratitude is definitely not appropriate in front of a ten-year-old. Not that Trixie seems at all affected; her response is to shrug and say that she’s seen worse from Maze and Eve. Chloe makes a mental note to remind her friends what is and is not inappropriate in front of a child.
Next for Lucifer is a set of cufflinks. Of course, Chloe would have to sell everything she owns to get the quality Lucifer would normally pick out, but she thinks he’ll like these. Or she hopes so, at least. Tiny, silver handcuffs engraved with the date they officially became partners and their initials—Chloe’s on one cufflink, Lucifer’s on the other.
“Well, now I can’t wait to put on a suit today,” he says cheerfully, eyes shining meaningfully. “Thank you, Detective.”
Chloe smiles into the more child-appropriate kiss.
Chloe also picked out the nicest quality button-down dress shirt she could afford without maxing out her credit cards—a dark red silk one that he immediately puts on, completing it with his new cufflinks. He spends a minute or so admiring the combination. “Lovely choice, darling.”
And from Trixie, a stack of drawings starring the two of them, a black and red friendship bracelet with little letter beads of their initials, as well as a giant bag of Lucifer’s favorite gummy bears and a family-size bag of Cool Ranch Puffs.
“Ooh... Love me a gummy. Thank you, Urchin!”
Chloe also got Lucifer a few other gifts, but those are decidedly not child-appropriate; she’ll give them to him later.
“Okay, Mommy, your turn now!”
Chloe glances at the clock, it’s nearly 9:00 a.m. “Hey, Monkey, unlock the elevator for your dad and Charlotte; they should be here soon.”
Lucifer curls his lip and grumbles, but it’s mostly (if not all) for show. “Open this one first, Detective.” He hands her one of the small jewelry box-sized packages.
Smiling, Chloe does as instructed, and indeed finds a rectangular red velvet box inside. And inside that... “Oh, Lucifer...it’s beautiful...” It’s a necklace, either silver or white gold, or maybe platinum, she isn’t sure, with a baby feet pendant. Only one is engraved—the back says, Trixie and the front is her birthdate and a tiny aquamarine stone—Trixie’s birthstone. The other is blank.
“We can get it engraved after the little gremlin makes his debut,” he tells her softly. “I considered saving it for a later date, but...well.”
“Impatient Devil,” she murmurs, running her finger over her daughter’s birthstone. “Thank you, I love it. Put it on me?”
Lucifer smiles and takes the necklace from her as she turns away from him. Once he’s put it in place, he presses a sweet kiss to the back of her neck. He’s also gotten her a beautiful tennis bracelet with stones of varying shades of blue—it takes her a minute to realize the stones are exactly the same colors as her wings. He’s also given her a gorgeous picture frame with a copy of the very first selfie they took after getting together.
They'd been in bed here at the penthouse, hair mussed, eyes shining, and both of them with dopey, lovestruck smiles on their faces. Chloe is covered from the shoulders down by a sheet and she’s draped over Lucifer’s bare chest, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. Lucifer’s eyes, full of love and astonishment, are on her rather than the camera.
Next from Lucifer are a maternity-sized black leather jacket, some books she wanted to read, and a pair of diamond teardrop earrings. Finally, there’s a certificate at a spa called Tomoko for a day of pregnancy pampering.
From Trixie, she also gets a mug that says “World’s Best Mommy!” with a set of silver handcuffs and a bunch of hearts and stars, and a stack of drawings. There’s also a homemade book of coupons that Chloe can redeem in exchange for things like household chores, doing the dishes for a week, doing her homework without complaint, and letting Chloe sleep in as long as she wants.
“Thank you so much, Monkey! I love these presents.” Chloe hugs her daughter tightly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And I love you so very much.”
“You’re welcome, Mommy, I love you, too. Can I unwrap Teivel’s presents for him?”
Once she gets the go-ahead, she’s ripping through more wrapping paper, showing the Hellhound each gift—new rawhides, new toys, an outdoor doggy bed for the balcony, and what looks to be a very large container of...raw meat...?
Chloe and Trixie look at Lucifer with matching confused, mildly disgusted looks. “What?” he asks, twisting his new cufflinks. “He deserves a treat every now and again, does he not?”
“Should that have been left out overnight?” Chloe asks, a bit revolted.
Lucifer waves off her concern. “It's packed with dry ice. And even if it weren’t, I assure you he’s eaten much worse in Hell.”
“Gross,” Trixie says, crinkling her nose. Chloe silently agrees.
When Dan and Charlotte finally arrive, having gotten caught behind a nasty accident on the 405, Trixie rushes to greet them, while Lucifer retrieves a trash bag and picks up the pile of loose, shredded wrapping paper. Chloe wonders how long he’s been itching to do that; her fiancé can be incredibly OCD sometimes.
“Hey, Chlo, hey, Lucifer. Merry Christmas,” Dan says jovially, wearing his own Santa hat.
Greetings are exchanged, and Trixie goes to town on more gifts from her father and Charlotte. It takes Chloe a minute to notice the other two adults aren’t really paying more than the barest attention to the excited child on the floor—they keep sending each other the same goofy, lovestruck looks she’s sure she and Lucifer exchanged after—
Chloe’s hand drifts to Charlotte’s hand and she barely manages to stifle a surprised gasp; though she really wants to ask, it’s their news to share and she refuses to ruin it for them. Instead, she turns back to her daughter, biting back a smile.
Trixie gets more books, board games, clothes, and a couple of card games. Dan makes no mention of the expensive gifts from Lucifer littering the penthouse—either he doesn’t notice because he’s too wrapped up in Charlotte, or he doesn’t care. Chloe bets on the former.
Lucifer, the consummate host, makes drinks for everybody and brings out freshly-warmed cinnamon rolls. Dan finally decides to make the announcement.
“So, Charlotte and I have something to share with you guys...” he says a bit nervously, exchanging a look with Charlotte, who looks poised and unruffled but overjoyed. Trixie looks up eagerly. “We’re getting married!” Charlotte smiles and holds out her hand for them to see the ring on her finger.
Be nice! Chloe warns Lucifer—the diamond on Charlotte’s finger is beautiful, and what Dan could afford. Lucifer can be cluelessly rude about such things on occasion.
Lucifer sends her an affronted look, but keeps his mouth shut while Trixie cheers and Chloe offers congratulations. “Yes, congratulations, Daniel, dear Charlotte. It’s about time,” he says genuinely.
“Yeah, well, we couldn’t let you two have the entire spotlight,” Dan says good-naturedly, smiling like he’s wondering how he got so lucky.
The rest of the morning is spent with Trixie exploring her toys and the adults talking about their respective weddings—neither couple has set a date, though Chloe is narrowing one down for herself and Lucifer. Lucifer warns Dan to get high-quality earplugs when he tells Ella about his and Charlotte’s engagement. For lunch, Chloe and Lucifer cook egg sandwiches and a light salad for everyone, and afterwards, Trixie gathers her things, including some of her presents, and leaves with Dan and Charlotte.
Almost the moment they’re out the door, Lucifer looks nervous. “There is...something else I have for you, Detective,” he says quietly, “though I thought it more prudent to give you this particular gift in private.”
Her initial thought is that it’s sex-related, but at this point in their relationship, there is absolutely no way Lucifer would be nervous about sex with her. Or about sex in general; the man has zero shame. Chloe admires that about him.
“Okay,” she says just as quietly, watching him curiously.
“One moment...” He stands and strides over to the desk and removes a folder of some kind. When he rejoins her, he doesn’t hand it to her immediately. “Now, I fully understand that this is not something that you need, or even necessarily desire to have, Detective, and it is my intention that you should never need to make use of it. However, as neither of us is capable of seeing the future, we can’t promise that life will always go as we plan. In that spirit, I would like you to have this.”
Okay, now she’s nervous. “What is it?” She takes the folder and opens it slowly. For several long moments, she stares at what looks to be legal paperwork of some sort, then flips through a few pages, all of which contain numbers that make her brain explode. Turning back to the first page, she focuses and reads...and her jaw drops. “Lucifer...are you sure?”
He gives her that soft smile she loves, reaching for one of her hands. “Of course I’m sure,” he says just as softly. “Chloe, it has always been the case that what’s mine is yours, even before we became partners in everything. Six months into our partnership, I had paperwork drawn up for a trust fund for the Urchin and ensuring you’d never have to work another day in your life if you desired it—which I knew you would not, but the point is, I wanted you to have it. My lawyer only just talked me out of leaving you everything should I suddenly have to depart.”
Chloe’s jaw drops. He gently taps it closed with two fingers. “You have always been the most important person in my universe, Chloe; is it so surprising that I would go to such lengths for you?”
And...no. No, it’s really not. Because of course Lucifer would do something insane like sign a fortune over to someone he’s only known for six months. Now, almost two and a half years, an engagement, pregnancy, and everything they’ve been through later... She really should not be surprised that he’s giving her half of everything he owns; and should something happen that he has to leave, everything goes to Chloe—bank accounts, properties, cars, Lux.
“I...don’t know what to say, Lucifer.”
He huffs wryly. “You needn’t say anything,” he assures her. “I know even for me this is quite an extravagant gift. Both my lawyer and my accountant spent days trying to change my mind—I nearly fired my lawyer when he suggested a bloody prenuptial agreement,” he says the words as though they’re disgusting with a curl of his lip. “As bloody if.”
Prenuptial agreement. Yeah, that...hadn’t even crossed her mind to be a possible issue for them. “I mean, it is kind of standard practice, especially with somebody as wealthy as you are, Lucifer,” she says awkwardly.
“No,” he says firmly, eyes faintly anguished. “Chloe, if you were to leave me, you may as well take everything, because I am nothing without you as it is. And I don’t say that to guilt you into staying with me, I would never do that. It’s a simple fact, darling.
“This,” he taps the folder with his pointer finger, “is merely a way of ensuring that you, our son, and the Urchin are taken care of should the unforeseen happen. And as a way of showing you that we are, indeed, equals in our upcoming marriage, as we are currently. You needn’t change nor do anything with it if you do not so wish. I want you to have this.” His eyes are pleading suddenly. “I must care for my family; I will not be like my father.”
“You’re not,” she says instantly and fiercely. “Lucifer, you are nothing like Him and you never could be, that just isn’t who you are.” She swallows, looking down at the folder in her hands that represents more wealth than she can possibly comprehend.
She has been feeling a bit...uneasy when it comes to their differences financially; no matter how hard she works in her life, she could never match Lucifer’s wealth. If they were to ever buy a house together, given Lucifer’s preferences, she would only be able to contribute a fraction of the cost—a tiny fraction. Her father taught her from a young age to be independent in all things, except when it comes to love. She should always be able to stand on her own two feet without depending on somebody else to care for her, even in marriage.
But Lucifer knows that about her, and he’s always encouraged her to remain independent. And they’re getting married (eventually); they’ll share everything, including the numbers in this folder. Would it really be going against her independent, feminist ideals to accept this gift from her fiancé, no matter how insane it is?
She doesn’t think so.
“Okay,” she says quietly, meeting Lucifer’s surprised gaze.
His eyebrows furrow. “Okay? That’s it? I was expecting...I don’t know, some sort of argument that it’s too outrageous.”
“I mean, it is, but I understand what you’re trying to do. And you’re right, if something were to happen to you, I’d have two kids on a detective salary, and unfortunately, that isn’t much. Our kids should be able to live without worrying about what comes next or where the next meal is coming from, I don’t ever want them to worry about money. So...okay, I accept your gift. Thank you, Lucifer.” She leans forward and presses a kiss to his stunned lips. As she’s backing away, though, he chases and catches her, immediately deepening the kiss and threading his fingers through her hair.
When she backs away, they’re both panting and kiss-drunk, and the folder has fallen to the floor.
“I love you,” Lucifer murmurs, pressing their foreheads together. “So bloody much.”
Chloe smiles, kissing his chin. “I love you, too. Merry Christmas, Lucifer.”
He smiles back, his eyes shining with adoration. “Merry Christmas, my love.”
Notes:
I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! Much more to come! I promise there is a plot somewhere in this story. And the baby will arrive soon. Thank you for reading!!
Chapter Text
Christmas was always a holiday at which Lucifer looked with utter derision and intense dislike: an entire seasonal holiday celebrating the birth of a man, who was actually born in the springtime, and wasn’t the son of God so much as a PR scheme. That whole desert thing was blown entirely out of proportion, too; Lucifer simply offered him some water and a toke of some herbs he’d gotten off a bloke in a nearby settlement. And the “resurrection”? If the Christians only knew the truth...
The point is, Christmas is usually a time when Lucifer avoids Earth on his visits, but since his retirement from Hell, he’s usually spent it with someone else who doesn’t celebrate, and when he was quite lucky, several someones. His name is never more maligned than during this time of year between the carols and everybody trying to “renounce Satan”, when every other time of year, they can’t bloody resist him. It gets old. Quickly.
This year, however...
Well, he has many reasons to not hate it this year, beginning with his fiancée, unborn son, and not quite stepdaughter. Chloe and Trixie have been wonderful for the last month or so, when they announced they would be celebrating—with him. They’ve included him in all their little traditions from decorating the penthouse and the tree, to joyriding wealthy neighborhoods in search of the best lights display (he was actually rather impressed with some), to hanging their “First Christmas” ornaments (silly as it may seem to some, Lucifer will cherish his for eternity), to the gift exchange.
And do you know, he actually quite enjoyed himself. Oh, he complained plenty at some aspects—namely, the music he was forced to endure for a month—but more than once he found himself standing at the bar, looking around his festively bedecked home from the fairy lights on the railing of the staircase, to that ridiculous reindeer by the elevator, to the lavishly ornamented tree, smiling and never feeling more at home.
And yes, Michael did do his level best to ruin everything for him—at least, Lucifer assumes that was his twin’s goal with those little visits—but not even that, nor the unwelcome reminder of his former name, was enough to completely break his peace.
Christmas Day itself was rather a surprising delight (and he isn’t referring to that phenomenal, soul-altering blow job wake-up call, either). It was spending the morning with the people he loves most, watching them thoroughly enjoy the gifts he so carefully chose for them. And seeing two of his dear friends finally getting their acts together by committing themselves to one another for life—that, more than anything, makes him want to sit Chloe down and set a date for their wedding.
Then it was joining his brother, sort of sister-in-law, and their infant daughter at their home for dinner. Maze and Eve had, indeed, popped in as well, and it was quite the evening. He was even able to find some spectacular wine with zero percent alcohol content for the two ladies in attendance who were unable to drink so they could partake in the festivities.
He’d never admit it to anybody except Chloe, but Lucifer also rather enjoyed spending time with his little fledgling niece. All he could think about was that in a few months, he would be holding his own child—his son, Lucas—and though she couldn’t do much more than hold a rattle and shake it a bit, Emmeline Martin was fascinating to him. More than once while holding her, he would glance over at Chloe to find her already watching him, the same thoughts he’d had clearly running through her own mind if the smile on her lips was any indication.
The gift exchange portion of the evening was quite interesting, as well. Lucifer had given his brother the name of his tailor and prepaid time to upgrade Amenadiel’s bloody JCPenney wardrobe. For Dr. Linda, Sigmund Freud’s personal journal, because he knew she would find it captivating. Maze received an ancient Samurai sword from his collection that she’s had her eye on since the mid-12th century. And for Eve, a rare Middlemist red Camellia flower that he (not strictly legally) had imported from New Zealand.
In exchange, Amenadiel gave him an apron with a large cartoon Devil printed on it above the phrase Lucifer loathes most in the universe: “The Devil Made Me Do It”. Lucifer threatened to strangle his brother with the apron before Chloe intervened—and Amenadiel then gave him his real gift, a flask made of celestial steel with his initials engraved in the lower left-hand corner. Linda gifted him a variety of candies she offers her patients during sessions that he tends to snag for himself. From Maze, an incredibly rare bottle of 1937 Glenfiddich whiskey. And Eve was thinking along the same lines he had, and gave him a lovely Devil’s snare plant—at which Chloe had raised concerns about its toxicity and hallucinogenic properties. Lucifer fully expects the plant to disappear from the penthouse simply for the safety of the small human running amok.
And then, when they arrived home, Lucifer learned that Chloe had yet another gift for him and instructed him to go to the balcony and wait for fifteen minutes so she could “prepare”. When those fifteen minutes were up, he eagerly made his way to the bedroom...and his knees nearly gave out—there is now a Devil-shaped handprint in the Assyrian antique wall where it saved him.
Chloe was lounged in their bed wearing a sheer, red silk babydoll nightie and green panties tied like little Christmas bows at her hips. On the bed beside her was an item he didn’t recognize as part of his own personal toy collection—which meant Chloe picked it out herself, and oh, does he wish he’d been part of that shopping expedition.
Lucifer had never stripped so quickly in his life, and nearly pelted his partner in the head with a shirt button in his eagerness to get to her. The night had been one to remember and he instantly gets rock hard every time he thinks about it, even nearly a week later.
The next milestone holiday is New Year’s Eve. For the last eight years that Lucifer has been on Earth, Lux has thrown the best, wildest, most exclusive parties for this particular night. He’s invited Chloe to the previous two, but she declined both invitations, to his immense disappointment. Not this year, though. When he brought it up one evening while they watched TV and he rubbed her sore, swollen feet, he hadn’t expected her to accept this year, either, for obvious unborn reasons. So it was quite the surprise when she smiled and said she’d be there.
”After all, can’t have all those women and men thinking they get a chance to kiss you at midnight,” she told him slyly.
So, for the first time ever, the Devil has his very own New Year’s Eve date. He can’t bloody wait. He’s even gone so far as to send Chloe to his tailor for the perfect dress of her choice so that he could match his suit. As of yet, he hasn’t actually seen her dress, but he knows it is dark red with black swirls, and he already knows she’s going to look exquisite.
His own suit jacket matches the pattern of her dress, and is paired with black trousers, the dark red dress shirt Chloe gifted him for Christmas, and the sample from Chloe’s dress as his pocket square. Naturally, he’s wearing his engraved handcuff cufflinks and his usual red-soled Louboutins. Once he’s perfected his hair, trimmed his beard, and applied his eyeliner, he heads out to the bar for a drink.
Tonight, Trixie is at her best friend Teagen’s house for their own little New Year’s slumber party—the Urchin has been talking of nothing else all week. This frees up both of her parents, so Daniel will be accompanying Charlotte, Linda and Amenadiel hired a sitter for their offspring, Miss Lopez has just returned from Detroit, and Maze and Eve wouldn’t miss a party like this for anything. Lucifer is set to perform for his subjects, as Chloe likes to refer to Lux’s patrons—he can’t disagree with her assertion. It should be quite the evening, especially if—
Bloody buggering hell.
The Devil nearly chokes on the whiskey Maze gave him for Christmas—which would be a damn shame, truly—when his Detective strides down the steps of their bedroom, a smirk on her lips as she approaches him. Her hair is pulled back into a stylish, messy bun, a few strands left loose and hanging around her face. She’s gone for a smoky eye look with her eyeshadow, a slightly darker blush than she would normally use, just over her cheekbones, and a dark red lipstick—and that’s all quite lovely.
But he’s focused on her dress. Her just low-cut enough for a hint of cleavage, long-sleeved, knee-length maxi skirt dress. Dark red with black swirls, just as promised. For shoes, she’s wearing black, flat, red-soled sandals, and Lucifer certainly can’t fault her for not wearing heels, given how sore her feet have been the last few months of her pregnancy. He suddenly desires nothing more than to have those sandals around his ears. The way the dress hangs, unless one is really looking at her, it’s unlikely they’ll immediately know she’s pregnant at all, which Lucifer imagines was the goal.
“Chloe,” he purrs seductively as she reaches him, “you are breathtakingly exquisite.”
She runs a hand along his chest and he leans into her touch. “You’re not so bad yourself, Satan.” She bites her lip, looking him up and down appreciatively.
In return, he slides his hand along her waist and around her back, tugging her closer. “Hmm... Do you know, I’ve the sudden urge to say bugger it all and stay in,” he murmurs, leaning down and brushing his nose alongside hers.
Chloe smiles, unnecessarily straightening his lapels. “Tempting...” she says slowly, and for a moment, he thinks he’s got her, and then, “but no. I just spent the last two hours getting ready, and this will probably be one of the last times I go out until after Lucas is born. And our friends are waiting for us.”
“Oh, I rather think they’d understand...”
Pursing her lips against another smile, she shakes her head. “Not happening, sorry.”
Sighing his disappointment, Lucifer concedes the loss. “Very well, I suppose I can share you with the plebeian masses for a little while, if you absolutely insist.”
“Oh, I do.”
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes, knowing it was a lost battle from the beginning, but it made her smile, so it was worth it. “You truly do look spectacular, Chloe.”
“Thank you. And thank you for the dress. Alejandro was lovely.”
“Hmm. Yes, he’s quite smitten with you, actually; I might be worried if I didn’t know he and his husband are wildly in love.” Chloe laughs, he smiles, then he kisses her like he wanted to kiss her the moment she walked down those stairs. Tugging lightly with his teeth on her bottom lip as he pulls away, Lucifer smiles as she wipes lipstick off his lips. “If you are so intent on leaving the penthouse this evening rather than me ripping this dress straight off you, I highly suggest you lead the way, Detective.”
She narrows her eyes and points at him in warning. “No ripping this dress, Morningstar.”
He smirks, twisting his cufflinks. “We’ll see,” he mutters into his whiskey glass as he finishes it off.
“What was that?” she asks, halfway to the elevator.
“Nothing, darling,” he sing-songs, following her.
The party is in full swing when the elevator doors open to Lux’s level, and they step out arm in arm, Chloe a bit dazed after how they spent their journey from the penthouse—her, pressed up against the wall as Lucifer did his best to turn her into a puddle of Detective goo. She is just mindful enough to check her reflection in the elevator door to see whether her makeup is smudged—it isn’t. She looks perfect.
The music is loud, the crowds are milling about on the mezzanine and below, on the dance floor, and Lucifer can practically smell the excitement and desire in the air. All heads turn in their direction as they make their way to the staircase, people casting both of them admiring glances—as well as some jealous ones in Chloe’s direction. And a few envious ones are sent at him, which make him smirk. Here and there, someone tries to get his attention, and they’ll stop to say hello, working the room like the power couple Miss Lopez and Dr. Linda insist they are (Lucifer can’t argue with the label).
A glance across the club confirms their friends are already enjoying themselves, so at the bar, Lucifer orders his usual whiskey while Patrick prepares one of his infamous mocktails (his skill has grown in the months Chloe has been pregnant, clearly trying to impress the Queen of Lux, a title to which Chloe doesn’t seem to know how to react). Lucifer keeps a protective arm around Chloe as they head towards their booth to avoid any drunk patrons bumping into her, though it seems unnecessary, as the crowd parts for them—better safe than sorry. And he simply enjoys having his arm around her.
“Well, all hail the King and Queen,” Maze drawls only partly mockingly as they approach, holding up her drink in greeting.
The others, most of them clearly on their way to positively smashed, cheer at their arrival. “Yes, yes, lovely to see you all.” Lucifer smirks at Chloe’s blushing eyeroll at the attention as he guides her into the booth. “Glad to see you could all make it.”
Though he’d never be caught dead admitting it (to anyone but Chloe), it warms his heart to see all of his friends gathered in one place. Real friends, that is, not the ones with whom he used to surround himself; rather, ones who aren’t here because they want something from him, or a piece of him, and will disappear the moment they get it. He would have been hesitant to label it as such until recently, but they are his family—his found family—and Lucifer would drop everything for any one of them, even the Douche. The only one missing is the Urchin.
The evening progresses with the consumption of enough booze to fell an elephant, and while Chloe doesn’t seem all that inclined to dance the night away with her Tribe, she does join them for a few songs, as does Lucifer, until it’s time for his piano set. He’s been looking forward to this all week, ever since he sat down to start planning it out, getting Chloe’s opinion on his setlist.
To cheers and applause, he approaches his piano, takes a sip of his whiskey and begins a rousing set of classic rock songs that lasts nearly forty-five minutes. Lux’s walls shake with the rapturous cheers and applause he receives at the end before the DJ turns back on the club music, and he’s immediately swamped by admirers, several of whom attempt to turn his eye in vain. Accepting the genuine praise, and turning away the dejected hopefuls, he makes his way back to his friends.
“That was amazing, Lucifer,” Ella cheerfully praises, leaning across the table. Lucifer makes a mental note to get the young woman some water; he’d seen the amount of liquor Maze and Eve have been feeding her, and it’s his understanding that alcohol-poisoning is a miserable experience. “So freaking good!”
Most of the others throw out their own compliments (Maze just seems bored as ever, though he’d seen her dancing and singing along with a few songs), but the only opinion he particularly cares for belongs to the one sitting to his right. He lifts hopeful eyebrows at Chloe, and she smiles.
“That was really great, babe, so much fun,” she says genuinely.
Lucifer beams proudly.
“Chlo, please tell me he sings for you at home?” Miss Lopez says hopefully, all drunken heart eyes.
Chloe snorts a laugh, grinning at him. “Can barely get him to stop,” she says wryly.
“And you love every moment of it,” Lucifer says confidently.
She tilts her head to the side, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Do I?”
“Absolutely. Right, then, we need shots,” Lucifer announces, bumping shoulders with Chloe. “It’s two hours to midnight and I fully intend to ring in the new year properly.”
“Not like you can get drunk,” Maze snarks across from him.
“Neither can you, Mazikeen, but that has never once stopped you.”
She juts her bottom lip out, eyebrows raised, and nods. “Good point. SHOTS!”
A couple minutes later, a tray of tequila shots is being delivered to the table and Lucifer carefully passes them out, ensuring Chloe and Dr. Linda receive their non-alcoholic apple juice, then lifts his glass towards the center of the table.
“To lovely friends, an overall bloody brilliant year, and hope for the future.” His eyes dart from Chloe to her belly. She smiles softly at him. “Happy New Year, my darlings, and may the next be even better, yes?”
They all clink their glasses and throw back their shots, cheering, before heading off to the dance floor again. His little group doesn’t drift far from one another, switching partners seemingly at random. Even Amenadiel seems to be enjoying himself for a change—though Lucifer must get his brother dance lessons, if only so he isn’t so much an embarrassment. Still, he’s too perfectly wrapped up in his Detective to pay mind to anything else, and he’s pleased that she’s enjoying herself as much as he. He’d been concerned the side effects of her pregnancy would make her too miserable to have fun, and while she does take frequent breaks—both to the washroom and to rest her feet—she’s been right back on the floor with everyone else after a brief respite.
At 11:30, the DJ makes the announcement that champagne to ring in the New Year will be made available—one glass per patron, on the house (which cost Lucifer a pretty penny, but is worth it when he hears just how appreciative his party guests are). And at 11:45, the fifteen-minute warning is made, and Lucifer has plans...
“Shall we head upstairs, darling?” he says into Chloe’s ear as she moves, her back to his chest, his hands cradling their baby in her belly protectively.
Chloe tilts her head back curiously. “You don’t want to stay until midnight?” she asks skeptically.
He smiles. “I thought we could ring in the new year in private, just the three of us.”
“Three of us?” Lucifer rubs her belly pointedly, smirking. She presses her lips against a smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
They quickly say goodbye to their friends—Maze making lewd suggestions about why they’re cutting out early, and while Miss Lopez pouts drunkenly, she’s quickly distracted by a young gentleman asking her to dance. Daniel assures Chloe he’ll keep an eye on their friend and make sure she gets home safely. Chloe and Lucifer wind their way back through the crowd to the staircase. Lucifer only has to yank his jacket sleeve away from grabby hands twice. It’s an improvement from last year when he tried to get away from the party early for less enjoyable reasons. All he thought about throughout the evening was Chloe and how she was probably spending New Year’s Eve with Pierce; later, he learned that wasn’t the case, that she’d been at home, with her Urchin.
“So, wanna tell me why we’re not staying downstairs until midnight?” Chloe requests, her hand in his.
Lucifer shrugs. “I thought this would be more...us,” he says simply. “And I’d like you all to myself at midnight.”
She feigns cluelessness. “What happens at midnight?”
He gives her his best Devilish grin, tongue pressing against his cheek as he makes a show of eyeing her appreciatively. “Why, I snog you senseless, of course,” he purrs seductively.
Chloe laughs, which was his goal. “I was getting a bit tired, though I thought it would happen much earlier. Apparently, your son already enjoys a good party.”
Lucifer nods, satisfied and proud. “Good lad.”
Out on the balcony is an ice bucket with a bottle of sparkling grape juice, just as he’d requested, and two glasses awaiting them. He pours them each a glass, handing one to Chloe, and at five minutes to midnight, they’re perfectly on time.
“I know I’ve said it before, but I want to reiterate...this has been the best year of my life, Chloe, despite the few low points that we’ve faced, and I look forward to spending this next year—and every year after that—with you,” he says softly, reaching out to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear.
She gives him that soft, sweet smile that makes every awful moment in his existence utterly worth it. “So do I, Lucifer,” she whispers, her eyes bright even in the dark. “I know it took us some time to get here, even if we both had our reasons, but I have never been happier or felt more complete than when I’m with you. I love you so much, Lucifer.”
Feeling rather choked up himself, he nods. “As I love you, Chloe.” From somewhere in the distance, he can hear a faint countdown from five...he slides a hand to Chloe’s waist, gently pulling her closer. Four...he leans in, resting his forehead against hers. Three...her free hand finds his chest, right above his heart. Two...they tilt their faces towards each other.
One...
He kisses her slowly, thoroughly, tugging lightly on her bottom lip and tangling their tongues in a dance they’ve perfected as the sounds of fireworks exploding seem to surround them from all directions of the city. Someone must have set-up a display nearby; lights and colors burst into the sky above them and an idea forms in his head. As he would very much prefer not to remove his mouth from where it currently is, he prays to her.
Care for a better view of the show?
To his disappointment, she pulls away briefly, only seeming to now realize there are any fireworks to be seen. “Did you do this?”
He genuinely wishes he had even thought of it, given the awed look in her eyes. “Unfortunately, no, but we can watch, if you like?” Though part of him hopes she’ll prefer staying here, kissing him, instead.
Her eyes light up and she nods. “Yeah, I love fireworks.”
How had he never known that...? Lucifer unfurls his wings, handing her his champagne flute. “Just a short hop, but we can only get there by wing,” he explains at her curious look.
At her agreement, he carefully gathers her in his arms and with a few gentle beats of his wings, they’re standing on the edge of Lux, near the spire. Lucifer places Chloe on the landing, helping her sit at the edge so her feet are dangling 280-feet over Sunset Boulevard. Her awed eyes are locked on the fireworks display as Lucifer joins her.
“Cheers, darling.” He holds his flute in her direction. “Happy New Year.”
Chloe turns to him and smiles, tapping her glass to his. “Happy New Year, Lucifer.”
With his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, they sip their sparkling juice and watch the show above them, each looking forward to the year to come far more than either of them ever has.
The Detective is acting oddly.
It started a few days into the new year when Lucifer came home after playing a set at Lux to find his usually calm, poised fiancée tearing the penthouse apart searching for something. Couch and armchair cushions were askew, the bar in shambles (not entirely, but to his neat freak eye, that’s how it looked), and the bedroom and wardrobe drawers were left hanging open, contents shuffled and out of order—he’d felt an eye twitch at the last one, having worked on his sock index tirelessly.
“Has there been a tornado?” he asked, a leery smile on his lips as he twisted his cufflink and stepped cautiously into the penthouse.
Chloe popped up from where she was bent on all-fours looking under the couch. Her eyes widened, panicked, he thought, and carefully climbed to her feet. Lucifer rushed over to give her a hand up. She blew a strand of hair from her face, eyes darting back and forth, trying to think of an explanation. “I was looking for...my car keys.”
“Right...” Lucifer’s eyebrows furrowed at the blatant lie. He walked to the coat tree near the elevator and dug through her leather jacket, holding the keys up between them by the ring—one chosen by the Urchin: a purple smirking Devil emoji with a crooked halo above its head. “These keys?”
Blurting a forced laugh, Chloe ran her hand through her hair, though her eyes widened again and she quickly dropped it. “Yep, those keys,” she said tightly. “Pregnancy brain...I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached. Thanks, babe.”
“Is everything all right, Detective?” he asked suspiciously. She hadn’t acted this cagey since she first started seeing Cain and didn’t want him to know about it. “You seem...frazzled...”
“Hmm? No, I’m good. How was Lux?”
The obvious deflection had done nothing to alleviate the Devil’s concerns, but he let it go, trusting that she would come to him if she were in trouble and needed help. Or at least he tried to. Although he does trust Chloe more than anybody in the universe, she’s never blatantly lied to him like that over something big, and with how panicked and worried she’d been that night...
“It could be nothing, Lucifer,” Linda tries to soothe him. “Maybe she’s planning a surprise for you?”
“Under the settee? Yes, that’s where I plan all my surprises,” he snarks sarcastically as he paces the office. “No, this was... She looked worried, Doctor, almost afraid, like she’s hiding something, because she fears my reaction. I mean...when have I ever given her reason...” A horrible feeling settles into his stomach, a fear he’s dreaded and yet expected from the first time she told him she loved him. “What if...” He can barely get the bloody words out around the panicked lump in his throat as he drops to the couch across from Linda. “What if she’s planning to leave?”
Linda gives him a flat look. “From under the settee?” she mocks.
And yes, okay...perhaps it’s a stretch, but... “We don’t keep secrets, Doctor, not since she found out the truth about me, and we don’t lie to one another. I just don’t understand...”
“Lucifer, I’m going to ask the obvious question here, though judging by your reaction, I think I already know the answer: Have you asked Chloe about this?”
He scoffs. “What, and have her lie to me again? Badly, at that. You’d think a former actress and a detective who regularly goes undercover in dangerous situations would be better at thinking on her feet.”
“Look, I’m just going to come out and say it, because with your history, you’re about to do something really foolish that will sabotage all the good you and Chloe have built—and in her current condition, she doesn’t need the added stress: You’re overreacting, Lucifer,” she says bluntly. “Now, I don’t know what Chloe might be keeping from you, but I highly, highly doubt she is planning to leave you. You’re the father of her child and you’re getting married; she isn’t just going to one day flip a switch and change her mind about loving you. That isn’t how it works. I saw the two of you just a week ago together, and you barely acknowledged anyone else in that club, because you were so absorbed with one another.
“Whatever is going on, I’m sure there is a reasonable and not at all panic-inducing explanation for it. So I’m telling you this as your friend, Lucifer...just ask her.”
Of course, he doesn’t do that, because he’s terrified that he’s about to learn that Linda was dead wrong and Chloe is on some sort of warpath because she can’t decide how to tell Lucifer it’s all over. So, he watches her for another week. For the most part, she’s her normal self with him and her Urchin, and he sees no warning signs like in the movies—where one half of a couple walks into a room and the other half hastily hangs up the phone. She isn’t constantly texting where he can’t see her, suggesting she’s found somebody else; which is good, because Lucifer is sure his father wouldn’t approve of him smiting another human.
Then there are other times where he does walk into a room to see her frantically searching for something—and the way she’s been hiding her left hand behind her back—
And it clicks. He knows what’s happening.
And he absolutely overreacted.
“Everything all right, darling?” Lucifer asks casually, leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom. Chloe is on her hands and knees again—a position he would normally make a dozen or so innuendos about—searching beneath the vanity, the cupboards, the counter...everywhere. “What on Earth are you doing?”
She grabs onto the counter with one hand, cradling her growing stomach with the other, and straightens into a kneeling position. “I...thought I lost something,” she says, not sounding panicked this time so much as defeated and resigned.
“Oh?” He feigns concern, crossing the room to help her to her feet. “What did you lose? I’ll help you search.”
Her shoulders droop and she begins twisting her fingers like she’s trying to braid them together—a mannerism she only makes use of when she’s exceptionally nervous and trying to hide it. “Don’t be mad, okay? I’m sure it’s around here someplace,” she says bracingly, adding, “I hope,” under her breath. “But I kinda took off my ring a couple weeks ago, because my fingers started swelling,” she shows him her fingers, which do look a bit swollen, “and put it somewhere I thought was safe, then I went back to put it on my necklace,” she huffs ruefully. “Now I can’t find it.”
Tears fill her eyes. “Lucifer, I’ve looked everywhere, and I don’t know if it fell behind something, or if the stupid pregnancy brain is making me remember things differently... It’s just nowhere. And I should’ve told you, I shouldn’t have lied, but I thought I could find it without upsetting you, because I know that ring is one of a kind, I just...I’m sorry. Will you help me look, please?”
Lucifer lets her get through her speech, and while he wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms and console her...well, she did lie... A tiny bit of torture won’t hurt, will it? So, without a word, he leaves the bathroom in long strides, ignoring Chloe’s attempts to call him back. He goes straight to the safe in their bedroom, removing the mermaid clown painting (that survived Chloe’s clown costume burning only by virtue of it being part of Lucifer’s deal with that wannabe artist), types 61181 into the numerical pad, and opens the door.
Behind him, he can hear Chloe approaching. “Lucifer, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to lose it, I swear, I wouldn’t have even taken it off at all if my fingers weren’t the size of freaking sausages...”
He reaches for the box on the top shelf.
“You know that ring means the world to me—”
He turns around, holding his palm out between them, opening the velvet lid of the box, and displaying the contents. “This ring?” he asks lightly.
She stares in shock at her engagement ring, safe and sound, then at him and back to the ring again. Her eyes narrow. “Oh, you absolute bastard,” she groans. “I’ve been losing my damn mind looking for this, and you’ve had it the whole time!”
“Well, not the whole time, darling.” He grins. “You left it in the kitchen next to the sink, and whilst I didn't know why you decided to take it off, I thought I’d keep it safe for you until you were ready to put it back on again.” He gestures at the safe for emphasis.
“Oh, I hate you sometimes...” She sighs, rubbing her forehead with her fingers like she has a headache.
“No, you don’t,” he says consolingly. “Though you could have simply said something and saved yourself the added stress, Detective.”
She sighs again. “I didn’t want you to think it meant so little to me that I was careless with it. Or that I’m too much of an idiot to keep track of my valuables.”
“I thought nothing of the sort,” he promises her, palming the ring and placing his hands on her waist. Though he really doesn’t want to tell her what he did think... “You think I don’t misplace possessions from time to time? Valuables, even?”
She gives him a look. “You have an eidetic memory,” she deadpans.
“That doesn’t translate to remembering things all at once, all the time,” he corrects her. “Darling, next time, just come to me, hmm? I wouldn’t have been upset, I promise you. Now, would you like for me to place this on your necklace chain for you?”
Resting her forehead against his chest and finally relaxing for the first time in two weeks, she nods, bottom lip jutting out. Chuckling at her adorableness, Lucifer nimbly undoes the clasp on her bullet necklace and slips her engagement ring onto the chain, then clasps it again, arranging the ring so that it sits beside the bullet.
“There. All done.” He massages the back of her neck, making her hum happily against him.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
Pressing a kiss to her hair, he props his chin on top of her head. “You had me worried for a minute, you know.”
“What? Why?”
He rolls his eyes at himself. “I knew you were hiding something, you lied to me about looking for your car keys, but I couldn’t work out what was happening... I thought...”
She looks up at him, frowning. “You thought, what?”
Lucifer winces at his overreaction. “I thought,” he sighs, “you were preparing to leave me.”
She raises a sardonic eyebrow. “From under the couch?” she asks dryly.
“Yes, that’s precisely what Dr. Linda said. And yes, I understand how far off the mark I was...”
Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Why was your first thought that I was going to leave, Lucifer? I kind of thought I‘ve made it clear I’m not going anywhere—ever.”
He makes a helpless sound. “I...you have, Chloe, I just...I can’t imagine there will ever come a day in which I don't worry that I’ll spectacularly screw up to the point you change your mind. And it’s nothing against you, or that you’ve been unclear in your declarations for me. But when you’ve spent literal eons believing yourself utterly incapable and unworthy of anything truly good...well. The end result is standing right before you.”
Chloe gives him a sympathetic look. “Well, in that case, I will remind you however often you need reminding,” she vows. Her eyes light up. “Starting with...we should set a date for our wedding.”
Warmth rushes through his veins. “Really?”
She nods. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks.” She tugs his hand, pulling him to sit beside her on the edge of their bed. “So...any suggestions?”
Lucifer scoffs. “I should, perhaps, leave this up to you, Detective, because I would marry you right this very moment. In fact, I’ve several judges and justices of the peace on speed dial who would be more than delighted to marry us in the next hour.”
The look on her face suggests she doesn’t know whether to laugh or question the details of that particular statement. “While I do feel the same way,” she says slowly, and Lucifer perks up hopefully, already halfway to reaching for his phone, “I would prefer my daughter and at least a few of our friends to be in attendance. And if we exclude my mom, we will never hear the end of it.”
Pouting, his shoulders slump, but he hadn’t truly expected her to take him up on the suggestion, anyway. “Well, do we wish to marry before or after the little gremlin makes his debut?”
She hesitates. “Honestly, I’ve kind of been imagining having Lucas there with us, too,” she says quietly and carefully, like she doesn’t want to disappoint him with the delay.
Lucifer places a hand on her belly, smiling. “Yes, that does sound lovely, doesn’t it?”
“Even if he’s only a few months old. And that way I won’t be as big as a house in my dress.”
Scoffing, he gives her a look. “Darling, you are literally growing a miniature person in your stomach. It’s not as if you’ve just suddenly put on weight for no particular reason. And no matter what, you will look positively gorgeous.”
Chloe rolls her eyes—not really the reaction he’d expected. “Yeah, well, there are a few times in a woman’s life she wants to look her absolute best, and her wedding is one of them. I want this kid out of me before we say our vows.”
Chuckling, he nods. “Then wait we shall. Besides, you’ve done this before, remember?”
“So have you,” she mutters, rolling her eyes again.
“That wasn’t real, though,” he says smugly. “That was Candy and I signing a few bits of paperwork, and me handing her the ring to put on herself. Nothing especially romantic, or even enjoyable, about it.”
“And after my courthouse wedding to Dan, I was back to work an hour later,” she says wryly. “I mean, we had a party afterwards, but that was it. Even my dress was secondhand and, like, the third thing I saw in the shop in my rush to find something.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. He hadn’t known that; he knew her wedding to Daniel was low-key, just not how low-key. “Truly enchanting,” he deadpans. “I’ve no idea why your marriage to the Douche didn’t last.”
She gives him a look. “My point is, this wedding is going to be my last one—our last one—so I want to make it count. I want my whole,” her hand joins his over her stomach, “family in attendance and I want it to be exactly what we desire.”
“Hmm... Now you’re speaking my language, Detective.” His words and tone are teasing, but he’s incredibly touched by her words—and he couldn’t agree more. “In that case, we’re due to meet our little Hellraiser mid-March...shall we say late summer, early fall?”
Chloe’s lips twitch. “Well, I’d have to check my schedule, but I suppose I could pencil you in...”
“How kind of you, my love. How’s, say...the fourth of August work for you?”
“Why the fourth of August?” she asks curiously.
He doesn’t know. “Just seems like the perfect date to marry the love of my life.”
She cocks her head, thinking. “Assuming Lucas is on time, he’ll be almost five months...yeah, that sounds perfect, actually.”
Excitement and impatience begin to bubble within him. “Yeah?” She nods, a slow smile growing on her lips and her eyes lighting with the same eagerness for the months to pass that he feels. He leans forward, forehead touching hers. “Then it’s a date, Detective.”
Notes:
Full credit to Punishers by JCBeckett for the reference to Amenadiel and his JCPenney wardrobe. I couldn't resist the reference.
Chapter Text
Now that they’ve set a date for the wedding, it’s starting to feel more real to Chloe—she, formerly Plain Jane “Granny Panties” Decker, is marrying the real life, actual Devil, and will be giving birth to the Antichrist in just a couple of months. Just like getting her wings made the whole immortal angel thing more real. Though quite frankly, a wedding is something her brain, which still operates by human standards most of the time, can easily comprehend and put into context and effect.
It seems the same is true for Lucifer. Only, he’s taken a more...proactive approach to things. Chloe admitted that one of the biggest factors to her last-minute courthouse wedding to Dan was knowing that if they did decide on a bigger event, she would be the one planning it. Dan would defer to her for everything rather than helping or making decisions for himself. In fact, his words early on when she’d first mentioned wedding planning were, “just tell me when to show up, Chlo, and I’ll be there”. (Probably half an hour late, but that’s something else altogether.) Lucifer told her that he is more than willing to help plan, make arrangements, and ensure the day is exactly as they both want it to be.
Chloe assumed this would involve hiring a wedding planner—eventually (after all, they have eight months to decide what they want and how they want it to go). Nope. No, this meant Lucifer was going to dive headfirst into all things wedding and drive her absolutely up the wall with questions and opinion requests.
Starting with, “What type of wedding do we desire, Detective?”
She’s already thought about that question a hundred times since he proposed, though she wasn’t certain Lucifer, with his proclivities towards all things spectacle would agree. “Actually, I was kind of thinking something small. Intimate, you know? Just immediate family and friends, maybe on our beach?”
And to her utter shock, rather than scoff and insist that the Devil’s wedding needed to be bigger and better, he smiles softly at her. “I thought you might. And I think that sounds absolutely divine, Detective.”
“You...do?” she asks skeptically. “I kind of assumed you’d want this giant three-ring spectacle and to invite a couple hundred people.”
He shrugs. “And were it solely up to me, that’s likely the direction my desires would take me; however, this is about much more than simply me. I want you to have what you desire, Chloe. As you said, this will be the last wedding for both of us, and it should be perfect; not something out of control that you don’t truly want. The afterparty, however...”
So, they know where their wedding will take place, and when; now, it’s just sorting out the details. Chloe has every intention of keeping her mother as far from wedding planning as possible, and made Lucifer give his word he wouldn’t involve her.
“Because by the time she’s done, she’ll take our divine little intimate wedding and turn it into that three-ring circus we don’t actually want...”
Ella was another story. While Chloe assumed her friend would have the same opinion she thought Lucifer would (bigger is better, and Deckerstar needs to go all out), she was wrong about that, too. Ella thought the concept they’d come up with sounded adorably romantic and like a fairytale. Perfect for the start of Deckerstar’s happily ever after.
Now, it’s all she and Lucifer talk about at work (well, when Ella isn’t going on about baby Deckerstar, that is). About a week in, they were supposed to be discussing the gruesome murder investigation of Dan’s. Lucifer was looking at a flower arrangement in one of the crime scene photos (wild flowers spattered with blood) and asked Ella’s opinion on the arrangement. When Ella broke off mid-sentence while talking about the victim to answer him, Chloe decided enough was enough and implemented a new rule.
“You guys can talk weddings and babies all you want...when you’re not supposed to be focusing on the murder we’re trying to solve.”
So now they save wedding talk for Ella’s lab when Chloe sends Lucifer away while she’s doing paperwork (which is most of the time now). And some days, he only comes into the precinct to get Chloe’s and Ella’s opinions on something. He has three giant wedding binders now full of color swatches, material samples, cutouts from magazines, and all of his other ideas. It’s only been two weeks. Chloe loves him beyond the word, but the Devil is a menace.
At home, though, once Chloe has switched off from DetectiveMode™, she doesn’t mind talking details with Lucifer at all. And Trixie is having a ball helping them.
“I wanna be a bridesmaid,” Trixie announces decisively one evening over dinner—Lucifer’s savory lasagna, garlic cheese bread, and salad.
Lucifer raises a surprised eyebrow. “I was under the impression that most little girls desired to be the flower girl?”
Trixie gives him a look that gives Chloe’s a run for her money. “Yeah, little girls. I’m not a little girl, Lucifer, I’m double-digits. I’m ten, and I’ll be eleven when you get married,” she elaborates when he looks at her blankly. “And I want to be one of Mom’s bridesmaids.”
At some point, her daughter had consistently begun to stop calling her Mommy, and Chloe still doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. She still remembers when Trixie was as old as Lucas currently is, still in her belly, and now she’s this fierce, clever, amazing young woman who’s rapidly approaching teenagerhood. It’s a little terrifying.
“Of course you can be a bridesmaid, Monkey,” she agrees easily, popping a tomato into her mouth. “I’d love that. Maybe Emily can be the flower girl?”
“What color scheme do we desire, darling?” Lucifer asks later on, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at the iPad in his hand and scans Pinterest. “I definitely think we should have some blues mixed in—you know, to represent your wings.”
“Hmm...” Chloe leans against his shoulder and looks down at the images he’s searching. “Well, I guess the white will be present for your wings...”
“And blue is your favorite color, of course. For the flowers, perhaps? There are some positively magnificent blue lilies I came across the other day I think you’d enjoy. We’ll need sunflowers, too, of course.” He brought her sunflowers for their first date. “What do you think of...”
By the time February rolls around, Chloe is in her eighth month of pregnancy, and boy, does she feel it. Every movement takes more effort, every activity is exhausting, getting up and down out of bed is a two-person job now (she’s finally become the turtle Lucifer teased her about being earlier in her pregnancy, struggling to get up), and she’s ready to be done. Not only is she over all the pregnancy side effects, she really just wants to meet her son.
She and Lucifer have put the finishing touches on Lucas’s nursery, arranging the clothing in his dresser—and his little three-piece suits (yes, plural) in his closet along with the toys and things he won’t be using for some time.
Chloe’s baby shower had been the week before, and it was mostly just her friends gathering in the penthouse playing games and laughing. Of course, her mother had been present, too (Chloe couldn’t keep her away if she tried...and she did try), as well as Trixie; the former was only a little initially disgruntled that Ella had planned the whole thing instead of her. Chloe learned her lesson the first time around.
The penthouse was decked out in varying shades of blue, though baby blue was most prominent, an alarming amount of balloons, paper streamers, a banner hanging over the balcony doors reading Welcome, Lucas! in beautiful cursive, and a table of finger foods and snacks in front of the bar. There were dozens of party games and some small gifts, as Chloe had insisted they didn’t need anything for the baby. (Not that her mother listened...)
Ella gave them an adorable black onesie with a halo sitting between devil horns and white wings that said Devil’s Little Angel below it. Maze (shockingly—not) gave them a blade with a stuffed toy dog’s head on the pummel (“For Teivel,” the demon had explained). From Eve, a basket of lotions and other pampering products for Chloe. Linda’s gift was the promise of three free nights of babysitting so that she and Lucifer can go out after the baby is born. And of course, Penelope went completely overboard by giving clothes, toys, diapers and bottles (which, fair, they could always use), and other things they already have in excess thanks to Lucifer’s shopping sprees.
All in all, it had been a much more enjoyable experience than the shower for Trixie that Chloe let Penelope plan.
Now, she’s a week out before she begins maternity leave. Though she wanted to wait until the last minute to start taking time off—because...workaholic, even on desk duty—her doctor insisted she start early because he was worried about her high blood pressure. It wasn’t worrisome to the point of preeclampsia, but they want to avoid that, hence early maternity leave. Lucas is more active than ever, barely taking a rest, and certainly not when Chloe is trying to rest herself.
“I swear, this kid is doing cartwheels in my damn uterus,” she complains to Lucifer as they (slowly) make their way into the precinct. “He spent all night pressing on my side like he was trying to come out Alien-style.”
Lucifer winces in sympathy. “Only a few more weeks, love,” he soothes. “Anything I can do?”
Chloe shakes her head, wincing at a particularly sharp kick against her pubic bone. “Not really. This is what happens during pregnancy. All those little kicks we found adorable in the beginning? Mmm...not so much, now.”
Lucifer grimaces. “It was a bit odd last night watching him pressing out from the inside.”
He’s been positively fascinated at how much more active their son is when he sings to him while lying in bed before going to sleep. Lucifer has sung to her belly since he learned the baby could hear him in the womb and would recognize his voice. His current favorite is Beautiful Boy by John Lennon, and it brings Chloe to tears every time she hears it in his angelic voice. He’s also been busy at the piano in recent days, composing something quiet that he, apparently, isn’t ready for her to hear, but she suspects it’s for Lucas, or for her—or both.
“Imagine feeling it...”
He makes a face. “Hard pass, I think...” Chloe doesn't blame him.
Today, she’s been more tired (and cranky) than normal. Braxton Hicks contractions are starting to hit. And they know it’s Braxton Hicks, because when they started the other night at two in the morning, Lucifer would not relax until they went to the ER to get her checked over to ensure it wasn’t early labor. Chloe apologized for wasting the doctor’s time on the way out, but that was a whole night of not sleeping that she didn’t need. Today, though, they’re making her even more miserable, to the point that Lucifer tried to convince her to call in sick to the precinct. She almost wishes she had, but doesn’t dare tell Lucifer that, or he’ll just drag her right back to the car—and it’s just too far to walk.
“How you feeling, Chlo?” Dan asks sympathetically as he approaches her desk. Lucifer has gone to get her some tea.
“Like I’m eight months pregnant with an angel baby,” she deadpans. “What’s up?”
He winces. “You feeling up to helping me work through some case details?”
She nods tiredly. “Yeah, I could use the distraction. What do you got so far? This is for the...Sullivan case?”
“Rodriguez,” Dan corrects. “Sullivan was last week.”
Chloe rolls her eyes at herself. She knew that, having discovered the evidence Dan needed to find the killer. Pregnancy brain fog is worse than ever. “Right, yeah, go ahead...” She rubs absently on her belly, trying to soothe Lucas into relaxing for a few minutes.
When it comes time for lunch, she isn’t particularly hungry, more tired than anything, but she manages a bit of the grilled cheese and soup Lucifer picked up from a diner down the street.
“Detective, are you certain you’re all right?” Lucifer asks, his concern deepening as he studies her. “I know it annoys you when I ask, but...darling, you’re pale and growing paler.”
“He’s not wrong, Chloe,” Ella chips in, just as worried.
Chloe glares at them, then turns to Dan. “You wanna get in on this?”
Dan holds his hands out in surrender, knowing better, but as he backs away a few steps, he adds, “Not particularly, but I will say, I didn’t see you like this with Trixie...”
“I’m fi—” she starts to snap at all three of them, but a particularly sharp pain hits her in that moment. “Oh...fuck...”
“Chloe?” Lucifer is around the desk so fast, she wonders faintly if he flew. “Darling, what is it?”
She ignores him for a moment, concentrating on what she’s feeling, then looks down at her belly when she feels a flood of liquid between her legs. “Um...I don’t wish to alarm anyone—” Lucifer looks like he’s already alarmed and rapidly heading towards panicking. “—but I think my water just broke...”
For a minute, they all just stare dumbly at her, then, in unison, they snap out of it and start talking over each other, pacing back and forth in front of her desk. She lets this go on for about thirty seconds until Lucifer and Dan start arguing about which of them is delivering the baby (I’m sorry, what?) while Ella is speaking over them in rapid, panicky Spanish.
“For the love of everything, I will just fly myself to the hospital if you two don’t shut up!”
Lucifer looks just as pale as they say she is. “Right,” he says breathlessly, visibly shaking himself. “Right, yes, the hospital. Of course, Detective...”
She expects him to help her to her feet so she can walk out of the precinct with some dignity—or worse, carry her. Instead, he rushes behind her chair and begins pushing her towards the elevator. “Lucifer? What are you doing?”
“Well, I’m assuming time is of the essence in our current dilemma, Detective,” he says, voice tight with stress, “and as your current maximum speed is molasses, slower than, I decided to improvise and save us the three bloody hours it would take us to get to the car.”
As much as she wants to argue...all of what he just said, he isn’t actually wrong. And when another contraction hits halfway to the elevator, she knows he had a good idea. Dan and Ella are catching up. “Dan, you’ve got Trix?”
“Don’t even think about it, Chloe, you just focus on yourself, yeah?” Dan tells her, getting ahead of them to summon the elevator. “Lucifer, you might want to call ahead to Chloe’s OB-GYN.“
Chloe can almost sense Lucifer biting back some sort of snarky response, but instead he mutters something under his breath and starts fumbling for his phone. “Hey, Ella, could you do me a major favor?”
“Name it, chica,” Ella says, instantly at her side and listening closely.
“I need a go-bag. I thought we had weeks left and hadn’t bothered considering packing one yet.” And now she’s kicking herself. “Just a comfy pair of pajamas, an outfit to come home in, and something for the baby to wear. I’m sure Linda can help if you need some suggestions.”
“Done, babe.” She leans down to gently hug Chloe, avoiding her belly completely. “Good luck, okay? And I expect to know when you and baby Lucas are ready for visitors.”
“You will, thank you.”
Faintly, she can hear Lucifer on the phone explaining what’s going on to the doctor. His voice is surprisingly calm, but that could just be him burying all his panic and fear and everything else she knows he’s feeling right now.
“Right, then. Dr. Scheiffer will await our arrival outside Cedars-Sinai,” he announces as the elevator doors finally open and Ella forcibly removes the two officers standing inside, staring at them instead of vacating.
“Move, you idiotas,” she hisses. “Can’t you see they’re in a freaking hurry?”
Lucifer huffs a strained laugh. “Well done, Miss Lopez...” Ella joins them in the elevator, giving Lucifer advice Chloe doesn’t hear, because...another contraction...
He’s early too many contractions he’s early something’s wrong, is all she can think as Lucifer gives her his hand to squeeze on the elevator ride up. Ella rubs her shoulder soothingly, and Chloe really hopes she didn’t say any of that out loud.
“Everything’s going to be just fine, Detective,” Lucifer says in a way that makes her think he’s trying to convince himself, too.
When the next contraction hits, Chloe can’t hold back her cries of pain any longer (she’s impressed she’s managed this long, honestly).
I’m here, Chloe, I’ve got you... Lucifer's string of soothing prayers actually do wonders at settling her nerves. Her partner is here; he won’t let anything bad happen to her or their baby—not now, not ever. Nearly to the car, now. Just hold on, love...
Unfortunately, she has to let go of his hand to get into the passenger side of the Benz, and it nearly shocks her out of a contraction when Lucifer removes his $3000 suit jacket for her to sit on to avoid ruining the upholstery. She can vaguely see Ella out of the corner of her eye, watching them anxiously as she hands Lucifer Chloe’s purse and he drops it somewhere at her feet. The car door shuts and she’s alone for a few seconds.
“Come on, Lucas...slow it down, just a little, okay? I should’ve realized you’d want to make a grand entrance, given who your daddy is, but this is ridiculous, baby...”
Then Lucifer is sliding into the driver’s seat, and with a blink (not bothering with keys), he starts the car. With a smirk that doesn’t meet his eyes, he glances at Chloe. “I can turn anything on.”
She huffs a breathless laugh, then groans at the pain in her belly.
“How are you doing, love?”
“An angel baby is trying to force himself out of my vagina, how do you think I am?” she asks through gritted teeth, tipping her head back against the headrest.
“Right, of course... My apologies,” he says, quickly reversing and flying through the parking garage at an alarming rate.
“Could you please not kill us before we get to the hospital?”
Instead of arguing that he has full control over his reaction time and reflexes, he slows down a bit—at least, until they’re on the road. Wordlessly, he gives her his hand again and she holds on tightly. It takes her a minute or two to realize he’s been far too quiet over there.
“Are you okay?” He doesn’t answer. “I know it’s a few weeks sooner than planned, but he’s going to be fine, Lucifer. We both are.”
He hums in acknowledgment. Before she can reassure him further, another contraction hits. It’s going to be a long afternoon.
It’s too bloody early. This isn’t supposed to be happening now. We’re supposed to have weeks more time to prepare. What if something is terribly wrong? What if we lose him? What if I lose both of them?
It’s at this point that Lucifer forces himself out of his head, because otherwise he’s going to completely lose it, and Chloe is counting on him, now more than ever. He should have been more insistent about her staying home from work this morning. He should have paid more attention to her today instead of planning a bloody wedding that’s six months away. He should have...done a lot of things that he didn’t do.
He’s been both dreading and looking forward to this day from the moment Chloe told him that she’s pregnant. Looking forward, because he’s eager to see and meet and hold their son for the first time; to begin this new adventure alongside the person he loves most in the universe. Dreading, because...well. Despite the books, the blogs, the chats with bloody Daniel...even that first time fathers class he grudgingly took, he has no idea what he’s doing.
What in Dad’s name does he know about being a father? What business does he even have being a father? What if he cocks it all up like he does everything else? Being in a relationship with Chloe and this are the two most important things he’s ever done in his bloody life (and isn’t that saying something?); this is one thing he cannot get wrong, but there are so many unknowns involved.
What if he’s holding his son for the first time and he bloody drops him? Sure, he’ll likely be an angel, but none of them know what that means; maybe it takes time for invulnerability (if he even has it) to kick in. Lucifer could cause his son brain damage on day bloody one.
Then, there are the outside factors that could threaten Lucas—everything from Lucifer's siblings and demons, to enemies Lucifer has made throughout the millennia. He remembers a conversation with Eve, back when he first found out about the pregnancy, when she said parents can’t protect their children from every harm in the world. But this is different; his son has nothing to do with age-old rivalries, and yet, he’ll be targeted simply due to who his father is before he takes his first breath. Hell, Remiel has already tried to take him from his mother’s belly months ago, and Lucifer has just been waiting for her to try again.
Shit...
What if his sister is merely lying in wait for Lucas to be born before trying again? It won’t make any difference to Remiel that babies need their mothers, need people who actually care for them—not distant relatives on power trips who think they have the high ground simply because of where they live. Well, it won’t bloody happen. None of his siblings (save Amenadiel, he supposes) is laying a finger on his son. And sure, none of the others seem inclined to come after the Devil’s spawn, but Lucifer never received confirmation that Remiel was standing down; they got sidetracked dealing with Michael instead.
Well, the first moment he gets the chance, he’ll contact Amenadiel; he can help keep an eye on Lucas. After all, if anybody else understands Lucifer’s feelings on the matter, it’s the other sibling whose child Remiel targeted.
Lucifer comes to a smooth, gentle stop outside the Cedars-Sinai Emergency Department doors where Dr. Scheiffer can be seen waiting with a nurse and a wheelchair.
“We’re here, Detective,” he tells her softly, squeezing her hand comfortingly. Or what he hopes is comforting. He gets out of the car, fishes the car key from his pocket and a few random bills from his money clip, and shoves it all into the chest of the dumbstruck valet standing at the curb. “Name’s Morningstar,” he adds over his shoulder without breaking stride on his way to open the passenger side door to help Chloe. “Here we are, darling, I’ve got you,” he says when Chloe starts trying to get out of the car on her own.
He shifts her feet outside of the car and helps her pivot ninety degrees, then she links an arm around his shoulder, and he easily helps her to her feet, turning her so she can sit down again in the wheelchair. The doctor immediately begins asking questions—how long since Chloe’s water broke? How long since the last contraction? How long between contractions? Any pain that isn’t from contractions? Any bleeding? And so on, into the hospital and through the halls.
One of the many humans who still owes a debt to the Devil just so happens to be the executive director of Cedars-Sinai Medical Center. A couple months ago, Lucifer went through all his outstanding local favors, and even some not so outstanding, looking for ones that would make Chloe’s pregnancy and giving birth easier on her. Of the 88 hospitals in Los Angeles County, more than 80% of them have staff who owe the Devil favors, of whom Sandra Chen is one. Lucifer was able to secure the best birthing suite in nearly every hospital in metropolitan Los Angeles, starting two months before Chloe’s official due date, just in case.
Not that he has any intention of telling Chloe about any of this. Just this once, he’ll let her believe she got lucky without taking credit for the room.
“Whoa...” Chloe says, blinking around the room she’s being wheeled into.
For a hospital room, even Lucifer can admit it’s quite nice. It’s actually two rooms—the typical hospital room (with nicer furnishings) and a separate room that he assumes serves as a waiting area. Carpeted with a couch against wall-to-wall windows, an armchair, a small dining area complete with minifridge (vaguely, he wonders if the hospital supplies mini liquor bottles like hotels—for the fathers-to-be, of course, not the mothers), and a big screen TV, as well as a separate bathroom.
“Not really what I expected...” Chloe says, checking out their digs for the next...however long it will be.
She looks at him suspiciously, but doesn’t ask...then can’t ask because she goes into another contraction. Immediately, the doctor begins timing on his watch while Lucifer and the nurse each take one of Chloe’s hands, the latter of whom reminds her to breathe through it. Lucifer suddenly recalls the Lamaze class he and Chloe attended a couple months ago where they’d demonstrated breathing techniques during labor. He thought it seemed ridiculous at the time, but it seems to be helping Chloe some; at least she isn’t turning beet red the way Lucifer had when he tried to imitate the techniques.
“Okay, Chloe, let’s get you changed into a gown and we’ll see how things are looking,” Dr. Scheiffer announces once the contraction is over. “With how irregular and frequent your contractions are, I want to make sure everything is moving normally and that your baby is on the right path out.”
The nurse hands Chloe a gown and then gives her and Lucifer privacy to get her changed. Lucifer helps her strip, and he realizes he needs to pay more attention to his partner when he notices tears falling from her eyes.
“Chloe? Are you in pain? Do you need the doctor?” he asks hastily, taking a step towards the door.
She shakes her head, reaching for his hand. “No, that’s not... I shouldn’t have brushed you off about Braxton Hicks, I should have paid more attention. What if something is wrong, Lucifer?”
Suddenly, all his fears vanish in the face of hers. “Nothing is going to be wrong,” he promises her, cupping her face and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “As for the contractions... Chloe, you are the one who’s been through this before, I would have panicked at the slightest twinge of pain from you. You were paying attention, love. You have done everything right during this pregnancy, from what I could tell, and I’ve memorized all those bloody books.” She huffs a watery laugh; he counts that as a victory. “I don’t know why he’s early; perhaps it’s as simple as he’s as dramatic and impulsive as you’re always saying I am.”
“Yeah, but he’s half-Decker, too, and Deckers are calm, rational people.”
He gives her a look, complete with raised eyebrow. “Darling, I’ve met your mother,” he says dryly.
That gets more of a laugh. He smiles. Before either of them can say more there’s a knock on the door. Lucifer silently asks if she needs more time, but she takes a deep breath and straightens up. “I’m good. Come in,” she calls.
As it turns out, Chloe is much further in labor than even she realized. The doctor does a full exam on her and announces that everything seems to be perfectly normal other than being earlier than anticipated.
“It does happen from time to time,” the doctor tells the nervous parents-to-be. “And it doesn’t mean that anything will be wrong with your baby; from what I can tell, you’ve had the textbook pregnancy, Chloe, and your son is perfectly healthy.”
Both Chloe and Lucifer relax a little.
“Try to get some rest, time those contractions, and call if you need anything. I will be in routinely to check up on you and keep an eye on things. Okay?”
“Yes, thank you, Doctor,” Lucifer answers for both of them. He sits on the edge of the hospital bed and gets a good look at the provided red and black patterned blanket for the first time. “Must say, I do approve of their color schemes...”
Chloe smiles wanly, resting her head back on the pillow. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He frowns. “Where else would I be?” he asks, bemused.
She huffs wryly. “I had the worst dream that I was giving birth and you weren’t here and nobody seemed to know where you were or how to find you.”
“That would never happen,” he promises her. “Chloe, so long as it is within my quite considerable power to do so, I will always be by your side. Partners ’til the end, yes?”
She takes his offered hand, interlocking their fingers. “Partners ’til the end,” she agrees. “And I do know it wasn’t realistic; I just...did not like it.”
“No, I don’t imagine you would have. After all, who else would keep you entertained through the next however many hours? And whose hand will you crush?” He blinks in realization. “Oh dear, I’ve just realized, not only are you celestial now, but you’re carrying a celestial baby... There’s every chance you could crush my hand during labor.”
“Speaking of things happening during labor, I want to apologize in advance for any of the horrible things I may say to you while giving life to our son,” she says, lips twitching. “With Trixie, I told Dan no less than a dozen times I was never having sex with him again.”
Lucifer snorts a laugh. “Well, of course you did, it was Daniel.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll probably say the same thing to you at some point. Dan couldn’t believe some of the things I said to him. And he took some of it personally, so I want to give you a heads-up—anything that comes out of my mouth, I most likely don’t mean.”
“Especially the part about not wanting to have sex with me again, certainly,” he says confidently.
She rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh.”
“I solemnly promise not to take personally any of the horrendous things you shout at me whilst pushing a miniature person out of your lady parts,” he says mock-seriously, holding up his hand with his pinky and forefinger sticking up in vow.
Chloe frowns. “That’s not the Boy Scout oath hand sign.”
Lucifer looks at his hand and the Devil horns he’s forming, and scoffs. “I’m not giving a Boy Scout promise. I’m the Devil; this is the Devil’s oath hand sign.”
Chloe laughs.
“Oh, should we be informing anybody that you’re here?”
“I imagine Ella will take care of that,” she says dryly. “And if we tell my mom, she’ll be here wanting to be part of the action. Dan and I made the mistake of telling her almost as soon as my water broke with Trixie; we could barely get her to leave. Finally, Dan realized she was getting on my nerves with her little passive-aggressive comments, went to the nurses’ station, and had one of them tell my mom only one person was allowed in the birthing suite with the mother during labor.”
Lucifer makes an impressed face. “Well done, Douche. So, no Penelope. Shall I send a message letting everyone know we’re here, but to wait until you’ve given birth to come visit?”
“Yeah, I’d appreciate that. Thanks, babe. And Trixie is with Dan. We’ve already talked about him keeping her for the first week or two after Lucas is born, if for no other reason than she’ll be able to get some sleep. No reason for her to be up at all hours with us when she still has to go to school in the morning.”
He cringes, having blocked that aspect of parenthood out of his mind. “Lucky Urchin,” he says dryly, typing out the text.
“What’s the dove for?” Chloe asks, looking over his arm at the screen.
“I don’t have a stork emoji.”
“Ah.”
Immediately, he starts getting messages in response:
Lucifer snorts a laugh at Eve’s message. “Why am I not bloody surprised?”
“Do me a favor, text Dan and tell him to keep a close eye on Trixie so she doesn’t sneak out and catch an Uber here to come see me because she’s worried,” Chloe requests.
He smirks, but does as asked. Daniel responds that he will.
Chloe’s contractions begin again, lasting longer than the others have. “How long?” she pants once it’s over.
“Forty-nine seconds. Fifteen seconds longer than the last,” he informs her immediately.
She nods, controlling her breathing still. “Lucifer?”
“Hmm?” he hums, absentmindedly rubbing her back and checking his phone messages. Chloe hesitates. When he turns to check on her, she’s got her eyebrows deeply furrowed and her eyes are troubled. “Detective? What is it?”
She meets his gaze. “I’m going to be in labor for hours, which is...excruciatingly painful.”
Lucifer swallows, looking away; he hasn’t wanted to think of her going through that.
“What if my wings pop out in front of the medical staff?”
He can’t help it—he laughs. He knows he shouldn’t, because, yes, that would be terribly inconvenient, but the imagery it presents—wings popping out whilst she’s popping out a baby and traumatizing the medical staff—is hilarious.
Chloe slaps his leg. “I’m serious,” she insists, but her lips are twitching.
Lucifer sobers, because it is something they should seriously discuss. “You’ve gotten much more disciplined in controlling them, darling, I’m sure that won’t happen.”
Chloe gives him a look. “Lucifer. I can’t stop them from coming out during sex; what makes you think giving birth to a live person is going to be any better?”
And yes, he does suppose that’s a fair point. “Then I shall charm, cajole, and bribe our way out of trouble,” he says smoothly. She gives him a look. “What? It’s better than me razing the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center to the ground because they’re threatening to run tests on my fiancée and newborn son.”
She doesn’t look impressed.
“Look, now that you’ve brought the possibility to my attention, should you feel your wings manifesting, you can pray to me, and I can suppress them. Or if the worst should happen, and they do pop out whilst you are otherwise occupied, I can put them away for you, I do know the tricks. I’d imagine the doctor and whomever else is here during the main event will be so focused on my favorite part of your anatomy,” she rolls her eyes, giving him another look, “that they won’t even notice. However, should someone see something for a brief moment, it can be easily explained away—or I can fall back on the charming, cajoling, and bribing our way out of trouble. Think about it, Detective, how many times did you see a flash of my Devil face and write it off as a trick of the light or some such?”
She sighs. “Yeah, okay, fair point... Okay, so you’re on wing furling duty while I’m busy giving birth to our son. I probably should have talked to Linda more about her labor experience in case there’s anything else...celestial to be aware of.”
“Neither she nor Amenadiel mentioned anything out of the ordinary, but we can certainly find out.” He finds the contact in his phone for his therapist and hits dial. It only rings twice before she picks up, to his surprise, as it’s the middle of the day, and she’s usually in session.
“Lucifer? How’s Chloe? She hasn’t given birth already, has she?”
“Doctor, hello! The Detective is resting as comfortably as possible, but no, the little sproglet has yet to make an appearance. We’re calling because it’s occurred to the Detective that she never asked you about your birthing experience, and whether there are any celestial concerns to be aware of?”
Linda is quiet for a moment. “Is Chloe up to talking to me?”
He turns to Chloe. “She wants to know—”
Chloe is already making grabby hands for the phone. He sometimes forgets that her senses have reached celestial quality, the same as his. “Hey, Linda,” she says tiredly.
Deciding this isn’t a conversation he needs to be privy to unless Chloe wishes for him to be, Lucifer wanders the room, exploring (read: snooping) in cupboards and in the minifridge. He’s mildly disappointed not to find any mini bottles of liquor, but at least he has his full flask of whiskey in his pocket. When he finds the birthing ball, he can’t resist bouncing it a couple times like a basketball...until it bounces out of his control and smacks into the wall near Chloe. She rightfully glares at him, still on the phone. He mouths a sorry, Detective, and continues his exploration.
“Okay,” Chloe sighs, hanging up the phone five minutes later. “So according to Linda, she didn’t have any ‘celestial shenanigans’ during labor, and Emily wasn’t born with wings, obviously, so we shouldn’t have to worry about that.” She lifts both hands to shoulder height, crossing her index and middle fingers. “Actually, she said labor was smoother with Emily than with a human baby.” Her eyebrows furrow. "I'm not sure how she knows that, but whatever, I wasn’t going to ask.”
“Well, that certainly bodes well, yes? So, all we have to concern ourselves with are your wayward wings, and as I said, that’s easily dealt with. Chloe,” he says, sitting beside her and taking her hand, “worry about yourself and Lucas, and allow me to worry about everything else, hmm?”
She takes a deep breath, wincing. “Okay, I’ll try.”
He pushes some hair behind her ear. “Would you like me to braid your hair for you? So it’s not falling in your face?”
Her expression softens and she gives him that I love you, Lucifer smile. “Yeah, I’d appreciate that, thanks.”
The next several hours are much the same, Chloe going into contractions that are gradually coming closer together, and waiting. She does circuits through the room routinely at the encouragement of the doctor and nurse, Gladys, they learn, while holding onto Lucifer’s arm in case she has another contraction, and uses the birthing ball he’d been playing with earlier for its intended purpose.
Doctor Scheiffer checks up on her at least once an hour. Lucifer is actually rather impressed by the man; when they’d first met, he’d thought him a bit of a goofy idiot with his ridiculous jokes, but now that Chloe is here and in labor, he’s all business and no-nonsense.
Although Lucifer has read plenty of blogs about birthing a human baby stating that it can take hours and hours, he’d still had this image in his head that it would be like the movies: They come in and an hour later, they’re holding their baby. Not even close. In fact, Chloe informs Lucifer that Trixie’s birth took a grueling twenty-six hours to complete.
“I...beg your pardon...?” He stares at his partner in horror as he massages her back.
Chloe nods. “Yep. Dr. Scheiffer was worried about my energy levels waning, and was starting to talk about the possibility of a C-section; then, all of a sudden, Trixie decided to cooperate.”
“So, her whole devious little rascal routine has always been a thing?”
She snorts. “Definitely. It was worth it, though, in the end when I finally got to hold her and she opened those big eyes on me.” She sniffs a little like she’s getting emotional. It wouldn’t be the first time this afternoon.
“Well, I do hope my progeny doesn’t give you quite as difficult a time.”
Chloe shoots him an amused look over her shoulder. “Given how difficult a time you give me, I’m not counting on it.”
Fair point...
She leans back against his chest and he presses a kiss to her sweaty brow. “I forgot how tiring this is on top of the pain.”
“I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do for you, darling,” he says sincerely. If he could take this on for her, he’d do so in a heartbeat.
“Hey, you’re doing a lot,” she assures him, reaching for the hand he has on her shoulder. “Dan spent the whole time pacing, and every time I so much as winced he was shouting for a nurse, until I finally told him to sit down and shut up.” Lucifer snorts a laugh. “Then, when the time came, he complained that I was squeezing his hand too hard. And the idiot decided to go watch her head come out and immediately fainted.” Chloe looks at him as seriously as he’s ever seen her. “Lucifer, do not look down there while I’m giving birth, please.”
He scoffs. “I’m certainly not going to faint, Detective.”
“Maybe not, but one look and you’ll never want to have sex with me again.”
His jaw drops. “That would never happen,” he says, offended she could suggest such a thing.
“Lucifer, I’m serious, promise me you won’t look.”
Not that he was planning on it, anyway, but... “As you wish, Detective,” he sighs. “I shall hitherto not glance between your lovely thighs until we’re home again. Acceptable?”
“Hitherto?” she echoes through a laugh.
“What?” he asks cluelessly. “It’s a perfectly acceptable adverb, darling.”
She shakes her head, looking at him as best she can in her position. “I love you,” she says softly.
He kisses her cheek. “And I, you.”
Further conversation is cut off by yet another contraction.
By 10 p.m., they are eight hours from the moment Chloe’s water broke and she's only about halfway to being ready to begin pushing. Though the man is trying to hide it, Dr. Scheiffer clearly thought she would be further along with labor by now. It’s as though Lucas started making his journey, then decided to stop mid-way and take a nap. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the child’s mother, who is already wiped out and yet unable to rest due to continuing contractions.
The medical staff seems flummoxed as to why Chloe’s labor has hit a pause. Lucifer wonders if this is all due to Lucas being an angel and therefore not following the usual rules.
Then, around 4 a.m., things finally start happening more quickly.
During one of his now every thirty minutes checkups, Dr. Scheiffer announces Chloe is finally at ten centimeters. And that it’s time to start pushing. Lucifer hides every ounce of apprehension he possesses, focusing instead on supporting Chloe, who is far more important than his own existential crises. It’s still an hour and a half until the main moment. And in that time, she does indeed threaten to never have sex with him again while calling him names, one of which is “giant angelic pigeon”. Lucifer manages not to laugh.
“I can’t!” Chloe cries from exertion, covered in a sheen of sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead as she collapses back against Lucifer. She’s exhausted, and spent, and in pain, and he’s never felt more sympathy for another person than he does right this moment.
“Just one more big push, Chloe,” the doctor calls from between her legs. “Come on, you can do it!”
She’s breathless, eyes closed as her head lolls onto Lucifer’s shoulder. “I just want to sleep. Please...”
Lucifer looks worriedly from her to the doctor, who is continuing to encourage her firmly. Chloe Decker, you listen to me. I have never, in all my tireless existence, met a stronger, braver, more determined being than you. I have never had faith in anybody the way I have faith in you. You can do this, do you hear me?
Lucifer, I can’t. Even in prayer she sounds beyond wrecked. It hurts so much...
His heart aches. I know, darling, I know it does, but it’s almost over, I promise, and then you can rest all you desire. You have my word. Just one more push, my strong, brave Detective.
She sobs tiredly.
For me? Can you do it for me, Chloe? Or for our son—Lucas needs you to be strong just a little longer.
That seems to reenergize her, the reminder of why she’s doing this in the first place. She nods weakly. “For Lucas,” she whispers. She takes a few breaths, squeezes Lucifer’s hands, and pushes again, her shout strangled from exertion and pain.
Lucifer can feel her wings trying to make their escape and he presses his chest firmly against her back, forcing them to remain where they are. He continually whispers encouragement into her ear, “You’re doing so well, darling, just a little more, you can do this, I love you so much, Chloe...” and finally, there’s movement down at the business end of things, Chloe lets out a final groan, then falls back against him, utterly spent. Lucifer presses a hard, lingering kiss to the side of her head. “Well done, darl—”
He’s cut off by a sudden, sharp, high-pitched wail. Chloe lets out a tired but happy laugh, turning to press her forehead into Lucifer’s neck.
On February 8, 2019, Lucas John Morningstar was born at 6:44 a.m.—precisely at sunrise.
Notes:
The second Lightbringer cometh... 👼
Chapter 10: Lucas John Morningstar
Notes:
Early update for anyone who needs some distraction and fluff in their life.
Chapter Text
Somehow, Lucifer finds himself in a chair beside Chloe’s bed, watching with some sense of detachment as a nurse cleans and wraps their son in a blanket, then brings him to Chloe. She’s crying and smiling as she holds her arms out for him, then he is all she has eyes for.
“Hi, baby, I’m your mommy,” she whispers, her voice full of wonder and awe and love. “Hi, Lucas.” She lowers her head to press the gentlest of kisses to the infant’s forehead. She looks over to Lucifer hopefully. “Wanna get in on this and meet your son?”
He swallows, hard, uncertain whether he can even move at the moment, all the adrenaline from the last sixteen hours gone in a blink along with his old fears, only to be replaced with all new ones that he can’t even begin to identify at the moment. When he doesn’t respond, Chloe frowns briefly, but seems to understand he needs a moment to collect himself, so she turns back to Lucas, giving him some time.
There is some distant part of his mind, the very tiniest of fractions, that is telling him to run out that door as quickly as he can, then fly as far as his wings can carry him. Back to Hell ought to be far enough, right? It's telling him he's only going to screw this up, the way he does everything else in his life. That he will only disappoint them, the way he disappointed his family in the Silver City. That he has no business raising a child; that he doesn't deserve any sort of happiness. And if he stays, he'll poison everything good around him, because that's all he is—poison.
He silences the voice instantly as something that will never happen, no matter how terrified he is of failing everyone who matters most in his life. He could never leave Chloe, for one; and he will never be like his father—abandoning his children, rejecting them, making them feel like monsters.
What’s more, he doesn’t want to leave them. This is his family, the one he has found and created all on his own, and he will never walk, or fly, away from them. Despite his fears, he wants to raise his son at Chloe’s side, to see him grow and learn, to teach him to fly, and to become a man. He bloody well wants it all.
Then stop being a dumbass and go meet your kid... whispers a voice that is all Mazikeen.
Pushing himself slowly to his feet, he steps forward, catching Chloe’s attention and she gives him the most amazing, beautiful, tired smile she has ever given him. “Look, Lucas, your daddy is here, too,” she whispers to the boy in her arms.
Lucifer huffs a breath at the word daddy, feeling his eyes sting and his vision go blurry. He doesn’t quite trust himself to speak yet, but he does reach out to Chloe, brushing the backs of his fingers down her cheek lovingly, and not taking his eyes from Lucas.
Already, the child has a dark shock of curls on his tiny little warped head, and Lucifer’s complexion and eye shape. That little nose is all Chloe, though, including the way it scrunches up. His eyes are squeezed shut, so Lucifer can’t tell whose he has there, though he hopes he’s inherited Chloe’s eye color. Lucifer has never thought much of babies in the past, and even more recently when he first met his niece, but now... He can’t bloody take his eyes off of this one, even if he looks like little more than a wrinkly, scrunched-up, little alien. Because this one is his, and Chloe’s, and he’s utterly, completely fascinating—
And why the bloody hell is this nurse trying to take him from Chloe?
“Uh, excuse me!” he starts indignantly.
Chloe doesn’t seem surprised by the move and the nurse smiles understandingly. “I’m just taking your little one to get cleaned up and examined quickly, then I’ll bring him right back to you, I promise,” she explains.
“Surely you can do that here?” He’s not particularly eager to have their baby out of his sight right now, with his earlier concerns that Remiel will make her move.
“We won’t be five minutes,” the nurse says in a gentle but no-nonsense way, lifting the child from his mother’s arms and placing him in some sort of clear, portable bassinet. Then she’s wheeling him out the door. Lucifer has half a mind to follow.
Chloe reaches for his hand. “He’ll be okay,” she reassures soothingly.
“Right...” he says slowly, unwilling to upset her by sharing his concerns.
Wincing, Chloe scoots over in the bed. “Sit with me?”
Helpless against her desires, Lucifer kicks off his shoes and does as requested as gently as possible, easing an arm behind her neck. “How are you, Detective?”
She laughs exhaustedly. “Tired. Sore. But so happy,” she answers, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. She runs a hand along his chest. “You?”
“Honestly? A bit overwhelmed.”
“That’ll pass,” she says confidently.
“You did so well, Chloe,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her lips. “I’m so bloody proud of you.”
She cups his cheek kissing him back. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
He scoffs. “I wasn’t the one doing all the work, Detective. I was merely the moral support.”
“You were the one who reminded me why I was doing what I was doing in the first place,” she argues. “Sorry for saying I would never have sex with you ever again, by the way. And for calling you a giant angelic pigeon.”
Lucifer chuckles. “Oh, I knew that was an empty threat, darling, you’re nearly as insatiable as I am. I mean, really, how can you possibly resist this?” He waves a hand at himself. Chloe laughs, dropping her head to his shoulder. “I don’t know if you noticed your wings trying to make their getaway?”
“I think I might have noticed? But I also really did not care at that point.”
“Can’t say I blame you, darling...”
There’s a knock on the door a minute later and Lucifer lets out a sigh of relief at the sight of the smiling nurse pushing the wheeled bassinet back inside. “And here we are again, Mommy and Daddy,” Gladys coos, reaching inside for the bundle that’s now wrapped in a clean, light blue blanket like a burrito. “Everything looks perfect with your little one.”
Which means he definitely doesn’t have wings, because they would have noticed two little skin pouches on his back, Chloe prays, relieved.
They would have written them off as birthmarks or some such, Lucifer dismisses as their son is placed in Chloe’s arms again. Unless the wings actually popped out, they wouldn’t have noticed a bloody thing.
Chloe doesn’t reply, too busy smiling down at their baby, who now has a little blue knit cap on his head. She carefully tugs the blanket lower so they can get a better look at his face. “He’s perfect,” she breathes.
“Well, of course he is; he’s ours,” Lucifer murmurs automatically, wondering if he’s ever been this fascinated by anything more. Well, other than Chloe Decker. “But I do agree with your assessment, Detective.”
“Do you want to hold him?”
“Uh...” Lucifer stares between the baby and Chloe, a deer in headlights. “I’m not...that is...I wouldn’t want to drop him.”
Chloe gives him a look. “You’re not going to drop him,” she says with utter confidence he doesn’t feel in the slightest. “I’ve seen you hold Emily, so you know how to hold a baby.”
“Yes, but this one is smaller...”
“It’s okay if you’re not ready,” she says kindly, understandingly. “It took Dan hours to hold Trixie the first time.”
He sighs, feeling like he’s letting her down somehow, even though, rationally, he knows that isn’t the case. He does, however, reach out to brush his finger along his son’s soft cheek. Lucas responds by puckering his lips and moving his mouth. “Is he trying to speak?”
Biting back a laugh, Chloe shakes her head. “No. He’s hungry, probably. Help me untie my gown?”
“Help you get undressed? Don’t mind if I do,” he says with exaggerated eagerness, hoping to make her smile or roll her eyes—he gets both. Then he watches Chloe expertly guide their son’s mouth to her breast. It takes a few minutes, but he finally latches on, instinctively beginning his first meal. “Yes, I quite like your mother’s breasts, as well,” he tells the child, which earns him another look. He smiles charmingly at her.
When he finishes feeding, Chloe asks for one of the rags that are stacked on the wall beside Lucifer and puts Lucas at her shoulder, patting his back to burp him with only minor spit-up.
“I suppose I should begin getting used to bodily fluids,” Lucifer says dryly.
“They never bothered you before,” Chloe quips right back. He snorts a laugh. She lets out a huge yawn, barely able to keep her eyes open. Carefully, she places the baby back into his bassinet. “I’m gonna take a quick nap, if that’s okay.”
Lucifer looks at her incredulously. Only Chloe Decker would ask if it’s okay to take a bloody nap after a sixteen-hour labor. “Chloe, you may sleep as bloody long as you need to,” he says gently. “We aren’t going anywhere, you have my word.”
“‘Kay...” She’s asleep before her head hits his shoulder.
It occurs to him he probably should have asked if she’s ready to inform the others of their new family member’s arrival. He isn’t entirely certain he wants them to know yet; he’s still wrapping his mind around the whole thing and he wants to keep Lucas to themselves for as long as possible. When Chloe wakes, she can make that decision, but for now, Lucifer just wants to enjoy the moment.
A few minutes later, Lucas begins quietly whimpering in his bassinet, wriggling around a tiny bit. Lucifer watches him for a moment, uncertain if he needs something or if he’s just fussing, but then the whimpers start growing louder. Glancing at Chloe’s sleeping, snoring form, her eyebrows furrow as if, even in a deep sleep, she can still hear her son’s complaints.
“Shh,” Lucifer says from his place in the bed. “Please, don’t wake your mum, she’s had quite the day, thanks to you.” His request does nothing—because a baby who is not even an hour old doesn’t understand words. “Right,” he says under his breath. “Nothing for it, then...” He carefully extricates himself from Chloe, laying her head on the pillow—she doesn’t wake, thankfully—and he walks around to stand over the bassinet—and his son.
Lucas’s little face is even more scrunched up and Lucifer already gets the sense that if he doesn’t do something quickly, this child is going into full-on wailing banshee mode. And Chloe needs her rest. “Right,” he sighs, gulping, as he carefully reaches in with both hands, one beneath Lucas’s head, the other sliding beneath his body. He hardly weighs anything and his tiny body could probably fit into one of Lucifer’s large hands. The whimpers and whines falter at the movement and Lucifer lifts him to his chest.
“There, there, little one,” he murmurs. “We can handle this without Chloe, yes?”
Not wanting to risk dropping his son, Lucifer cautiously returns to the chair beside the bed and sits, cradling the infant close to him. “There, now, that isn’t so bad, is it?” he whispers. Whether Lucas just wanted attention (which Lucifer is sure Chloe would say is on brand for being his son), or if he recognizes Lucifer’s voice, the Devil doesn’t know, but the complaints taper off to almost nothing. He sighs in relief, stealing a glance towards the bed—Chloe is still fast asleep.
Turning his attention to the tiny boy cradled to his chest, he adjusts his hold to one arm when Lucas manages to free one of his own arms from the blanket, and brushes his index finger across an impossibly small hand. That small hand immediately grasps onto the finger, not quite wrapping around it completely, but holding on with more strength than Lucifer would have imagined such a tiny creature possessing.
He sucks in a breath, feeling his eyes water. His son is holding his finger, refusing to let go... With his thumb he brushes along the fingers curled around his own, memorizing every single detail about Lucas that he can. Then, slowly, the boy’s eyes flutter open and Lucifer gasps again, because he’s staring at Chloe’s eyes.
“Hello, there,” he says softly, chuckling wetly. “Look at you... I know your mum already introduced us, but I’m...well. I’m your dad, I suppose.” He shakes his head, incredulous and unconvinced that this isn’t a dream. Lucas stares up at him, unfocused but attentive. “I don’t know how good of one I’ll be, but you have my word, Lucas, that I’ll always try my best. And I will always be there for you, no matter what. I may not have initially been particularly excited about this whole fatherhood lark, but there was never a moment I didn’t want you. That I didn’t love you, even if I didn’t quite realize it myself at the time.
“And I do—love you, that is, more than you could possibly know.” He huffs a laugh. “Well, I suppose you don’t know much of anything yet, do you? But my point still stands. I will always love you, Lucas, no matter what you do, no matter what happens. You will never be left in the dark, believing yourself a monster, the way I was for so long. I’ve only recently started to believe I’m not a monster myself, and that is all down to your mother. Oh, you have the best mother any child could ask for; just ask your big sister, who you’ll meet later today, I’m sure. But your mum... She’s been so excited to meet you, you know, from the moment she found out about you. She loves you, too, and will always love you, just as I will.
“I know the day will come that you’ll learn the truth of who your father is, Lucas, and while I will never lie to you, you will undoubtedly learn things about me that may make you look upon me differently. Much of what the world believes me to be are bald-faced lies, but there is some truth to a small fraction of it. I’ll try to explain when that day comes; just know I’d never hurt you, in any way. Certainly not intentionally; I imagine there will be a time or two when I screw up, but...at least your mother will be there to keep us in line, hmm?
“One thing you’ll learn about is my Rebellion and my Fall. You see, I had a...disagreement with my father, your grandfather, and it resulted in literal Hell. I’ve not spoken to Him since and I’ve no desire to, either. He’s a right bast—er...bad person.” He frowns at himself. Is he seriously censoring himself with a creature that doesn’t understand a word he’s saying? “My point is, I don’t ever want that for us, Lucas. So you’ve my word that I will always hear you out, and that no matter what sorts of disagreements we may have, I will never throw you away the way my father did with me. Never. You will always have a home with your family.”
He smiles when the baby lets out a yawn; it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen in his life. “Yes, you’ve had quite the difficult day yourself, haven’t you? Suddenly thrust into a strange new world without understanding why—that, I can empathize with. Get some rest, son, we can chat later, hmm?”
As if he understands, though surely it’s coincidence, Lucas blinks a few times, then closes his eyes. Lucifer begins to sing, “Close your eyes, have no fear, the monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your daddy’s here...”
Chloe blinks her eyes open and faintly hears the sound of singing. Only, it isn’t any language she recognizes; it’s lyrical in and of itself, beautiful...ethereal. Her vision focuses and she immediately smiles at the sight in front of her: Lucifer is staring raptly down at their sleeping son in his arms, rocking slightly back and forth and singing softly. His eyes are bright and he’s smiling in a way Chloe has never seen him do with anybody but her before. It’s the most beautiful scene she’s ever seen.
She waits until he’s finished with his song before speaking. “Hey,” she whispers.
Lucifer’s gaze snaps to her and his smile widens. “Hey, yourself. Sleep well?”
“Mmm, I could definitely sleep for a couple weeks,” she says wryly, “but I feel a little better.”
“Good.”
She looks at her sleeping son. “How’s he?”
Smiling, Lucifer looks down at the bundle in his arms. “He’s bloody brilliant,” he says with a short chuckle. “He opened his eyes.”
Her eyes widen. “He did?” she says in amazement. He nods. “And?”
“He’s got your eye color exactly,” he says proudly.
Chloe covers her mouth to muffle her wondrous laugh. “Yeah?”
“See for yourself...” Lucifer carefully stands and walks over to the bed, waiting for Chloe to get in position, then hands her their son.
She looks down just as Lucas is opening his eyes. While it’s typical for babies to have blue eyes, then to change, this particular shade is rather unique—at least, according to Lucifer. “Eye color can change, you know,” she warns, then turns her attention to the baby. “Hi, Lucas, you are so adorable.”
“Hmm, he gets that from you,” Lucifer says, sliding into the bed beside her and putting his arm around her so he can better lean over her shoulder. “That little nose scrunchy thing...that’s pure Chloe Decker. Oh, now you’re awake, darling, it’s time for our first family selfie, don’t you think?”
Chloe looks over at him. “Oh, Lucifer, no...I’m a complete mess.”
“You’re beautiful,” he says earnestly. “You have never been more beautiful to me.”
Flattered though she is by his words, he is extremely biased. Still, he gives her that puppy-dog look she’s certain he’ll teach their son if it isn’t passed down genetically, and she finds it difficult to say no to him, tired as she is. “Okay, fine...”
Beaming, Lucifer reaches for his phone then angles it in a way that gets all three of their faces in frame. “Say Happy birthday, Gremlin!” He snaps several of them, then several more of Lucas himself.
“We should probably let everybody know he’s here,” Chloe says regretfully; she’s kind of enjoying it being just the three of them.
“I wasn’t certain if you were ready to make that announcement yet,” Lucifer tells her, already back to staring at their son.
“Hmm... Much longer, and Ella and Maze will just storm the hospital themselves,” she says dryly. “Just make sure everyone knows when visiting hours are.” She gestures to a little posted sign on the wall.
Chuckling, Lucifer composes a group text message. Responses flood in immediately.
“Are we telling your mother now?” Lucifer asks her.
Chloe curls her lip, but knows if she doesn’t tell her mom, there’s going to be hell to pay. It’s bad enough they waited this long to bring her up to speed. “Yeah,” she holds out her hand for the phone, “I’ll call her. Hold him, please?”
Lucifer carefully takes Lucas from her, murmuring softly to his whimpered complaints at being moved. She smiles at his wallpaper photo: a selfie of the two of them where he’s grinning like the Devil he is and Chloe is kissing one cheek and cupping the other. Penelope is in Lucifer’s contacts under Mama Decker, naturally.
Penelope doesn’t answer until the fourth ring, just as Chloe thinks it’s going to roll over to voicemail. “Well, hello, Lucifer,” she says in a flirtatious tone that makes Chloe want to gag.
“No, Mom, it’s me,” she says flatly.
Immediately, Penelope’s tone changes to normal. “Oh, hi, Pumpkin. Why are you calling from Lucifer’s phone?”
“Well, I’m honestly not sure where my phone is at the moment... I just wanted to let you know that Lucifer and I are at the hospital, and I had the baby this morning,” Chloe says quickly, bracing herself.
As expected, “Chloe Jane Decker! Why didn’t you call me when you got to the hospital? I would have been there!”
Gritting her teeth, Chloe forces herself to answer, “I had Lucifer here, Mom, and the hospital doesn’t allow people to wait.”
Penelope scoffs. “They would allow me,” she says petulantly. “But very well...I can’t get away from filming today, anyway.” Chloe bites back a scream. Lucifer gives her a sympathetic smile, rocking their son. “I’ll come visit tomorrow. How are you feeling, Pumpkin? How’s little Liam?”
“Well, his name is Lucas, and we’re both good. Tired and sore, of course, but he’s perfectly healthy, even being almost four weeks early,” Chloe tells her.
“Has Trixie met him yet? She must be so excited!”
“No, Dan’s bringing her this evening, But yes, she’s very excited.”
“Well, you’d think becoming a big sister would warrant a day out of school, at least,” Penelope sniffs haughtily. Chloe makes a noncommittal sound. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing well, sweetie. I have to get back on set, give Lucifer and Liam my love.”
“Lucas,” Chloe says through gritted teeth.
“Ta, Pumpkin!”
Chloe takes a very deep breath through her nose and lets it out slowly through her mouth so that she doesn’t scream and terrify her newborn son. “You see now why I didn’t want to call her?”
Lucifer makes a face. “I’m starting to understand why she and my brother get on so well,” he says dryly.
To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Ella Lopez is their first visitor at 1 p.m. on the dot. Lucifer happens to be up when she knocks on the door. When he opens it, he immediately jumps back to avoid being bowled over by what must be a five-foot tall, giant teddy bear, half a dozen balloons, an overflowing bag of toys, and somewhere in the middle of that chaos, Ella Lopez.
“Where’s my godson?” comes her muffled voice.
Lucifer rolls his eyes at the godson comment. “Miss Lopez, do stop and allow me to alleviate you of some of this—” Ella takes a few steps into the room and drops everything but the balloons. “Or not...”
Ella’s eyes are locked on Lucas who is fast asleep again in Chloe’s arms after his most recent feeding. “Awwww, look at him,” she coos, “so adorable, you guys! But then I’d expect nothing else from Deckerstar. Hi, Lucas... How are you feeling, Chloe?”
“Tired,” Chloe answers as Lucifer steps over the mess in the middle of the room and rejoins her on the bed. “And sore. But we’re good; Lucas is perfectly healthy, so that’s all that matters.”
“Half this stuff is from people at the precinct,” Ella says, waving at the bag of toys. She ties the balloons to a nearby monitor. “Can I hold him?” Chloe hesitates. Ella pauses. “Or we’re not ready for that yet; that’s cool, too.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Chloe says, taking a breath. “Really.”
Ella raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You sure about that?” she asks slowly.
Chloe nods. “Yeah, it’s fine, I’m tired and being silly... Please, hold him if you’d like.”
Beaming and bouncing excitedly, Ella steps forward, visibly relaxing before she reaches out for the baby in Chloe’s arms. Gently, she takes Lucas from her, and Chloe has to stifle the urge to take her baby back. It’s ridiculous and a bit bitchy, but part of her doesn’t want anybody except for Lucifer and herself to hold him right now.
Ella coos down at the baby, rocking gently back and forth, then looks back up at Chloe and smiles. “Lucifer must’ve had a rough night, huh?”
Chloe frowns. “What?” Then she turns to find her fiancé fast asleep at her side, head lolled back and mouth wide open, and smiles herself, shaking her head. “He was amazing, actually. Even when I was breaking his hand and threatening to never have sex with him ever again, he never left my side, never once even hesitated to do what I needed to have done.”
“You got yourself a great guy, there, lady,” Ella says, nodding. “And such a beautiful baby.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Chloe says, yawning.
Ella gives her a sympathetic look. “Well, I won’t stay long, you should get as much rest as you can before this little guy takes everything over. I just wanted to come by and bring the stuff the guys at the precinct gave me for you. Big Bear is from me, though,” Ella says happily, pressing a light kiss to the still sleeping baby’s head and handing him back to Chloe.
“Aw, thank you, Ella, that’s very sweet. And thanks for my go-bag last night, that stuff was a lifesaver.” Ella had packed some trail mix and other snacks, plus one of Chloe’s pillows from home, and other necessities she hadn’t thought to mention needing.
Ella waves her off, picking up the dropped toys and arranging them in a corner. “We’re Tribe, baby, that’s how we do. Do you guys need anything else? I can come back tonight...?”
“No, I think we’re good. We're both just wiped out from this little one’s dramatic entrance.”
Ella leaves shortly after, and Chloe settles Lucas in his bassinet, then turns onto her side to try to get some sleep, too. When she scoots back into Lucifer, he throws his arm around her waist, careful to avoid her belly, even in his sleep, as he’s been doing the last six months, and presses his nose into her hair, a happy sound coming from his throat. WIth both of her boys sleeping on either side of her, Chloe closes her eyes—
—only to be awoken fifteen minutes later by loud pounding on the door.
“Bloo’y ‘ell, go ‘way,” Lucifer grumbles.
Chloe huffs a laugh, rubbing his arm. “Babe, wake up, we have a visitor.”
“Tell ‘em g’way,” he half-groans, half-whines.
“Yeah, I don’t think we have a choice... Come in,” she says a bit louder, seeing Lucas is still fast asleep.
But the door of their room slamming open wakes him with a sharp cry. Lucifer is on his feet in a defensive position between them and whoever is at the door like he freaking teleported. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Chloe murmurs, reaching over to rub his belly to calm him, staring at the door warily. She relaxes a second later when Maze stalks in.
“Bloody hell, Mazikeen, do you not know the meaning of decorum?” Lucifer snaps irritably. “You woke the baby, well bloody done.”
“Well, the baby is why I’m here. Definitely not to see your grumpy ass,” Maze says snarkily. “Not my fault these doors aren’t heavy enough.”
Rolling his eyes, Lucifer picks Lucas up to soothe his cries. The boy’s crying tapers almost immediately at his father’s touch, which Chloe thinks is just...so freaking sweet and cute. “Hush, now, Lucas, it’s only Auntie Maze causing a scene, as always. You’ll get used to it,” he soothes.
Maze is staring at the baby as Eve trails in behind her. “Sorry! Sorry, I tried to tell her you were probably sleeping...” Eve apologizes.
Lucifer sits on the edge of Chloe’s bed with the baby. “No need to apologize, Eve,” he says, glaring at the demon.
“I’m not apologizing,” she says petulantly. “So, this is the Prince of Hell, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s one moniker I’d rather he didn’t have...” Chloe says wryly.
“Likewise,” Lucifer mutters.
Maze snorts. “Too bad, kinda comes with being the Devil’s kid. He’s smaller than Emily was.”
“Possibly because he was born a month early?” Lucifer snarks. “He’s perfect as he is.”
“He’s so cute, Luce... He looks just like you!” Eve chirps.
The Devil smiles shyly. “But with Chloe’s nose and eyes,” he says, shooting Chloe herself a smile.
“Can I hold him?” Eve asks hopefully.
Lucifer looks to Chloe for permission; Chloe nods. “Sure.”
Though he seems reluctant, he passes their son over to the first woman, who holds him expertly. “Just look at those itty bitty fingers, Mazie,” Eve squeals softly. Maze doesn’t seem to know what to make of Lucas. She was the same way with Linda’s daughter.
The two women visit for a little while longer, at least until Lucas makes it clear he needs his diaper changed for the first time.
“He is all yours, Luce. I changed enough diapers in my time.”
“You didn’t have diapers, Eve,” Lucifer quips, taking back his son with a sigh.
Chloe smirks when he tries to hand Lucas off to her. “Oh, no...I gave birth to him; you can change a diaper.” Lucifer makes a face but relents.
Watching the Devil change his first diaper is...hysterical. Maze and Eve linger to watch the show, much to his annoyance. Actually, Chloe is kind of impressed; Dan couldn’t get through his first diaper change without a trip to vomit in the trash can. Twice. And though Lucifer does gag a couple of times, nobody in the room can blame him for it, because...yeah, that’s bad. Still, Lucifer’s technique is a little clumsy and stiff at the same time, but he manages to get the diaper on in the right direction and so that it stays on. Following Trixie’s first diaper change, the diaper fell off...and Trixie decided it would be funny to pee all over Dan.
“Not bad,” Chloe says, impressed, checking the fit of the diaper. It’s just about perfect. She makes just the smallest adjustment. “Good job, babe.”
Lucifer preens. “Why, thank you.”
Maze looks suspicious. “How’d you get so good at that? Amenadiel can still barely change Emily’s diaper without it falling off.”
“Yes, well, I’m not Amenadiel, am I? And thank Dad for that...”
“Whatever, let me know when he’s able to hold a blade.”
Chloe purses her lips. “We’ll get right on that,” she says sarcastically. “Thank you for visiting, guys, it means a lot.’
“Of course, Chloe!” Eve says, carefully hugging the detective. “Get some rest, okay?”
“We were trying before Maze barged in,” Lucifer grumbles, setting Lucas back in his bassinet. Maze sticks her tongue out at him.
Once the Devil and demon stop bickering like siblings, Eve is able to drag her out of the room, leaving just the Decker-Morningstars. “Are you hungry, Detective? I can order you in some lunch rather than you being expected to eat whatever sludge the hospital intends to provide for you?”
“I could eat,” Chloe says, only realizing now she’s not really eaten in more than twenty-four hours. “Just something light, please.”
“I shall take care of it. Close your eyes again, love, I’d imagine anyone else who visits will text ahead first.”
Chloe doesn’t protest.
With his partner asleep again for the time being and his son content, Lucifer places an order for their late lunch—the same diner they had for lunch yesterday at the precinct. Sandwiches and soup. When that’s done, Lucifer steps into the attached room and calls his brother, who answers on the second ring.
“Luci, how are Chloe and the baby?”
“Brother. They’re both doing well and resting currently, but that isn’t why I’m calling,” Lucifer says, not wasting time. “You never said whether your little angelic clone still has designs on my son.”
Amenadiel sighs. “I’m fairly certain I talked Remi down, Luci. And Raphael happened to overhear the conversation and wasn’t at all impressed with her behavior on Earth, either. None of the other angels have any interest in caring for an infant, let alone raising one. Not even Remiel would have known what to do with a baby—yours or mine.”
“Comforting,” Lucifer says sarcastically. Though the fact that Raphael actually stepped in is actually a slight relief; at least he has a brain in his head, and thinks ahead rather than acting on impulse like most other angels, Lucifer included. “But do I need to be worried about my son sleeping elsewhere whilst Chloe is still in hospital?”
“No, I really don’t think so, Luci. If you’re truly worried, keep Lucas with you and Chloe. Emily slept in Linda’s room after she was born, too.”
Lucifer sighs in relief. “I think we’ll do that, just to be on the safe side, then. Are you and the doctor intending to come for a visit?”
“I think Linda wants to wait until Chloe is home, to give all of you some time to be together. But I am glad to hear they’re doing well. How are you coping, Luci?”
Lucifer huffs a laugh. “Well enough, I suppose,” he sighs, peeking in to check on his sleeping family. “Everything is a bit surreal, to tell the truth, brother.”
“It still seems that way to me, but that could be the lack of sleep talking,” Amenadiel says dryly. Lucifer hears a crying baby in the distance. “And that’s my cue, brother. I need to check on my daughter.”
“Yes, speak soon, brother.” Lucifer ends the call, then switches to the camera mode and snaps a photo of Lucas with his hand stretched out towards Chloe, and Chloe’s hand hanging over the edge of the bassinet towards Lucas. Both are still fast asleep.
With a smile, he presses a kiss to each of their foreheads, then retakes his chair and plays Candy Crush until lunch arrives.
When Chloe opens her eyes again, she frowns when she finds the bassinet empty and feels a jolt of panic until she hears Lucifer’s low voice in the next room. From her vantage point, she can see her partner at the large window, showing the city of Los Angeles off to their newborn son. She smiles. Glancing at the clock in the room, she realizes she’s managed to sleep for hours; Lucas will likely need to nurse soon.
“What are you two up to?” she calls teasingly.
Lucifer turns and beams at her. “Well, hello, sleepyhead. We were just taking in the view. I don’t think he’s particularly impressed yet.” Lucas seems more interested in stretching his arm out and flexing his fingers. When he starts to whine, Chloe reaches for him.
“Here, he’s probably hungry; it’s been awhile since he nursed.”
Lucifer promptly hands over their son. “I imagine Daniel and the Urchin will be here shortly; it’s nearly visiting hours again,” he reminds her. “You should probably eat, yourself, Detective.
Chloe nods absently, helping Lucas latch on to her boob again. “I will; he’s more important, though.”
They do manage to get both Chloe and Lucas fed, and the latter burped and diaper-changed by the time Dan is knocking on their door. He pops his head around, smiling. “Hey, hey. You up for an excited visitor?”
Chloe grins. “Absolutely,” she says happily. With Trixie here, their family will be complete. Her daughter slips past their father, craning her head around the room in search of her baby brother. “Hey, Monkey.”
“Hi, Mommy.” She beams and, barely containing excitement (Dan must have warned her to be quiet and calm so as to not upset the baby), she comes right over to the bed, hugging her mother. Then her eyes find her baby brother. She gasps, curling her hands around the edge of the bassinet. “He’s so tiny!”
“He’ll be tiny for a while,” Chloe says softly, brushing a finger across Lucas’s forehead. “So, we’ll have to be really, extra careful around him, okay?”
Trixie nods dutifully. “Okay. Can I hold him?”
Chloe hesitates. “Not today, Monkey,” she says apologetically. “Let’s wait until we get him home first, okay?”
Pouting a little, Trixie slides her finger across Lucas’s palm and he immediately, reflexively grasps it with his whole hand. “He’s holding my finger!” she announces excitedly to the room.
“He probably recognizes your voice,” Chloe says with a smile. It warms her heart immensely to see her two babies interact together. She can already see adoration in Trixie’s eyes for her baby brother; she’s going to be a wonderful sister. “You can talk to him. He won’t really understand what you’re saying, but he likes hearing our voices.”
“Mine, especially,” Lucifer says smugly. Chloe gives him a look, but can’t really deny it. Every time Lucifer speaks to the baby, Lucas turns his head in his direction immediately.
“Hi, Lucas,” Trixie says softly. “I’m Trixie, I’m your big sister. We’re gonna have so much fun together when you’re bigger.”
Lucas’s face scrunches, not like he’s going to cry, but almost in response to Trixie’s words, if Chloe didn’t know better. He turns his head to look at the older girl and his eyes open wide.
“Look at those eyes,” Dan says, smiling widely. “Just like yours, Chloe. How you feeling, by the way? Everything go okay?”
Chloe nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Tired and sore, still,” she repeats for the nth time. “But everything went well, once he actually decided to get a move on.”
“Did it hurt, Mommy?” Trixie asks.
“Yeah, it did, Monkey, but you know what? It was worth it, because now we have your brother.”
“Did it hurt when I was born?”
Chloe huffs. “You actually took a lot longer to be born. I think you just wanted to make a grand entrance.” She pokes her daughter’s side to make her giggle. “But like with Lucas, it was worth it, because your dad and I got you.”
“Yes, Daniel,” Chloe can hear Lucifer’s smirk, “about that.” Chloe groans, throwing Dan an apologetic glance. “I hear you fainted.”
Dan gives Chloe a deadpan look. “I didn’t faint, okay? It was a really long couple days, I was tired, it happens.”
Lucifer snickers. “That isn’t what I heard,” he sing-songs.
“I really regret telling you things sometimes,” Chloe tells Lucifer dryly. The idiot just grins at her.
Trixie turns to her father, grinning. “You fainted, Daddy? That’s funny.”
“I didn’t...” Dan gives up shaking his head, and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Whatever. I bet you didn’t even look.”
“No, I did not,” Lucifer says primly. “Because I was busy assisting my partner and ensuring her level of comfort—and restraining her wings.”
Dan blinks. “Right. Because Chloe has wings now, I keep blocking that out for some reason...”
“Did your wings come out, Mommy?” Trixie asks innocently.
“No, baby, they didn’t. Lucifer was able to keep them hidden.”
Trixie nods. “That’s good, they’re supposed to be a secret, anyway,” she says sagely.
Dan and Trixie stay for another hour or so, until Lucas demands to be fed again. “All right, Monkey, let’s give Mommy and Lucas some time to rest. We can come back tomorrow after school again, okay?” Dan suggests.
“But I wanna stay with Mom and Lucifer and Lucas,” Trixie protests, turning to appeal to Chloe with puppy dog eyes. “Can I stay here, Mommy, please?”
“No, baby, you can’t. It’s against hospital rules. Lucifer and I need to focus on Lucas tonight, okay? You can come visit tomorrow, and we can all have dinner together, how’s that?” Chloe tries to placate. As much as she’d love to have both her kids with her, it’s just not feasible tonight of all nights. “Besides, Lucas is going to be crying really loud a lot in the middle of the night, I bet. You’ll sleep better at your Dad’s.”
Trixie makes a face, though Chloe isn’t sure what about. “Okay,” she says, filling the word with as much disappointment and displeasure as she can manage. “Bye, Lucas. Be nice to Mom, okay? I love you.” She stands on tiptoe to lean over the bassinet to kiss her brother’s head.
Chloe’s heart melts. “Okay, give me a hug, Trix. I love you so much,” she murmurs into her daughter’s hair. “You be good for your dad, okay?”
Trixie nods into her shoulder. “I will, Mom.” When she lets go of Chloe, she walks around the bed to hug Lucifer as well. “Take care of Mom and Lucas, okay, Lucifer?”
Lucifer actually hugs her back rather than just patting her on the head or shoulders. “You have my word, Urchin,” he says softly. “See you soon.”
Once again, Chloe lowers her gown and picks up her new son to feed him. “And so it begins,” she says in a mock-foreboding tone to Lucifer. He smiles, eyes locked on Lucas as he feeds. “See something you like, there, Satan?”
“My two favorite people,” he says sweetly, leaning over to kiss her, reaching out to cup Lucas’s head. “I should have said before...” He gives her the most emotionally-charged look he’s ever given her. “Thank you, Chloe.” He presses his lips together when his bottom one wobbles and his voice breaks. “For giving me this—a home; a purpose; a family.” He shakes his head, his eyes wet. Chloe feels her own burn. “I love you. I love both of you. So very much.”
She reaches out with one hand, cradling her son with the other arm, and wipes away the tear that falls down his cheek. “We love you, too, Lucifer,” she whispers. “You’ve given me just as much, you know.”
“I can’t describe...” He clears his throat, looking truly at a loss for words, and shakes his head.
“I know,” Chloe says simply.
She may not understand everything Lucifer has been through, everything he’s done, or all that’s been done to him, and she can hardly make up for all the pain he’s suffered, but she does understand enough to know what it means for him to finally feel like he’s found his place in the universe. To have unconditional love and acceptance, to not be alone anymore. She feels it, too.
Nobody has ever made her feel more like herself, her true self, than Lucifer Morningstar. He’s shown her possibilities she never knew existed, and given her more than he’ll ever realize. He’s given her this family and purpose and home, too, and there are no words to express how grateful she feels to have him, Trixie, and now their son in her life.
“You’re going to be amazing, Lucifer,” she says confidently, brushing her fingers through his hair. “You already are.”
He scoffs lightly, eyes still wet. “Only because I have you, my strong, beautiful, brave Detective.” He leans in and kisses her soundly.
Now all they have to do is survive a newborn baby angel.
Chapter 11: Knightess in Shining Armor
Notes:
Bonus chapter because...reasons. Hope you don't mind.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The hospital keeps Chloe and Lucas for two days, even though both are perfectly healthy and happy. Their reasoning is due to the infant’s early arrival; Lucifer was skeptical. It would only take one anomaly with either Chloe or Lucas for the humans to raise an alarm that something unnatural was occurring and they would attempt testing to find out what that something was.
As bloody if.
With one well-placed phone call, he ensured there were no samples of blood or anything that may point to either of them not being entirely human. Not that he has any intention of repeating this experience, but if by chance it were to happen again, next time, he’ll suggest a home birth, a doula, and a slew of NDAs.
Finally, however, the time comes to take their son home to Lux. All the gifts people brought for them have already been delivered to the penthouse, so now all Lucifer has to do is safely deliver his family there as well. It’s an aspect he hadn’t even considered, but as he watches Chloe expertly buckle their two-day-old son into his brand-new $2000 car seat, apprehension begins to set in. He is an exceptional driver with celestial reflexes and superior eyesight, but he isn’t the problem. His Google search late last night while Lucas was feeding for the millionth time showed that there are nearly eight million vehicles in Los Angeles, and he’s seen the way most of them drive.
One idiot on the road could be the cause of a catastrophic tragedy.
“Perhaps we should simply fly home, Detective,” he suggests, turning around in the driver’s seat of her Mercedes-Benz. She’s sitting in back with Lucas, keeping him calm for the journey.
Chloe raises an eyebrow at him. “What? Why?”
“Well, it’s much safer, isn’t it? Eight million cars on the road; three angels in the sky. You do the bloody math.”
It looks as though she’s struggling to restrain her laughter. “Lucifer,” she says, her voice shaking with amusement. He scowls at her; this is bloody serious. “We’re going to be fine. I absolutely trust you behind the wheel, despite all my comments about your driving habits.”
“Well, yes, you trust me, but can you say that about all the other brain dead, idiot humans on the road?”
She takes a deep breath, looking at him patiently and understandingly. “I know it’s nerve-wracking, the first drive home with a new baby. And I also know that you will keep us absolutely safe. You’ve got this, Lucifer.”
“Shows what you know,” he mutters under his breath as he turns back to the wheel. He can see her eyeroll in the rearview mirror.
Okay. He can do this. He is the Devil, the King of Hell, Lord of Demons. He looked God in the eye and dared to say no. Granted, he got totally screwed for that stunt, but he still bloody did it. He is the Original Rebel and lit the bloody stars, for Dad’s sake. He can get his family home in one piece.
Blowing out a breath, Lucifer starts the car, turning down the radio to lessen the distractions around him. He only keeps it on at all because they’ve discovered Lucas has an appreciation of music. Anytime Lucifer sings to him or plays music from his phone, Lucas’s eyes open wide or he begins wriggling around like he’s dancing. Granted, he dances like his mother—which is to say, badly—but it’s the thought that counts. It was Lucifer’s very first Proud Father Moment™, knowing he’s passed on his passion for music to his offspring.
Chloe said it was gas, but it was too much of a coincidence to be a bodily function reaction. The lad likes music, and nobody will tell Lucifer differently.
Hands gripping the steering wheel at ten and two, Lucifer cautiously navigates the car into the Hell Loop that is Los Angeles traffic. All around him cars are driving recklessly, honking their horns at him, zooming past their car to cut him off, and mouthing angrily while throwing them rude hand gestures. He feels Chloe lean forward between the seats and look at him.
“Are you...driving below the speed limit?” she asks incredulously.
“Do you have a problem with safety now, Detective?” he asks tersely in return. Honestly, he’d thought she’d appreciate him not driving “like a maniac” for a change.
Again, she’s trying not to laugh. “No, but twenty below the speed limit is a bit excessive, babe. You know it’s possible to cause an accident driving too slowly just as easily as driving too fast, don’t you?”
His eyes widen. “And you’re only telling me this now?” he snaps indignantly.
“Are we going to keep talking in questions, or are you going to get us home before Lucas’s first birthday?”
“Well, I don’t know, Detective, do you intend to continue criticizing my driving?”
She sighs, exasperated. “Lucifer, just go the speed limit. We. will. be. fine.”
“On your own head be it, Detective,” he grumbles, pressing his foot down on the gas pedal. He thinks he hears her mutter something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “drama queen”.
By the time he finally pulls into Chloe’s spot in Lux’s underground garage, right beside the Corvette, he is a jittery, white-knuckled mess, having spent the entire drive imagining all the scenarios in which something could go wrong. However, it turns out Chloe was right (as she’s always right, but Lucifer isn’t willing to admit it at the moment), and they did arrive safely and soundly. Well, Chloe and Lucas are sound; Lucifer is another story entirely.
Chloe’s hand on his shoulder makes him jump. “Hey, it’s okay. You got us here and we’re fine, yeah?”
He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for...who knows how long. “Yes. Of course, Detective,” he says evenly. Lucifer gets out of the car and opens the backdoor for Chloe, then heads to the boot to retrieve their overnight bags—Chloe’s go-bag and one of Lucifer’s suit bags that Miss Lopez was kind enough to bring—and Lucas’s diaper bag.
Chloe is already unlatching Lucas’s car seat, pulling the whole thing out by its handle. “We’re almost home, Lucas.” Lucas, wearing the onesie Miss Lopez picked out for him that says Devil’s Little Angel, lifts his little fist to his mouth and starts sucking on it. “So freaking cute...”
“Shall I take him, Detective?” he offers gently.
“Yeah, this seat is heavier than I thought. Where’d you even get this thing, NASA?”
Ignoring the dig, Lucifer passes her the diaper bag. He knows perfectly well that she thinks he went overboard when he bought both the car seat and stroller; that they could have gotten products just as reliable for less money. But he’s done his research, and in this case, more expensive is better and he is unwilling to compromise on their son’s safety. That particular comment had been a mistake, because Chloe heard it as he thought she wasn’t as worried about his safety, and well. He’ll never argue with a pregnant woman again, that’s for sure.
“You know our friends are up in the penthouse right this moment, don’t you? Just waiting to ambush us,” he says casually as he inputs the passcode and his fingerprint to activate the elevator. He doesn’t know for certain, but he highly suspects one of them decided to throw them a welcome home party.
Chloe huffs a laugh, lacing the fingers of her free hand with his. “It wouldn’t surprise me,” she says wryly.
“You’d think they’d allow new parents to rest, given what’s ahead of us,” he complains.
The last two nights have been a preview into his future for the foreseeable. Every time he managed to close his eyes and fall asleep, Lucas needed or wanted something else—feeding, changing, attention. Naturally, every time the child made a sound Lucifer was headed towards the bassinet, unwilling to leave him feeling upset for any reason. Chloe insisted they take turns tending to their spawn; of course, she’s the only one who could do the feedings, but Lucifer took the next round. That way, at least one of them could rest just a smidge longer.
And oh, could this boy wail... Lucifer didn’t realize something so small could be so bloody loud. It’s one thing to hear on television or to see in public, but when it’s your own child in a small, enclosed room, it feels amplified a million-fold. Then there is the sheer amount and stench of his output...
Lucifer has vowed to himself to always wear condoms during sex from now on.
Chloe rests her head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of her head. “Nearly there, Detective,” he says softly.
“Can’t wait.”
Neither can he.
The elevator doors open and just as he suspected—
“SURPRISE!”
Chloe pastes on a smile and he follows her lead. It is lovely and heartwarming to see their family gathered here to welcome their newborn son home for the first time, after all. Lucas’s eyes go wide at the noise of various people welcoming them. Miss Lopez is right at the front, beside Teivel, wagging his tail excitedly with his tongue lolling out; Maze and Eve, the demon actually smiling, which is frightening in its own right; Amenadiel holding his daughter beside Dr. Linda; Daniel; and the Urchin, of course, who rushes forward to carefully hug her mother and then Lucifer’s free side. Then she wiggles her fingers in front of Lucas’s face and he goes cross-eyed trying to focus on her.
With his more pronounced curls than two days ago he’s still the cutest thing Lucifer has ever bloody seen.
“Yes, yes, hello,” he greets everybody. “At least allow us to get inside before you pounce...” Lucifer manages to get through the gaggle of his friends far enough to place his son carefully atop the piano. Ensuring his son is content for the moment, he turns around and is immediately wrapped in another hug—this one from Miss Lopez.
“Welcome home, buddy!”
“Yes, thank you, Miss Lopez,” he says, giving her a second then gently pushing her away. “Are we to assume you’re the mastermind behind this little gathering?”
“Well, we had to welcome home our newest family member, didn’t we?”
He pauses for a moment, his heart doing a funny flip at her referring to his son as her family, as well. Lucifer clears his throat. “Yes, I suppose you did. Thank you, my dear, truly.”
“And look, we won’t stay long, I know you guys must be exhausted, but we wanted to be here for you,” Ella goes on. “And if you ever need someone to watch this little angel so you and Chloe can have a night out or whatevs, I will totally babysit for you!”
“We shall keep that in mind, Miss Lopez. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I've needed a drink for the last day or so...”
Ella shrugs, turning her attention to Chloe and Lucas instead, while Lucifer heads to the bar. Much to his annoyance, his brother follows him, now child-free. “So, how’s it feel, Luci?” Amenadiel asks, slapping him on the back.
“How’s what feel?” Lucifer reaches blindly for a bottle, still tense from the drive home and tired from the last couple of days. “Being this dashingly handsome? Bloody brilliant, I can assure you.”
Amenadiel gives him a look. “I meant, being a father. Our children are the only two of their kind, brother, and who would have thought that we, of all the angels, would get to experience this?”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Well, considering that we two are the only angels who spend this much time on Earth, I’d say less amazing, more probability.” With his own drink poured, he prepares a cup of tea for Chloe. “And the spawn being the only two of their kind likely isn’t the wonderful thing you believe it to be when you consider they’ll need childcare at some point, and if they’ve got wings by then, that could be a problem in and of itself.”
His brother waves this off as unimportant. “My point is, Father must have decided we’re worthy of this honor, Luci—”
“Going to stop you right there,” Lucifer says firmly, holding up a hand. “I am in no mood to hear about Dad’s bloody supposed tests or that He thinks we’re worthy, or whatever else you’ve come up with in that dumb, bald head of yours, Amenadiel. There are reasons that explain why Lucas and Emmeline exist, and it’s nothing to do with Dad, but our lack of use of birth control, you feeling guilty enough to become mostly human, and Chloe’s divine ascension. And before you bloody say it, I don’t want to hear that Dad was the one who sent the Miracle to begin with. I just...don’t, Amenadiel. In fact, from here on, new rule: no more trying to make me feel grateful towards Dad. I will never feel grateful to Him, no matter the perceived gifts. Am I making myself clear?”
Chloe comes over with a look of suspicion that’s aimed entirely at Amenadiel. “Everything okay over here?” she asks, one of her hands finding Lucifer’s back and rubbing it comfortingly. For what must be the billionth time at this point, Lucifer is utterly grateful to his partner.
Amenadiel is looking at Lucifer with disappointment. “Yes, Chloe, of course. My brother, here, is just being his usual, stubborn self.”
“Well, maybe you should go talk to somebody else, then, if he’s bothering you so much.” Chloe’s tone is pleasant enough, but Lucifer knows that undercurrent quite well. If Amenadiel doesn’t heed her words, they’ll all likely see his tiny Detective punch an angel who’s seven inches taller and far larger than she in the face, two days after giving birth.
Unfortunately, they won’t be getting a show today, as it seems Amenadiel is actually reading the room. Or maybe he’s just afraid of Chloe, which is a concept Lucifer both sympathizes with and finds hilarious; she can be quite terrifying when she wants to be.
“Of course...” With a final look towards Lucifer, Amenadiel turns and lumbers away sulkily.
“You good?” Chloe asks him softly.
Lucifer hands her the cup of tea he made for her. “I am now, my Knightess in Shining Armor,” he teases, eyes drifting towards the piano where Linda is standing with Lucas, showing baby Emily her new cousin. “Amenadiel being Amenadiel, is all.”
Chloe watches him for a moment, then tugs him down for a too-brief kiss. “I should get back over there,” she murmurs against his lips.
“I’ll join you in a moment,” he promises.
Chloe smiles at Lucifer and takes her mug of tea over to the couch so she can retrieve her baby from the piano. “Hey, sweetie.” She smiles down at Lucas, cooing. “Everyone's here to say ‘hi’ to you.” She unbuckles him and picks him up, carrying him to the couch.
“Mommy, can I hold him now, pleeease?” Trixie says, bouncing up beside her.
“Trix, we talked about this,” Dan chastises her. “Let your mom and Lucifer decide when they’re ready to let people hold the baby.”
Trixie pouts.
“Tell you what, Monkey, sit in the corner of the couch, and I’ll show you how to hold your brother,” Chloe offers, not wanting her daughter to feel left out. And Trixie is going to be eleven next month; as long as she’s not carrying the newborn infant around the house, it should be okay.
“Really?” Trixie asks excitedly, darting around and jumping into place.
Chloe winces, knowing all too well Lucifer’s feelings about jumping on the furniture. Other activities are allowed, but one person jumping on the custom Italian leather, with shoes, no less, and he has a fit. Sitting down beside her and cradling Lucas with one arm, she guides Trixie into position.
“Now, remember, you have to support his neck and head, okay? And I only want you to hold him when you’re sitting down, no carrying him around the house until he’s a bit bigger. If you want to put him down, give him to me or to Lucifer, or put him back in his bassinet; don’t ever leave him somewhere he could roll off the edge and hurt himself.”
Trixie nods dutifully. “I promise, Mom.”
Carefully, Chloe transfers her son into her daughter’s arms, guiding Trixie’s hand beneath Lucas’s head. “Always be gentle with him. There you go, Monkey, good job.”
The smile on Trixie’s face is huge as she stares down into her baby brother’s face. Lucas is staring right back at her, his annoyance at being moved calming. “Hi, Lucas, welcome home,” Trixie says softly.
Chloe doesn’t think she’s seen anything more precious than her two babies together. “I think he likes you, Trix.”
“Think so?”
“Of course, you’re his big sister.”
“As if that makes any difference,” Lucifer mutters above them. Chloe shoots him a look, but she sees the soft expression in his eyes belying his words.
Teivel comes trotting over curiously and cautiously, as though he knows Lucas is fragile. He carefully hops up on the couch and leans in, sniffing the baby’s head. Chloe watches him closely, but knows the Hellhound won’t harm the baby. Teivel gives a soft lick to Lucas’s hair, then lays down next to Trixie, his head in her lap beside Lucas, protecting both of his children.
“Oh, we need a family photo of all five of you,” Ella says excitedly, watching them. “Lucifer, lean in.”
Though he rolls his eyes, he does as instructed, kneeling behind the couch enough that he can put one arm around Chloe, and the other around Trixie, his large hand covering the girl’s beneath the baby’s head. Chloe leans in closer, still not taking her eyes off Trixie and Lucas. Teivel turns his head towards the camera, tongue lolling out in a grin.
“You guys are so freaking sweet...” Ella gushes, like they’re the cutest thing in the world.
“We do make quite the handsome family, don’t we?” Lucifer says proudly.
Their friends stay for a few hours, each taking their turns holding Lucas—at least, until he reaches Amenadiel and has enough, and starts crying. Lucifer couldn’t have looked more amused or smug as he takes his son from his brother.
“I completely sympathize, Gremlin; he makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs, too.”
Amenadiel rolls his eyes, looking put-out.
“I think he might be hungry again,” Chloe says. “And as Daddy is not equipped for such tasks...”
Smirking, Lucifer hands their son over. “Can I watch?”
Rolling her eyes at his (mostly) teasing, Chloe decides to take Lucas to the nursery for some privacy. “We’ll be back in a few minutes.” Heading down the hall, she smiles down at her son. “Ready to see your new room? Your daddy decorated it just for you, you know. And he did such an amazing job, too. I think you’re really going to love it, sweetie.”
Flicking on the star lights embedded into the ceiling, since the rest of it is best seen in the dark, Chloe heads to the rocking chair and situates herself. It doesn’t matter how many times she’s seen this room already, she’s still amazed every time. There’s always something new to find in the constellation wall or to see when the projector is switched on. She hasn’t bothered to ask how much it cost to put all of this together, knowing she’ll likely be horrified if she does, because Lucifer will only go for the very best of all available materials—and she likes this room too much to worry about it.
Once Lucas is latched on, Chloe stands and takes him on a little tour, showing off the toys and photo wall she added a month or so ago—pictures of their family, mostly. She smiles when she finds Detective Quacker has made her way in here, and has gotten pride of place inside the crib.
“I got that for Daddy when we went on a date once,” she tells Lucas. “He loves that little thing, I’m surprised it’s in here...”
“Well, what do I need a plushie for when I get to sleep next to my most favorite Detective every night?”
Chloe startles, earning a muffled annoyed whine from her son, and turns around to find Lucifer leaning against the closed nursery door watching them with an adoring look in his eyes. “How did I not hear you come in here? Seriously, can you teleport?”
Lucifer grins. “No, I cannot teleport, Detective. You were preoccupied telling Lucas about that photo of your mother in the Althea costume. If you’d like, we can try the bell suggestion again?”
Her eyes widen, though whether in horror or intrigue even she doesn’t know, but images from that one time Lucifer decided to put a bell on himself replay in her mind. “I think once was enough, babe, thanks.”
“You enjoyed it—well, you certainly enjoyed the evidence locker portion of the day,” he purrs, sliding his arms around her from behind. “As did I. Do feel free to drag me into closets more often, darling.”
Chloe huffs a laugh, leaning back against him. “There won’t be any dragging anywhere for the next month or so,” she says dryly.
He waves off that information. “I’ve had much longer dry spells, darling,” he says airily. “And for far less enjoyable reasons.”
While that is probably true, it’s certainly not the case since they’ve been together. Most days, they have sex more than once. And once a month or so, there’s an all-day marathon where they can’t keep their hands off each other and don’t bother trying.
Lucifer’s chin is propped on her shoulder, cheek resting against hers, as he watches their son nurse. “The others have left, all except the Urchin and Daniel,” he informs her lazily. “What would you like for lunch? Trixie is lobbying for pizza, no surprise there.”
Chloe snorts a laugh. “Pizza is fine, if that’s what you want. I’m still full from that breakfast you ordered at the hospital.”
“Hmm...” He nuzzles against her like he’s planning on staying for awhile, sighing contentedly.
She smiles. “Comfortable back there?”
“Quite comfortable, thank you for asking. How are you doing, love? Glad to be home, I expect.”
“So glad. Hospitals make me feel stir-crazy. What was Amenadiel’s damage earlier, anyway?”
He makes an annoyed sound that still somehow sounds contented. “How wonderful it is that of all the angels, the two of us are the ones privileged enough to have procreated,” he says dryly. “More of how it must be Dad’s plan to reward us, somehow. Clearly, he’s not been paying attention, because why would Dad reward me with anything?”
Chloe decides not to remind him that his father put her in his path. “Don’t listen to him, babe. Everything we have we did for ourselves, remember?”
Pressing a kiss to her neck, he nods. “I do remember, but Amenadiel will never not believe Dad is behind every bloody breath he takes. I thought he’d been getting better about that since Emmeline was born, yet here we are. Bit disappointing, to be honest.” Lucas finishes feeding and Lucifer disappears from behind her, returning a moment later with a burp rag over his shoulder and holding out his hands to be handed the baby. “Hand over the little gremlin and go spend some time with your Urchin before she goes home with Daniel, darling.”
“You don’t mind?”
He scoffs. “Of course not.” He makes impatient grabby hands.
Smiling, Chloe hands Lucas over. “Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll take care of lunch while you’re burping him.” He makes a kissy face at her, leaning down hopefully. Chuckling, she gives him what he wants, her hand on Lucas’s back. “Such a dork. You two have fun.”
“How can time with me be anything but, Detective?”
Before she’s even entirely out the door, Lucifer and Lucas are at the constellation wall where the Devil is telling the baby stories about every one of them. It’s only been two days, but he’s already a wonderful father, just as she knew he would be. Leaving them to it, she goes to spend some much needed time with her oldest kid.
On their first night home with a newborn baby angel, Lucifer and Chloe manage a few hours of sleep before the little tyrant decides to kick up a fuss. Lucifer wakes first and murmurs to Chloe to go back to sleep when she groans. Sliding out of bed, he stumbles bleary-eyed towards the bassinet in the corner of the room where the nearly three-day-old within is wide awake and whimpering, on his way to full blown meltdown if his demands aren’t immediately met.
“Yes, all right, there’s no need for all this, you little gremlin,” he murmurs, reaching in to lift his son into his arms. A quick check confirms there’s no need for a nappy change; this isn’t his hunger cry, which they learned quickly. “You woke me because you’re lonely, is that it? Well, let’s allow Mummy to sleep, hmm? I’ll show you what I do when I’m wide awake in the middle of the night. Sans the whiskey and smoking, that is.”
Early February in L.A. can still get chilly for an adult, so Lucifer wraps his son in a blanket and retrieves his robe on the way out to the balcony. Lucas is staring raptly at him, his whimpers tapering off, which always makes Lucifer feel...good, like he might not be so awful at this father thing, after all. Of course, it’s only been three bloody days, and the first one without outside help from professionals, but he’s counting it as a success, anyway.
“Now, we can’t see them tonight, it’s a smidge cloudy, but on clear nights, I like to come out here and look at the stars,” he tells Lucas softly.
Worried that the infant might get cold with the wind blowing, even with the blanket, Lucifer unfurls his wings, wrapping them around the both of them. Instantly, Lucas goes silent, his eyes widening.
“Oh, like that, do you? Well, chances are, you’ll have a set of these of your own later. Just like me and your mum. It’s a shame your sister doesn’t have them, but then again, we’d never convince her to put them away—or to not take them out when she shouldn’t. I can just see her smacking someone who annoys her in the face at school and your mum getting a call.” His eyebrows furrow. “I suppose the same worry goes for you. But we’ll deal with that when we must.”
He settles in one of the lounge chairs. “So, would you like a bedtime story or a lullaby tonight, Lucas? I could tell you about the first time I ever successfully flew? How’s that sound?” He takes Lucas’s languorous blink as a yes.
“I don’t know precisely how old I was, this was before time was created, but I was young—the Urchin’s age, perhaps, or thereabouts, in human terms. But of the siblings that had been created at that point, and were capable of flying, I was the last to really get the hang of it, and feeling quite a bit of pressure to work it out. You see, nobody taught us to fly in the Silver City, we were supposedly created with the knowledge, and judging by my siblings (your aunts and uncles, I suppose), I was the only one missing that particular bit, so I was rather on my own.
“I spent...ages, it seems, trying to get the hang of it. I’d go to this ridge near the lake the others visited only rarely so that there wouldn’t be an audience to my crash landings—and there were many,” he says ruefully. “More often than not, I’d go back to my rooms frustrated and upset with myself.” And wondering what was wrong with him, why was he so flawed? “And I got teased quite a bit, even by Michael, so I kept my continued failures to myself.
“And then, one day after a particularly brutal teasing, I went up to that ridge, spread my wings, and jumped...and then, all of a sudden, I realized that I hadn’t face-planted into the ground. I was flying.” He smiles at the memory, how overjoyed he’d been when he hadn’t crashed again. “I was so happy, Lucas. So proud of myself.” He can still hear his own ecstatic laughter. “Finally, I could join my siblings when they flew, instead of watching them enviously from the sidelines on the ground. From there, I improved quickly, and oh...was I ever good. I went from being mocked to having my siblings cheer for me when I’d win races or after performing some stunt or another.
“Flying is...the most wonderful feeling, it’s indescribable. The freedom you feel soaring through the air where nothing can touch you. Well, unless you’re your Uncle Amenadiel and you fly into bridges—don’t ever let him tell you it was just the once, either. But I can’t wait until you’re old enough to learn yourself. I imagine your mum will have a bloody coronary worrying, though, so go easy on her, hmm?
“There is so much I desire to teach you, Lucas. Flying, how to play piano or any other instrument you might wish to play—I’m quite good at most of them; I’ve been meaning to learn the french horn. How to drive, of course, though, again—your mum, coronary. I taught your sister, secretly; the little miscreant wrangled it out of me through a deal.”
He glances at his son’s face to find him fast asleep. “Glad to see my captive audience is so riveted,” he says dryly, tracing Lucas’s pouty little lips with his finger.
“Hey, is this where the party’s at?”
Lucifer looks up and smiles at the sight of Chloe approaching, wrapped in her robe. “Apparently, my storytelling is so fascinating, it’s a sedative for infants,” he says softly, unwilling to wake Lucas. “Why are you up, darling? We came out here so we wouldn’t wake you.”
“Bathroom,” she says, sitting down beside him. Lucifer lifts a wing to wrap her in it, too. She fits herself against his side, cupping her hand below his cupping Lucas’s head. “What did he need?”
“Company, I think. He settled instantly when I brought out my wings, so we should keep that little trick in mind.”
Chloe nods. “Good to know,” she murmurs sleepily.
Lucifer smiles down at her fondly. “Go back to bed, Detective. You need your rest.”
“So do you.”
“Not as much as you.” Then again, she’s more angel these days than human.
“He’ll be awake again soon to nurse, anyway. And I’m comfy here.”
Lucifer chuckles. “As am I,” he whispers into her hair. “My family.”
“All we need is Trixie.”
He nods his agreement.
She’s quiet for a few minutes, and Lucifer assumes she’s fallen asleep until she nuzzles against his neck. “What story were you telling Lucas?”
“About the first time I successfully flew. It was quite the moment for me.”
“That is a wonderful feeling, when your mind and wings are finally in sync, and everything else just falls into place.” He hums. “I miss flying; I didn’t get to do much of it before I got pregnant, then I was too nervous about crashing and hurting Lucas to try.”
“We’ll go out again one of these days soon,” Lucifer promises her. “Ooh, we can get one of those baby harness things that straps the child to the chest and take Lucas with us—”
“Don’t even think about it,” Chloe warns. “Not for at least the first six months, then we can talk. And there will be no acrobatics or going too fast.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Darling, you do remember he’s an angel as well, yes? Meaning, one day, he’ll have wings of his own. Flying isn’t going to hurt him.”
“I’m more worried about him wriggling out of the harness and falling.”
“I would never allow that to happen,” he says, aghast.
She lifts her head to look at him. “I’m not saying you would, Lucifer, I know you’d never let him get hurt, but accidents do happen, and they can’t be predicted, that’s why they’re called accidents. I just don’t want to risk it. We don’t know enough about what I am to determine what Lucas is.”
“At least half-angel,” Lucifer says confidently. “I’d go so far as to say three-quarters, if not more, given that you had wings when he was conceived.” She narrows her eyes at him in that stubborn way that says she isn’t backing down on this particular stance. “Yes, very well, six months is the minimum age that we can take him flying.”
“That anybody can take him flying.”
Sighing that she caught the loophole, Lucifer concedes, “Yes, all right. Lucas will remain grounded until he’s at least six months old, at a minimum, you’ve my word, Detective.”
She kisses the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.”
“Hmph. I didn’t quite feel that kiss, you should do it again. A little lower, perhaps?”
Stifling a laugh, she rolls her eyes, but kisses him again, then along the slope of his neck to his collarbone.
“Mmm, don’t let me stop you, darling...” he purrs.
“Not in front of the baby.”
“The sleeping baby, who has no idea what’s happening.”
“Not tonight, Satan.”
Lucifer chuckles softly. A few moments later, Lucas’s mouth begins pursing and he starts squirming, moving his head around. A moment after that, the hunger whimpers start.
“I think that’s your cue, love.”
“Yep, hand him over...”
Yet another first for the Devil: Watching his fiancée nurse their son while wrapped in his wings. He has no complaints.
A few nights later, he has complaints.
Lucas began crying four hours ago and he. will. not. stop. Chloe has nursed him three times, he’s had two diaper changes, neither of their wings help for more than ten minutes at a time. Lucifer is currently on his dozenth circuit walking through the penthouse, rocking his son as they go, and the high-pitched wailing will not cease no matter what.
“What if he’s ill?” Lucifer worries as he passes Chloe on the couch.
She lifts her head from her folded arms and stares at him through bleary eyes. “He doesn’t have a fever, his coloring is normal. He’s not ill, Lucifer,” she reassures him. “Babies do this. They start crying and don’t stop, and sometimes, there’s no reason for it; they just want to cry.”
He stares down at his red-faced, screaming infant, his eyes squeezed shut and face all scrunched as he screams his little heart out. Lucifer’s own heart aches, wishing with everything that he is that he could ease his own child’s discomforts. Bloody hell, he’s failing his son already, and it’s not even been a week.
“Lucifer, come sit down...”
He joins Chloe on the couch and she immediately cuddles up against him, her arm cradling his beneath their son’s tiny body. “What am I doing wrong?” he whispers desolately.
“Nothing,” Chloe says firmly. “Trixie did this, too, all the time. Sometimes they just have to cry it out. Lucifer, you’re doing a wonderful job—you’re attentive and loving, and that’s all we can be right now until we learn all his cues and what soothes him. Actually...you know what we haven’t tried?”
“We’ve tried everything, Detective,” he says, frustrated.
“Hand him to me.” Lucifer hesitates, but does as he’s told, looking at Chloe expectantly. “Play something on the piano.”
He frowns, realizing she’s right; he hasn’t tried that, and why the bloody hell didn’t he think of it? “Right...”
What’s worse, he’s been planning for the moment he could play for Lucas, something quite specific, too, just for him. Chloe stands from the couch as well, following him over to the piano bench. Lifting the keyguard, he glances at his son and starts to play.
It’s the song he’s been composing for the last month or so, and though it isn’t entirely finished or refined, he plays, anyway. A quiet, soft piece that’s more a lullaby than anything. There’s a hopeful quality to it, one that he felt the entire time he composed it. It takes until the first verse for the cries to falter, and by the second, it’s down to tapering whimpers. Lucas’s eyes are wet and wide as he listens, finally starting to settle.
The song continues in slow tempo, the notes soaring as Lucifer thought about flying with his son through the cosmos, just the two of them, then a bit lower as the notes seem to wrap around them—Lucifer’s thoughts drifting as Chloe had walked past him, smiling lovingly at him. The piece is more whimsical than anything Lucifer has composed in the past, clearly meant for a young child, full of joy and hope and promise. And he finally knows how to finish it. The outro is soothing and soft as he watches Lucas’s blinks grow longer and he emits a yawn that makes his entire tiny body expand, and finally, as the final note plays, he’s asleep.
They pause for a few minutes, both Lucifer and Chloe watching and waiting, but Lucas is out.
That was beautiful, Lucifer, Chloe prays, probably to avoid waking the sleeping boy in her arms.
I composed it for him, Lucifer tells her needlessly; surely she knew that. She smiles and nods that she knows, leaning over to kiss him. And for you.
She backs away to look at him in surprise. Really?
He nods, resting his forehead against hers. You’re my muse. You inspire me constantly, Chloe. I never felt the need to compose for anybody but myself until you and Lucas.
There are tears in her eyes as she smiles and kisses him again. I love you.
And I, you. He bends his head to brush a kiss to Lucas’s sleeping head.
Okay, let’s see if we can get him back to bed and get some sleep, yeah?
Lucifer nods fervently, standing and helping her to her feet. He follows her back to their bedroom as she very slowly lays their son in the bassinet, then backs away cautiously, already wincing in preparation for the crying that doesn’t come. They look at each other and let out silent sighs of relief, then climb into bed. Lucifer lays on his back, holding an arm out in invitation, and Chloe curls up in his side, wrapping an arm around his waist, then shrugging her wings into existence, and wrapping one around him, too.
Goodnight, Chloe. Love you. He closes his eyes, already feeling himself being pulled into sleep.
Love you, Lucifer...
They’re asleep for twenty minutes when a cry pierces the silence again.
Notes:
Unfortunately, this is the end of the bulk fluff in this story. There will still be some in later chapters, but next week, we jump into the deep end of the angst pool.
Chapter 12: The Visitor
Chapter Text
One of Lucifer’s new favorite things is sitting in the nursery, holding his son, and watching the hologram projector on the ceiling. It started out as a way to soothe Lucas when he’s crying in the middle of the night—Lucifer would bring him in here, unless he needed feeding, and once Lucas calmed enough to look, his wide blue eyes would stare raptly at the shooting stars and comets, the revolving planets, and blinking stars. Now, they’ll settle in here even when the infant isn’t wailing like the angelic banshee that he is when neither of them can seem to fall asleep.
Lucas is three weeks old now, and already he has the people in his life (his father, especially) wrapped around his tiny finger. Lucifer could stare at him for hours and not get bored, and often spends afternoons on the sitting room floor, laying with Lucas on a mat while the boy takes in the world around him. Chloe has commented more than once how calm he is most of the time, as opposed to Trixie who, when annoyed or frustrated about littlest things, made sure everyone in a three-block radius knew about it.
Of course, like any baby, Lucas certainly has his moments, but his parents have quickly learned what soothes and comforts him. To Lucifer’s unceasing surprise, one of those things is him; all he has to do is speak, or sing, or hold Lucas, and his tears begin to abate.
The baby angel is, like his father, quite partial to music, something Chloe and Lucifer learned when he was still in the womb. Every night, Lucifer would sing to their son in Chloe’s growing belly and if he was particularly active, he’d seemingly stop to listen—and when Lucifer stopped, he’d kick in protest. Since Lucas’s birth, Lucifer has kept up the tradition, singing his son to sleep every night or playing for him on the piano. It thrills him to no end that he’s passed his enthusiasm for music onto his son and can’t wait to teach him everything he’s ever learned about the subject.
Although there are some aspects of fatherhood Lucifer is still having trouble with, like knowing exactly what his son needs when he needs it, every bit of knowledge he lacks, Chloe makes up for in spades. He’d always recognized that she’s an amazing mother, from the first day they met and she praised her child for sticking up for herself with a bully even after getting in trouble for it at school, and a million other examples since, but he’s never truly appreciated it until now.
How patient she is, even after a night of no sleep due to an upset angel baby; never losing her temper with either child (Lucifer is another story). How she balances her time with each child as much as she can, never wanting either to think she loves one of them more than the other, by involving Trixie in her brother’s care and spending time with both of them at once for at least an hour an evening. How she does seem to anticipate Lucas’s needs and desires, reminding Lucifer all the while that she’s done this before and he’ll learn with time.
And she also makes time for Lucifer himself, even when she would probably prefer to drop off straight to sleep once the children are in bed or have some time to herself. Something she didn’t anticipate after giving birth is that her celestial healing would take care of whatever damage Lucas did on his way out, and rather than the four to six weeks it would have taken her as a human, she was healed within one. Nevertheless, and despite how eager he is to make love with her again, they’ve decided to wait at least to the four week limit—surprisingly, at Lucifer’s insistence. The last thing he wants to discover is that her celestial qualities have decided now is a good time to not do their job, and he winds up hurting her. Much as he loves sex, particularly with his Detective, the possible risk makes him uneasy.
Still, once both spawn are down for the night, they curl up on the balcony together—sometimes talking, others not—or watch Bones, or one of the other shows they both enjoy, or they just lay in bed, holding each other. Whatever they’re doing, Lucifer finds it enjoyable...because it’s with Chloe.
Nevertheless, life with a newborn angel baby is exhausting, challenging, sometimes frustrating, and yet, Lucifer wouldn’t give it up for anything. Especially moments like this, when it’s just him and Lucas in the middle of the night, staring up at a likeness of the night sky.
“...And that, Lucas, was my favorite star,” Lucifer says softly, pointing towards a small star with a shade of blue so unique it doesn’t even have a name (though Lucifer has begun to call it ‘Detective blue’). “It’s gone now—from the real sky, that is. I still don’t know what happened to it, and I thought I’d never see it again. But as it turns out, your and your mother’s eye color is exactly the same as my star that was created long before even the Earth.
“I even remember the day I created it. Well, not day, precisely, there was no time back then. I had this sword I used to focus my Lightbringer powers, I suppose you’d say, the Flaming Sword, which is also gone now—and good riddance. But I remember...I was upset before I created that star, I can’t quite recall what about, probably a row with one of my siblings. So, I went out farther into the galaxy than I had ever been, and put all my emotion into making this one star. It didn’t come out perfectly—the proportions were a bit off, and it didn’t burn like the others, it had its own rhythm. But it was the color that fascinated me, because up until then, the other stars were white or red or a different shade of blue.
“This one, though...I couldn’t tell you what it was about it, just that it felt...the most me, I suppose. And it felt significant in some way I couldn’t describe. I spent a lot of time after that trying to recreate the color with other stars, and it never came out the same. That star was unique, and it’s the only one I ever named.”
He closes his eyes, letting the name roll off his tongue in his native language—it’s the first time he’s spoken the language of angels since being banished, apart from singing to Lucas. He adapted it for use in Hell, mostly to mock the Silver City, but Lilim is far more guttural and harsh. Opening his eyes, he finds Lucas reaching up for him. Smiling, he gives his son one of his fingers to grab onto.
“Mozaldïea. It translates to English as ‘Gatherer of Light’, because it shone the brightest of all its kin, at least before Sirius came into existence. After I went to Hell, seeing my Gatherer in the sky was the only time I felt at peace. Until I met your mother. I still can’t believe it took me two bloody years to realize her eye color was the same as the Gatherer’s; with as much time as I spent looking at her eyes, I should have seen it. But I suppose...I never expected to see it again, so it didn’t occur to me that it was even possible.
“Now, your mum thinks your eye color may change, but I don’t. It’s far too unique a color to be a temporary trait. Between you and Mummy, I have my star again. And in ways I never even knew were possible back then.” He strokes his son’s fingers tenderly as the baby angel starts to fall asleep finally. “I must say, I much prefer what I have now.”
A few days later, Lucifer is alone in the penthouse. Chloe has taken the little Gremlin out to have lunch with Miss Lopez while Trixie is at school. And he doesn’t quite know what to do with his time. For a while, he plays piano and drinks, as was his usual daily habit before a tiny tyrant took over their lives nearly a month ago.
After he composed the song for Lucas before his birth, Lucifer has taken to composing bits and pieces here and there, working on something for his and Chloe’s wedding in August. Something that encompasses their entire partnership, the highs and lows, that he can play for her at the reception. He’s just debating whether to add lyrics when he hears the familiar sound of angel wings on the balcony, and since he knows Amenadiel would have at least texted before dropping in, Lucifer immediately grows tense.
Beside him on the floor, Teivel lifts his head and growls menacingly towards the open doors, his glamour flickering back and forth between Earth and Hell. “Easy, boy, on my mark,” Lucifer reminds him quietly, getting to his feet. Whoever’s come for a fly-by visit has yet to reveal themselves, but Lucifer has his suspicions.
“I warned you not to return, Michael,” he says at a normal volume. “You’re simply asking to become my hound’s lunch.”
Slowly, his twin steps into view, that twisted smirk on his lips. “What? I waited until the fam was out of the house, didn’t I?”
“And what makes you think you’re welcome even now?”
Michael scoffs. “Come on, Samael, can’t an angel just drop by to congratulate his twin? Supposedly, having one of those screaming brats is something to celebrate.”
“Lovely. You’ve congratulated me. Now, you can be on your way. Don't you have some harp playing to do? Or wanking, perhaps?”
“Not even gonna offer me a drink? I hear cigars are the thing new fathers hand out.”
Lucifer laughs incredulously. “Why on Earth would I waste my top-shelf booze, or my Cuban cigars, on you?”
“For nostalgia’s sake? All the good times we shared in the Silver City?”
“Please,” Lucifer scoffs, going to the bar to refill his whiskey. “Name one.”
Michael’s smirk deepens. “Well, there’s the last time we saw each other.”
Lucifer’s eye twitches and the scar on his chin twinges. “Not exactly a good time had by all, bro. Get to the real point of your visit and be on your way, I’m busy.”
“Looks like you weren’t doing anything important to me.” Lucifer doesn’t deign to respond, idly sipping his drink. Michael rolls his eyes. “I just came by to ask...how the visit is going.”
Frowning, Lucifer glances at his twin. “What bloody visit? This one? Awful, and I’d much rather not repeat it. In fact, I’d rather have dull, rusty nails shoved into my testicles.”
Shaking his head, Michael takes a few steps forward—until Teivel jumps to his feet and starts snarling, snapping his jaws. The angel eyes the hound warily. “No, not me. Amenadiel’s visitor.”
As far as he knows, Amenadiel hasn’t had any visitors; at least none he’s seen fit to inform Lucifer about. “Why don’t you ask him?” he says dryly. “I don’t know of any visitors.”
It does not bode well that Michael looks positively gleeful at the news. “No? And here I thought you’d be all over that—punching Dad in the face. Getting your revenge...”
Only by sheer will does Lucifer not visibly react beyond a slight twitch in the fingers holding his whiskey glass. “What the bloody hell are you on about?” He really hopes this is Michael playing one of his games.
“Dad’s on Earth, Sammy! Took human form and everything,” Michael informs him cheerfully. “Been here for, oh...at least three days.”
“You’re lying,” Lucifer states coldly. His father would never come to Earth—not after last time—and He certainly wouldn’t take human form. “Why the hell would He do that?”
Michael gives him a look that says it should be obvious. “Uh, because He’s got grandkids to spoil, maybe? I mean, I don’t get the fascination, but Dad seemed pretty excited.”
“Dad wasn’t even in Heaven, last I heard.” According to his sources, one day, after booting Mum to Hell, God went out for a pack of smokes and never returned. Nobody in the Silver City had a line to Him or knew where to find Him.
Michael shrugs. “He’s been around,” he says dismissively. “There was a big hubbub the day after your brat was born. and suddenly, Dad’s packing to come to Earth.”
Lucifer goes cold. Please, let it be a lie...
“If you don’t believe me, call Amenadiel; Dad’s staying with him, his pet shrink, and their mutant brat.” Lucifer hasn’t seen Michael this pleased with himself since he was dragging the Lightbringer in front of their father for judgment. “I’m sure I’ll be around later if you want to chat. Right now, you might want to sit down or something, you’re not looking too good. What’s wrong, Samael, worried your time on Earth is almost up?”
That’s precisely what he’s worried about, but he isn’t about to let on to bloody Michael, of all people. “That is not my name,” he says coldly. “Get out, Michael. Next time you step foot here, Teivel gets to have an archangel for dinner.”
The hound licks his chops hungrily, stalking towards Michael. The angel, smartly, backs away.
“Have it your way. Tell Dad I said 'hey'.” The bastard giggles on his way out.
Once he’s certain Michael is gone, Lucifer shakily reaches for his phone and with fingers that feel too big for his hands all of a sudden, he calls Amenadiel. It takes five rings for his brother to answer.
“Luci, hi,” Amenadiel says quietly, anxiously. “Uh, this isn’t a good time.”
“Oh?” Lucifer feigns ignorance. “And why is that, brother?”
He can almost see Amenadiel searching for a lie. “Oh, well, you know how it is with a baby in the house...” Amenadiel laughs awkwardly, tightly.
“Oh, I do, yes,” Lucifer agrees with mock-sympathy. “But I suppose you have it a bit rougher, don’t you? What with your guest and all?”
The line goes silent. Lucifer checks to see if he’s been hung up on, but he hasn’t. “You know.”
Well, that’s all the confirmation Lucifer needs: God is on Earth. “Oh, you absolute twat,” he says coolly to his brother. “You didn’t think to warn me?”
Amenadiel sighs. “I was going to tell you, all right? I just...haven’t found the time.”
“Not once, in three bloody days? Come on, Amenadiel, don’t give me that! You know, I thought we’d reached a common ground. That despite our disagreements, we were becoming brothers again, and then I found out you're harboring our neglectful bastard of a father, and didn’t bother telling me?”
“What would you have done, Luci? Come over here and smote God?”
Sounds like a bloody good idea to him.
Amenadiel gentles his tone. “Of course, we’re brothers, Luci; I was just trying to find the right way to tell you. If it took me as much by surprise as it did, what would it have done to you?” He sighs. “Look. Yes, Dad is here, on Earth. He’s been here for three days, and He says He just wants to spend time with His grandchildren.”
Lucifer scoffs, feeling like his heart and lungs are being squeezed in a vise. “He’s not coming near my son, Amenadiel, I absolutely forbid it. In fact, I don’t want Him near any of my family, Chloe, Trixie, or Lucas. Am I making myself clear? Let Him ruin your spawn, the way He ruined us, if you insist, but keep Him away from me and mine.”
“You expect me to tell God what to do?”
“I expect you to pass along the message. You are the messenger, are you not?”
Amenadiel sighs again. “I’ll pass along the message, brother, but I can’t guarantee He’ll heed it.”
“And I can’t guarantee there won’t be war on Earth if He doesn’t.” Before Amenadiel can say another word, Lucifer ends the call, dropping the phone, then leans over the bar on his hands, head bowed.
His father is back, and on Earth. He doesn’t know what to do; what to think. Should he pack up his family and take them to the other side of the world for their safety? Or should he remain here and hope for the best—that his father will get His fill of grandchildren with Emmeline, then go back to the Silver City? He scoffs, that’s not bloody likely. And anyway, his father is omniscient; anywhere they run to, He could just follow with a snap of His fingers.
The last time he saw his father, he was pleading with Him not to send him away. To just listen to him. But God had stared down on His supposed favorite son, His expression full of cold wrath.
“You are no Son of Mine, Samael. Get him out of My sight.”
An involuntary sob breaks free from his throat and he curls into himself, emotions he’s suppressed for billions upon billions of years in Hell bubbling to the surface like molten lava. This can’t be bloody happening. Why is He really here? Michael’s words return to him.
“Worried your time on Earth is almost up?”
What if his father is here to send him back to Hell? What happens to Chloe and Lucas then? Lucifer is the only one on Earth powerful enough to protect them—an infant angel and a human-turned-angel without any celestial powers of her own? They’ll be carted off to the Silver City, experimented on to test their celestial qualities and abilities, then ostracized by the rest of the Host for their association to Lucifer. He can’t let it happen, he—
A hand grabs his shoulder and he rears back into a defensive position, snarling and lighting up his eyes with Hellfire. Until he sees Chloe standing in front of him, hand outstretched, looking deeply concerned. Behind her, Lucas is still in his $8000 Gucci stroller, sleeping safely and soundly.
“Hey,” Chloe says gently, holding both her hands up in supplication. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”
He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Chloe,” he says, choked.
She gives him a smile that pushes away the molten lava threatening to drown him. “Yeah... Yeah, you’re okay.”
Lucifer laughs wetly, shaking his head. “I have never been less okay than I am right in this moment.”
Her concern deepens even further. “What happened?”
Wiping his face with his shirtsleeve, he looks away, not even knowing where to bloody start. Instead, he steps forward, into Chloe’s arms, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. Instantly, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, one of her hands sliding into his hair. He sighs; this is his safe place. Nothing can touch him here.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Chloe whispers into his ear, stroking his head. “I’ve got you.”
He realizes belatedly that he’s crying. It should probably horrify and disgust him—the Devil, breaking down into a sobbing mess in front of anybody. But...well, it's not the first time. And he doesn’t particularly care right now. Besides, Chloe isn't just anybody, is she? He just holds her tighter.
“Oh, Lucifer...” She doesn’t press him for answers or demand to know what’s happening; she just holds him until he calms enough to pull away. The mixture of love, worry, and sympathy in her eyes nearly breaks him again as she wipes away the tears from his cheeks. “Better?”
Letting out a breath, he realizes that...yes, it is better. Not entirely, because his father is still on Earth, but manageable for the time being. He nods.
Chloe knows him well enough to know she hasn’t fixed the problem; nevertheless, she kisses him briefly, stroking his face. “Let me get Lucas settled in our room, then we can talk. If you want?” she offers kindly.
Again, he nods silently, watching her gather their son in her arms to carry him into the bedroom. Rubbing a hand roughly across his face, then through his hair, Lucifer tries to pull himself together enough for the coming conversation. He needs booze...plenty of booze. While he’s at it, he makes Chloe a cup of her tea, and takes it all to the coffee table.
Teivel follows, propping his head on the Devil’s knee and looking up at him sadly. Like he understands that Lucifer is barely holding it together and is offering him comfort.
“You’re a good boy, Teivel,” he murmurs, scratching the hound’s ears.
Chloe joins them a couple of minutes later, pressing herself into Lucifer’s side.
“How was lunch with Miss Lopez?” he asks, his voice still rough.
She huffs a laugh. “It was good. Ella barely ate because she was playing with Lucas. And I think he was enjoying the attention, the little flirt. Definitely your son,” she says, smiling teasingly up at him. Lucifer snorts a laugh. “Seriously, it was so adorable; the more attention Ella gave him, the more he started reaching for her and making big eyes at her. She swears up and down he smiled at her; he didn’t.”
Lucifer smiles at the image her description makes. “Well, he is a Morningstar; and we are masters of seduction.”
“He’s three weeks old. The only thing he’s master of is eating and sleeping,” she says dryly.
“I can think of something else he’s master of,” Lucifer quips, thinking of the last time he changed his son’s diaper.
Chloe rubs his chest with her hand, right over his heart. The tightness that’s been there since his phone call with Amenadiel eases a little more. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“What, about Lucas’s diapers? Not particularly.” She gives him a look. He sighs, conceding. “Michael dropped by whilst you were out.”
She tenses against him. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” Lucifer says, mildly amused. “Not physically, at least. He did, however, inform me that Amenadiel has a celestial guest staying with him, Dr. Linda, and their spawn.”
Leaning back with furrowed eyebrows, Chloe asks, “Who?”
Closing his eyes and swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Lucifer forces himself to say it. “My father.”
Chloe goes still, her jaw dropping. “Your...father?” she echoes, then mouths soundlessly until she finally finds her words. “I don’t mean to point out the obvious, but...Lucifer, your father is God.”
“Regretfully, yes, He is,” Lucifer sighs. “It would seem He’s decided to come out from wherever He was hiding, just in time to meet His grandchildren.”
Her eyes widen. “I...don’t even know what to say to that,” she says, dumbfounded.
“No, neither do I.”
She turns to him fully. “Are you okay?” she asks, concerned.
His eyes burn again. Of course, her first worry is for him, rather than what will happen to Earth with God not in Heaven or some other existential concern. “I...no.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think I am, Chloe.”
Compassion shines brightly in her eyes. “Oh, babe, come here.” She wraps him in her arms again and he goes willingly. “I won’t let Him anywhere near you.”
Lucifer laughs weakly against her shoulder. “I told Amenadiel to warn Him to stay away from you, Lucas, and Trixie. I was informed the message would be passed on, but there could be no guarantee my warning would be heeded.” He hesitates, not wanting to add to her worries, but she should at least be aware of the possibility. “I don’t know why He’s really here, Chloe. Amenadiel says it’s because of the children—I told him he can let Dad ruin his own offspring, but He’s to remain far away from mine. But there could be...other factors to this little divine holiday.”
She frowns. “What factors?”
“Well, for one, the throne of Hell has sat empty for eight years.”
“Absolutely not,” Chloe says fiercely. “He is not sending you back.”
Lucifer scoffs. “Believe me, darling, if that is His reason for being here, I will not take it lightly. But He could force me; and I’d be powerless to stop Him, if that is what He wants.”
“He’ll have to go through me.” And with the look in Chloe’s eyes, Lucifer isn’t even sure God Almighty would fare well against her. “I will not let Him take you away from us—this is where you belong, Lucifer, in your home with your family.”
Bloody hell, he’s never loved her more than in this moment. Nobody else would willingly place themselves between the Devil and God Almighty—certainly not as the Devil’s defender. “I believe you, Detective,” he says reverently. “But if I have it my way, He won’t even be a factor in our lives.”
“And if you don’t have it your way?”
He takes a breath, letting it out slowly. “Then I shall be facing God again.”
Chloe watches Lucifer out of the corner of her eye all night. From the moment she returns from picking up Trixie from school, to while he’s making dinner, to later, when all four of them—five, with Teivel—are watching Bones. Trixie saw Lucifer watching it one day and is as hooked as he is on the show.
Lucifer goes through all the usual motions—talking, laughing, teasing when the situation calls for it. But then, when he thinks nobody is looking at him, his mask drops. It’s not an expression Chloe has ever seen on him, one she can’t even entirely identify. She can see the fear and the grief and the anger, but there’s something deeper and far older than she can comprehend.
That God walks the Earth is objectively terrifying in its own right. None of them know what to expect, because none of them has seen Him in literal eons. According to Lucifer, God simply walked away one day, leaving His children and His creation to fend for themselves. Clearly, He sent messages here and there—one of which was to Amenadiel to bless Penelope Decker with a Miracle baby; and He agreed to that deal with Lucifer when Malcolm shot and killed him—but otherwise, He’s the Absentee Father-in-Chief.
But Chloe doesn’t care about any of that. She doesn’t want to know the reason behind God’s decision to put her in Lucifer’s path, because it doesn’t matter. Whether they’re following His plan or not, Chloe is happier than she has ever been, with the people she loves most in the universe, and she isn’t going to let anybody, not even God Almighty, take away even a piece of it.
And of course, she has questions, starting with what am I? followed by, can I visit my dad in Heaven? But right now, her main concern is Lucifer and ensuring he doesn’t spiral out over his abusive, neglectful, asshole father being on Earth.
“Mom, is Lucifer okay?” Trixie asks as Chloe tucks her in.
Rather than outright lying to her daughter, Chloe takes a page out of Lucifer’s book—she prevaricates. “Why do you ask, Monkey?”
Trixie shrugs, rolling onto her side and cuddling Miss Alien. “His soul looked weird tonight. It wasn’t as bright and it was kind of flickering.”
Oh, that can’t be good...
Chloe sighs, adjusting the blankets around her daughter's body. “Lucifer...got some difficult news today. Everybody’s okay,” she adds hastily when she sees Trixie’s expression fall, “but he’s having trouble dealing with it. So, for now, let’s be gentle with him and don’t give him too hard a time, okay?”
Trixie nods. “He’ll be okay, though, right?”
“We’ll make sure of it,” Chloe says in a conspiratorial whisper. Trixie grins and nods. “Okay, babe, we’ve got your glass of water, I read you a story, and tucked you in. Get some sleep. And let me worry about Lucifer, got it?”
“Got it. Love you, Mommy.”
Chloe leans in and kisses her daughter’s forehead. Not for the first time does she wonder how any parent can’t love their child unconditionally, instead treating them the way Lucifer was treated. How a parent could throw their child away, locking them away in the darkness, and not check up on them once in eons.
“Love you, too, Monkey. So, so much.”
Quietly closing her daughter’s door, Chloe returns to the main room where she last saw Lucifer. He isn’t there. And when she checks their bedroom, Lucas isn’t where she left him, either. Pushing back the instinctive panic, she next checks the balcony...and relaxes. Lucifer is sitting in one of the loungers, wings out, with their son in his arms, and he’s humming softly as he stares off into the night sky.
“Mind if I join you?” she asks lightly, running a hand through Lucifer’s hair.
He blinks as if he’s coming out of a trance and stops humming. “Please do,” he says, a small but genuine smile on his lips. He opens one of his wings and scoots over a little, giving her room to sit.
Lucas is wide awake, staring up with big eyes at his father’s wings. “You like those, don’t you, kiddo?” Chloe says softly, cradling his little head in her palm. The dark curls he was born with are already starting to thicken, and she knows this kid is going to be a spitting image of his father—but with his mother’s eyes.
“Well, of course he does, Detective, my wings are magnificent,” Lucifer interjects smugly. It sounds half-hearted at best, but she plays along briefly.
She chuckles. “Of course, silly me.” She rests her head on Lucifer’s shoulder. “How are you?” The heavy sigh he heaves is answer enough. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse, likely,” he says with another sigh, dropping the performance entirely. “I’ve not even seen the bastard yet and He's already got me twisted into knots.”
She can’t help it; he’s a terrible influence on her. “You usually like being twisted into knots.”
He gives her a look, lips twitching. “Not by my father, Detective,” he corrects her primly. “But you would be correct, twist me up all you like, darling.” She snorts. His amusement fades almost instantly. “I just wish I knew what He truly wanted, coming here. Because I will fight for the right to stay with my family this time; I won’t ever give this up.” He looks down at their son, then at her, his eyes shining with defiance, determination, and love. “I’ll never give you up.”
It’s a relief to hear him say it. Not that she even once thought he wouldn’t fight, after everything they’ve been through just this last year. But she knows, even if he wouldn’t be caught dead admitting it, that he is terrified of his father. And for good reason, after what He did to His own son for asking a question.
One night, while she was still pregnant with Lucas, Chloe laid in bed and tried to do the math on how old Lucifer was when he was cast into Hell. With the little bit of information Lucifer has given her, and what little she knows about biblical lore, she came to the profoundly horrific conclusion that he was essentially a teenager, only a few years older than Trixie, when he was sent to Hell. When that realization hit, it literally made her sick, and she had to make a mad dash to the toilet to empty her stomach’s contents.
Lucifer has made jokes about his “teenage rebellion”, but it wasn’t a joke; he was still a child in human terms when his family beat him half to death, his father banished him and his mother said nothing, and then he burned. He once told her about his Fall, and his arrival in Hell; she still can’t think about it without her heart shattering.
Honestly, it would probably be for the best if she never meets God face to face; the chances of her not giving the Creator of the Universe the infamous Chloe Decker right hook are practically nonexistent.
“Do you know what I just realized?” Lucifer says suddenly.
Chloe hums. “That we have the cutest little angel baby in the universe?”
He chuckles. “Not exactly breaking news, darling; I knew that the very moment I first saw him.” He lightly brushes his thumb along Lucas’s temple. “No, I realized...that we never celebrated our one year anniversary.”
Frowning, she tilts her head, thinking back. “Well, to be fair, I was almost eight months pregnant that day.”
“True,” he concedes. “But I was quite looking forward to it. Before this little gremlin came into being, I intended to whisk you away for two weeks to Paris. Or Tuscany, I hadn’t entirely decided. But that’s when I intended to propose, originally.”
Chloe blinks. “Wait, you were going to propose months before you did?”
“The thought was in my head, certainly. I told you that I wanted everything with you, Chloe—and I meant everything. Honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing how far back my more domesticated fantasies of you began.”
She smiles, propping her chin on his shoulder. “Are you saying I’ve tamed the Devil?” she teases. He scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. “Well, I was going to suggest we ask Linda and Amenadiel to babysit one evening and go out to dinner or something, but considering their houseguest...”
“Yes, I would rather avoid that situation, myself,” he says dryly.
“I know Ella would be over the moon to watch Lucas for a few hours,” she suggests, the idea taking root and building excitement. She and Lucifer haven’t gone out in months, too busy with work, baby preparations, and rogue priests.
Lucifer smirks. “Oh, I would need far longer with you than a few hours, Detective,” he says in that low, seductive tone that sparks a Pavlonian response between her thighs. “But I think that sounds like a marvelous idea. Shall we wait until you’re medically cleared so we may have the full experience?” He waggles his eyebrows.
As much as she loves that Lucifer is so worried about hurting her that he’s putting off his own pleasure, Chloe has been through all of this before; she knows what it feels like when she’s recovered from giving birth. There’s no soreness whatsoever, and her body is already back to its pre-baby shape, thank you, celestial healing and immortality. And she spends her days watching Lucifer Morningstar strut around the house, usually only wearing an open silk robe and pajama bottoms—he hasn’t bothered with the three-piece suits since the first week they brought Lucas home and the baby spit up on him one too many times.
The point is, Chloe’s libido has reawakened and she lives with the man for whom the term “sex on legs” was likely created. And she has gotten used to having at least two orgasms a night, if not more; exhaustion from a new baby or not, she wants Lucifer to throw her on the bed and have his wicked way with her. Or she might just have her wicked way with him, she hasn’t quite decided on that yet.
“I really think we’d be safe a week before the official medical release,” she says quietly.
Conflict shines in his eyes; he wants her just as much, if not more, but his innate instinct to protect her from harm is overriding it. Chloe blinks at that realization: She is more important to Lucifer Morningstar than sex. Not a sentence she ever believed she’d put together. But it’s also incredibly flattering.
“Chloe...believe me, I would love nothing more than to let the little gremlin sleep in the nursery for a night so that I can take you apart so thoroughly the only name you’ll remember is mine as you scream it, but...”
She nods, biting back her disappointment. “It’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable with it right now, we can wait,” she says, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I just miss you, is all.” Which is a bit insane, considering they’re currently together 24/7.
He sighs. “And I, you,” he says softly, leaning down to capture her lips for a moment. Without thinking about it, she lightly tugs his bottom lip with her teeth, making him groan. “So conflicted...”
“Sorry, I didn’t intend to do that.”
He shakes his head, her smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize; I love knowing you’re as insatiable as I am.” He glances down at Lucas for a moment, then switches to prayer.
Just imagine how heightened the orgasms will be after extended delayed gratification.
Chloe snorts a laugh—both at his prayer, and that he’s censoring himself in front of a baby who doesn’t understand words yet. We’ll either last five minutes or pass out from exhaustion during foreplay.
The genuinely offended look on his face makes her laugh. How dare you! I would never!
She gives him a look. “Babe, we live with a three-week-old newborn who seems to be nocturnal judging by how much time he spends awake at night. The struggle is real.”
Making Lucifer laugh, especially after a day like today, fills her with warm pride. He has such a great laugh. “That it is, my love,” he murmurs, still smiling. “It’s worth it, though.”
“Yeah?”
He nods. “Every screaming banshee moment of it.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
“So, it’s a date? You make arrangements with Miss Lopez; I’ll make reservations for dinner, say, next Saturday night?” he asks hopefully.
Cupping his face in her palm, she brings their lips to an inch apart. “It’s a date, Satan.”
Lucifer drops his phone onto the nightstand beside the bed and leans back into the mattress. It’s the middle of the night, his entire family sleeps soundly, and yet, he can’t close his eyes for more than a minute without replaying every horrific thing that has happened to him as a result of his father banishing him from Heaven. Now that the cork has been pulled and Lucifer has been made aware of his father’s arrival to Earth, Amenadiel has not stopped trying to mend fences that aren’t so much broken as they are ground into dust and blown into the Pacific.
Apparently, his father wishes to see him. Well, too bloody bad; Lucifer spent millennia trying to get his father’s attention—whether when he first arrived in Hell (after recovering enough to try), or much later, standing on his balcony and demanding answers about Chloe’s Miracleness. He can’t even recall how much time he’s spent raging to an empty, silent sky with no response.
In fact, in billions of years, his father only communicated with him once, and that was when Malcolm Graham shot Lucifer, he died and went to Hell, and found his mother’s open, empty Hell Loop door, then sent him back to Earth. Even that was only because the bastard wanted something from him. All of them—his father, his mother, Amenadiel...they only ever come to him when he’s useful to them. Which just begs the question: What does the old bastard want from him this time? If it’s to return to Hell, too bloody bad, Dad. Lucifer will not leave his family high and dry the way God left His. He has a son of his own now; he’s getting married to his soulmate in five months; they have eternity stretched out before them. How could he possibly, willingly give this up?
He could force you back; He’s done it before.
That He has. The Grandest Fall in History. Followed by thousands of years of Amenadiel chasing him around Earth and “requesting” his return to the throne. More times than he can count, those requests turned bloody; if Lucifer didn’t go willingly, the Fist of God persuaded him forcefully. At least now Amenadiel has a sense for why Lucifer will not go back—fatherhood has given both brothers a million reasons to remain on Earth. For the last several months, since Chloe’s pregnancy became public knowledge, Lucifer and Amenadiel reached some sort of unspoken agreement, a common ground. Lucifer can actually be in the same room as his brother and not want to strangle him—most of the time; he’s still Amenadiel, and he’s still got a stick up his arse.
They even had a conversation after Amenadiel’s daughter was born about their own upbringing. One in which Amenadiel finally admitted that perhaps their father wasn’t as blameless as he’s always made Him out to be. Lucifer never thought he’d see the day his pious, sanctimonious brother didn’t staunchly defend their father with every breath he took and give Him credit where credit was most certainly not due. And yet, Amenadiel admitted that he will not raise his daughter the way he and Lucifer were raised—callously, as soldiers. Baby Emily will have the choices to do as she desires in life; a right Amenadiel won in his fight with Remiel.
Which is why Lucifer is so disappointed in his brother currently, whereas before he was proud of Amenadiel’s growth and realizations. And he desperately hopes that Linda keeps a close eye on her daughter when spending time with God. Part of Lucifer wants to go over there right now and retrieve both the doctor and the baby for their safety, and shake some sense into his brother—and, perhaps, punch his father in the face while he’s at it.
He sees Linda for their weekly session in a few days; he can warn her then. For the moment, Lucifer wants to keep as much distance between himself and his father as possible, or the Devil may do something he’ll regret. It isn’t the consequences to himself that have him frozen in fear; it’s the possible aftershocks of those consequences affecting Chloe and the children. He doesn’t think God will harm them—His Miracle and two young children, one of whom is His grandson—but best not to risk it.
His phone buzzes again with another string of text messages from Amenadiel. He glares at it. No means bloody no, brother. What is so difficult to understand about that?
Lucifer isn’t foolish enough to believe he’ll escape his father’s entire Earthly visit without seeing Him at least once, but after everything his father has done, he at least deserves for it to be on his terms. What those terms may be, he’s yet to decide.
Chloe lets out a particularly raucous snore that forces Lucifer to stifle a laugh. The sound is truly horrific; it’s amazing Lucifer gets any sleep beside her. But he also finds it oddly endearing, which only goes to show just how far gone he is for her. At least Lucas doesn’t seem to mind the noise and tends to sleep right through it.
Her breathing changes and he winces, knowing it means she’s waking. He’d hoped she’d sleep until their son demands feeding again; rest has become a commodity in the penthouse, even for Trixie, who can hear her brother’s cries from her bedroom, despite the thick door and walls. Lucifer bought her the best noise-canceling headphones available on the market when complaints from Trixie’s teacher reached Chloe’s ears about the girl falling asleep during class.
“Lucifer?” Chloe mumbles drowsily.
“Shh,” he soothes, reaching over to run his fingers through her hair. “Everything’s okay, Detective, go back to sleep.”
But she shakes her head and yawns, pushing up to her elbow to glance over at Lucas’s bassinet. “Did he wake you?”
“No. He’s been sleeping like a baby angel tonight, actually. Even through your Albanian field wench impersonation.”
She playfully slaps his thigh, her lips twitching against a smile. “Is that why you’re awake? Because of my Albanian field wench impersonation?” She mimics his accent—badly.
Snorting a laugh, he shakes his head. “Also, no. I’ve been texting with Amenadiel; it seems a lot of people can’t sleep tonight.”
Her expression turns sympathetic. “What’s he want now?”
Lucifer rolls his eyes. “For you and I to come have dinner with my father. I told him absolutely not. He wants me to just ‘hear Him out, Luci’.” It’s his turn to mimic someone’s voice—Amenadiel’s, specifically. “It would seem Amenadiel has gone back to licking Dad’s boots; didn’t take long, did it?”
Chloe doesn’t look the least bit impressed by his brother. “I would’ve thought with Emily, he’d have gained an understanding that your father’s an abusive asshole.”
Pride flares for his Detective. “I thought the same. He even admitted the way we were raised left much to be desired, and that he would never do the same thing to his daughter. Yet, now he’s allowing the bastard to reside in the same house as her.” Lucifer shakes his head, confounded. “That poor child; I only hope He doesn’t ruin her before she can even crawl.”
“You don’t think He’ll harm Emily, do you?” Chloe asks, worry and fear flickering through her eyes.
Lucifer hesitates. “I don’t believe so,” he says carefully. “But...harm is a very broad word, Detective, and it comes in many forms.” Most of which have been done to him—by his own father. “I don’t think she and Linda are in any imminent danger, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I certainly wouldn’t allow Him anywhere near Lucas, much less to touch him.”
“No, I absolutely agree with you there,” she says fervently. Her eyebrows furrow and she bites her lip, looking at Lucifer hesitantly.
“What is it, love?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing, just a passing thought,” she says unconvincingly.
“Chloe?” It’s certainly something, judging by the look in her eyes, but for whatever reason, she doesn’t want to share it with him.
Sighing, she pushes herself upright, sitting beside him. “I’ve been thinking... Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world to see your father—just once, to get it over with, and maybe then, He’ll be satisfied and go back to Heaven.”
A feeling of betrayal begins to flicker within him. He shakes his head at her, aghast. “I thought you were on my side with this, Detective.”
“I am,” she says hastily. “Believe me, I don’t want you, or any of us, anywhere near Him, but if He’s as determined to see you as Amenadiel is making it out to be... I mean, wouldn’t it be better to do it on our terms rather than having Him show up here, in our home, with our children here?” She’s watching him carefully, like she doesn’t know how he’s going to react, and worried that he’ll be angry with her.
But his anger isn’t with her, never with her. And hadn’t he just been thinking along the same lines? “I suppose, you may have a point,” he says slowly. “But if I do see Him, Chloe, you will not be there.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, think again,” she says flatly. “You are not facing Him alone, Lucifer, absolutely not. Where you go, I go, even if it’s to deal with your bastard father.”
He bloody knew this was going to happen. As much as he absolutely loves how loyal and protective Chloe is with him, he doesn’t even want to imagine her being in the same place as his father. It's bad enough they’re on the same plane.
“Darling,” he says, trying to remain calm, “this isn’t Thanksgiving dinner with your mother; this is God, the literal Creator of the Universe—the bastard who punished His so-called favorite son with eternity in Hell for asking a bloody question. If you think, for one moment, I want one of the people who means the most to me in the universe anywhere near Him, you are the one who needs to think again. Chloe, if something were to happen to you...” His voice breaks. “It would worse than destroy me. I would never forgive myself. Hell would be a mercy comparatively. If He harmed you, I would raze the Silver City to ashes—”
“Lucifer.” She reaches out for his face, but he pulls out of her touch; just imagining the possibilities is agony for him, why can’t she see that? “Hey. I know, I get it. And I feel the same way about you, which is why I won’t let you go alone. I’ve seen what your father being here is doing to you, and I know it will be a hundred times worse if you have to face Him; of course, I want to be there, if only to be your anchor. We do things together, Lucifer, as a team. Partners ‘til the end.”
“Not in this,” he says, feeling like he’s being strangled just at the thought. “Chloe, please...”
She leans forward, finally succeeding in pulling him close to press their foreheads together. “I know you’re scared,” she whispers. “I am, too. But Lucifer, we’re better together, and you know that. Every bad guy we’ve faced, we’ve defeated, together. God is no different.”
He scoffs weakly. And he hates that she’s right. He doesn’t want to face his father alone, knowing Amenadiel is likely back on His side and pushing Lucifer to be civil and understanding. He needs somebody at his side who he knows will have his back, no matter what, and there is only one person who fits that description.
“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, folding figuratively and literally. He curls into her, pressing his face to the curve of her neck. She cradles the back of his head, lightly scratching his skull with her fingernails in that way she knows he loves. “Very well, Detective, you win. Partners ‘til the end, it is.”
She presses a kiss to his ear. “We’ll get through this, Lucifer,” she whispers.
And coming from her, he almost believes it.
Chapter 13: Codeword: Monkeybottoms
Summary:
Thank you to MightBeAWriter for proofreading!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Although he is absolutely guaranteed to regret it, Lucifer finally gives in to Amenadiel’s incessant requests to attend a family dinner. He’s spent two days warring with himself before ultimately setting his terms with his brother and father.
Well, Lucifer doesn’t give a damn about his father's wishes; God does not get to see his son, period. He does relax at Amenadiel’s guarantee—slightly. There is one thing Lucifer will say about his father: God does not lie. Likely, it’s where Lucifer gets his honesty policy. God will prevaricate, or talk in riddles, or simply not answer, but no lies have ever passed His divine, metaphorical lips. If He says Chloe is safe, Lucifer believes that much.
His session with Linda is one of the worst he’s had in some time.
“So! I hear you’ve an Almighty houseguest,” he says, feigning casualness as he settles onto his therapist’s couch Tuesday morning.
Linda’s eyes widen and she looks completely overwhelmed. Lucifer can sympathize. “God...” she says in a tone that conveys disbelief, existential dread, and possibly the need for the copious amounts of alcohol Lucifer requested for dinner. “In my house, Lucifer.”
“You certainly have my sympathies, Doctor. Dare I ask how it’s going?”
“He just...showed up one afternoon. This man I didn’t recognize, on my doorstep, requesting to meet His granddaughter. I think Amenadiel thought I was being murdered when I yelled for him.” Lucifer snorts a laugh, even though, really, it’s not funny in the slightest, it does paint an amusing picture. “Of course, Amenadiel recognized Him. Then suddenly, He’s asking if we have a futon, and now I’m living with the Creator of the Universe.”
Lucifer hesitates, twisting the ring on his finger. “He hasn’t...harmed you in any way, has He?” he asks quietly.
Linda stares at him. “Um, no...?” Then she tilts her head, promptly switching to Therapist Mode™. “Lucifer, why do you think He would harm us?”
He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Just checking, you know. Being a dutiful brother-in-law and uncle.”
Linda, of course, sees right through him. She leans forward, looking nervous and serious. “Lucifer, answer me honestly: Is my baby in danger?”
Letting out a long breath, he drags a hand across his face. “I don’t believe so,” he says carefully. “You know my history with...with Him. It isn’t exactly what we’d call functional, and I don’t trust Him any further than I can teach Mazikeen decorum. But no, Doctor, I do not believe your child, or you, are in danger.”
She relaxes and settles back in her chair. “I will say, it’s weird having Him there. Amenadiel is someone else entirely when He’s around; he snaps to attention every time He walks into a room. And He’s actually...not bad with Emily.”
“Don’t leave her alone with Him,” he says suddenly without meaning to. She frowns. “Perhaps it’s paranoia, but...promise me, Doctor. Do not leave your daughter alone with Him.”
Perhaps she sees his desperation, but she nods without questioning him. “I promise, Lucifer. At least, when I’m around. How are you doing with all of this? It must be overwhelming, having your father here after so very long.”
He scoffs, twisting the ring on his finger. “Understatement, Doctor. I suppose it’s been...difficult. Chloe has been...” He rolls his eyes. “I despise the word godsend, but something close to that. I’d likely be neck deep in booze, drugs, and writhing, sweaty, naked bodies if not for her. I’ve agreed to this blasted family dinner of Amenadiel’s this weekend.”
Linda’s eyebrows shoot up. “That’s news to me.”
“Yes, well, I only just sent Amenadiel the message before coming here. Chloe will be with me, but Lucas will not. I don’t want my son anywhere near Him.”
Linda sighs. “Lucifer, I don’t mean to harp on this, but... Honestly, are the children safe?”
“I have my own reasons for not letting my son close to Him, Doctor, and I truly don’t think He’ll harm either of them, but...it is not a risk that I am willing to take with Lucas. I worry that his association with me alone could be hazardous to him, and I won’t run the risk of my father deciding to take my son back to the Silver City with Him. Or worse.” It isn’t something he can even explain properly; like one of Chloe’s gut feelings.
The banishment to Hell wasn’t Lucifer’s first punishment from his father. He doesn’t like to think of those other times, the ‘discipline’ he suffered at his father’s hands—and there was plenty. Not only him; other siblings who put a toe out of line also faced God’s temperamental wrath. Their mother didn’t always have the kindest touch, either. And when the two of Them argued...Lucifer shudders.
“Lucifer? Where are you right now?”
Linda’s faint voice reaches his ears as he struggles through a memory. “Right here, Doctor. In your office, of course,” he says flatly, forcing himself back to the present. He shakes himself. “My apologies, darling.”
Her eyebrows are furrowed in concern. “What were you just thinking about?”
He opens his mouth to answer, but only a strangled sound from the back of the throat comes out. Swallowing, he tries again. “A memory,” he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. “Of my parents arguing. They both possessed tempers you couldn’t imagine, Doctor. And when they got angry, the Heavens themselves shook.”
“Did that happen often? Your parents, arguing?”
He scoffs. “More so when Dad started tinkering around with Earth. Mum didn’t like Him spending all His time in the garage, and She was never shy about letting Her opinions be known, which hasn’t changed in the slightest. And if my siblings or I happened to be present...well, let’s just say we weren’t shielded from the worst of it.”
Linda’s expression turns sympathetic. “I know this is difficult for you, Lucifer. But did your parents ever...strike you, physically?”
Looking away sharply, he tries to push back the blurring in his eyes. “Well, my parents were without physical form, but they certainly had their methods,” he says dryly, his voice getting choked. “Doctor, please, I understand that you've a professional curiosity, and I do not blame you for that, but this is one topic of conversation I do not wish to discuss. Ever.”
For likely the first time that they’ve known one another, Linda Martin actually backs down. “Okay, Lucifer. We don’t have to talk about that. Were there any...happy memories you have of the Silver City? WIth your parents?”
He thinks back—way, way back—to those early days before humanity and Earth were a twinkle in Dad’s eye. “Some,” he says softly. “Mostly of Mum. She would...sing to us, sometimes. And She had the most breathtaking singing voice, Doctor—far more beautiful than angelic. It was one of the few times I would sit still for more than a few minutes, to listen rapturously to Her. Actually, I think that’s where my love of music began. With Her.” And suddenly, he misses his mother. As chaotic and unpredictable as Goddess had been when She was on Earth, he does think She was trying. Beyond the manipulations and the lies...trying to kill Chloe...She genuinely wanted to reconnect with Her children. And Lucifer, most of all. “One of the songs She sang to me, I sing it now to Lucas on occasion. It’s a lullaby, in the celestial tongue.”
“What’s it about?” Linda asks, smiling softly.
Lucifer smiles wanly. “A parent’s love for their child,” he says in the simplest terms. “Promising to shield them from harm and protect them from anything frightening.” He bites the inside of his cheek, eyes watering without his permission. “To never abandon them to the dark.” He snorts a bitter, wet laugh. “So much for that promise, am I right?”
“Well, it sounds like a beautiful song,” Linda says softly, tears in her eyes. She leans over to the table, nudging the tissue box towards him.
He actually takes one, twisting it around his fingers. “It is,” he says, pretending his voice didn’t just break. He clears his throat loudly. “There were...other times, too, I suppose. Mum would groom our wings. Dad would show us His creations, explain what they were, their function. And He was...” A corner of his lips twitches up. “He could be quite humorous on occasion. The original teller of Dad Jokes. But of course, it all went to absolute shambles after a while. I went to Hell, Mum joined me, Dad took off to His own corner of the universe. And now, He’s back. Delightful.”
“Do you have questions for Him after all this time?”
Lucifer’s jaw tenses. “Oh, do I ever, Doctor,” he says darkly.
“If you could only ask Him one question, what would it be?”
A few years ago, his answer would be along the lines of, Why did You throw me away? Why didn’t You love me? Why must I suffer in Hell for the rest of eternity? Or he would just punch the bastard to avoid the emotional turmoil.
Today, though, he has other questions.
“I would ask Him what His intentions are for Chloe and Lucas,” he says quietly. Linda looks surprised at his answer. “After the mess with Father Kinley, Mazikeen found an old letter written in the language of angels, and a dagger that once belonged to me, given to me by Michael. The letter was even written in Michael’s handwriting and contained the entirety of Kinley’s prophecy.”
That interests Linda. “What did it say?”
“When the Devil walks the Earth to find his first love, so that no evil shall be released, a new angel will be created. She will walk the Devil’s path as his equal and vanquish his Darkness to restore his Light. Together, they will find new life, and this new life will be the Devil’s key to Salvation,” Lucifer recites. “I believe it to have been one of Uriel’s prophecies, handed over to humans, by Michael.”
She shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed. “Why would he do that?”
“Well, as Kinley had my dagger made of celestial steel, I believe Michael was trying to prevent my eventual return to the Silver City. The prophecy was mistranslated, likely intentionally, and the blade could kill me.” That alone should have been reason enough to sic Teivel on his twin. “But I don’t care about that; it wouldn’t be the first time Michael has intended to harm me. Obviously, Chloe becoming an angel was foreseen, as was the birth of our son. Between them, supposedly lies my key to salvation.”
“And you think that means returning to Heaven?”
“Well, what else could it mean?”
“You remember when we were discussing the original translation of the prophecy, and I suggested that ‘evil shall be released’ could mean something other than the obvious?” Lucifer nods. “‘Salvation’ also has many meanings, Lucifer. It could mean that Chloe and Lucas could help you redeem yourself, or protect you from some harm. It could mean they’re your personal salvation.”
And they are, aren’t they? When Lucifer is with his family, nothing can touch him and he feels invincible. Chloe has saved him from himself dozens of times, several in the past week alone. And it’s a far kinder theory than the one Lucifer had: That Lucas is to be some sort of savior or sovereign in the Silver City. All of which Lucifer would go to war with the Heavens to prevent.
He startles slightly when the timer sounds, signaling the session is already nearly over. “Is there anything else you want to discuss today?” Linda asks.
“Not that I can think of, Doctor. And anyway, we’ll have plenty to discuss at our next session, after this blasted family dinner.”
Linda’s eyes are wide again. “Yes, that will be...something. In the meantime, if you need to talk, you know how to reach me.”
Lucifer smiles. “And the same goes for you, Linda; if you need a break from the Almighty, you are always welcome to take refuge in the penthouse.”
She smiles. “I will keep that in mind.”
Before family dinner, though, Chloe and Lucifer have something else on their calendar: celebrating their one year anniversary. Since Chloe had been close to eight months pregnant on the actual day, they decided to take an evening for themselves, allowing Lucas to stay with a sitter. Arranging that sitter only takes one visit to the precinct.
Chloe knocks on the open lab door, finding Ella hunched over the evidence table examining a spread of crime scene photos. Lucifer is at home with Lucas, having requested it specifically—a “lad’s day”, as he called it, jokingly promising not to let Lucas near the stripper poles in Lux. At least, Chloe hopes it was a joke. He came home from his therapy session distracted and not in the mood to talk about it, but if spending time with his son helps, Chloe certainly isn’t going to stop them.
“Hey, am I interrupting?”
Ella’s head pops up and she spins around hopefully, then her expression drops. “You didn’t bring the kiddo?” she says, disappointed.
“It’s nice to see you, too,” Chloe says dryly, but she’s grinning. “And no, Lucifer and Lucas are having a guys’ bonding day or something. I’m not sure what that entails with a one-month-old, exactly, but I think Lucifer needed it today.”
Ella tilts her head curiously. “Why, what happened?”
They’ve decided to keep God’s presence on Earth on a need-to-know basis, mostly to prevent word spreading and Linda’s house being overrun by religious fanatics. “He had a rough therapy session,” Chloe says dismissively. “But I actually came by to talk to you.”
“Really? Shoot, what’s up?”
Chloe hesitates, already knowing what the reaction will be to her question. “What qualifications do you have for babysitting a newborn?”
As predicted, Ella gasps loudly, her eyes get big, and she starts jumping on the spot. “Ohmygod, are you asking me to babysit?”
“I am asking your qualifications to babysit,” Chloe corrects her. While she trusts Ella Lopez with her and her children’s lives, she and Lucifer are particular about who spends time with their son alone; Chloe would vet her own mother at this point—and Penelope would probably fail.
Immediately, Ella launches into detail. “I’m certified in CPR and First Aid; I minored in childhood development in college; I babysat for my older brother’s baby daughter when she was only a few weeks old. And I freaking love your kid, Decker!”
Chloe laughs at the last part, then looks at her friend curiously. “Really? You minored in childhood development?”
Ella nods. “I was either going to be a forensic scientist or a special education teacher for young kids.” She shrugs. “Forensics won out, but only just. Seriously, though, are you asking me to babysit?”
“Lucifer and I want to go out for an evening to celebrate our one year anniversary that we missed when I was pregnant. It won’t be overnight, and we’d ask you to come to the penthouse. Trixie will be with Dan, so it’s just Lucas you have to worry about.”
“I am so there, Chloe!”
“I thought that would be your answer. I’ll write out a list of instructions and make sure there’s plenty of breast milk for him. He’s a pretty easy baby, most of the time, and doesn’t cry unless he actually needs something, or just wants attention. And we’ll pay you for your time, of course, probably really well, knowing Lucifer.”
Ella waves that off. “Pfft. We’re family, Chloe, you don’t need to pay me.” She tackles Chloe in a hug. “This is going to be so great, Lucas is the sweetest baby ever!”
Returning the hug, Chloe smiles. “He really is.” She hesitates. “The thing is, Ella...and please, keep this to yourself, that’s really important. Some of Lucifer’s family is in town. And Lucifer is worried about something happening to Lucas. Are you trained in firearm safety?”
Ella’s brow furrows. “Um, yeah, of course. I’m from Detroit, Chloe. It’s kind of a prerequisite there. What do you mean, Lucifer’s family? Like, other angels?”
“For starters. I can’t get into the details of it. But I have special bullets for my gun that can hurt angels. While we’re gone, I’ll give you access to them. If any angels show up, you shoot first and then call us immediately.”
Ella’s eyes widen. “Is that likely?”
Considering how often Michael has dropped by... “I really don’t know. It’s a possibility.”
Ella nods slowly. “Okaaay. I mean, I never imagined shooting an angel, but I’d never let anything happen to Lucas, you know that.”
“I do, and I trust you. That’s why I’m asking you to sit for him on Saturday. I just wanted to give you a heads-up, just in case.”
“Yeah, done. Shoot the angels, call you or Lucifer.”
Chloe lets out a breath. She wasn’t sure how Ella would feel about shooting angels, so that was easier than she’d suspected it would be. “Okay, great. I need to get back home in case Lucifer hired strippers for my one-month-old, but I’ll text you the details about Saturday...and thank you, Ella.”
“I should be thanking you, I’ve been wanting more baby Deckerstar time. And if it helps adult Deckerstar have some alone, adult time, all the better.”
Snorting a laugh, Chloe hugs her friend again and heads out, waving at a few coworkers as she passes. And sending a longing look towards her empty desk—one more month, then back to work. She isn’t sure how to feel about that.
While Chloe is out running a few errands, Lucifer is completely alone in the penthouse with his son for the first time, and so far, it isn’t the catastrophe he initially believed it might be. For a moment, he feared that everything he’s learned about his son and baby-rearing in general would fly straight out the window once Chloe left, but that hasn’t been the case. It’s actually been quite a lovely afternoon. The Morningstar lads popped down to Lux so Lucifer could introduce Lucas to his staff, some of whom have been asking to meet the baby, and the fledgling was fawned over by half-dressed dancers and servers—Chloe was absolutely correct; their son is an utter flirt with the ladies. Lunch was had—a bottle for baby; Cool Ranch Puffs and a sandwich for the Devil. And now Lucas’s baby swing is set up beside the piano while Lucifer plays for him, pre-nap.
Every so often, Lucifer glances over to the gently rocking contraption where his son, his favored baby duck pacifier between his lips, is soothed to sleep by the music. Today, because Chloe allowed Lucifer to dress him, Lucas is wearing a tiny version of the Devil’s trademark black suit, white shirt, and black, red-soled booties on his feet. The Detective only rolled her eyes, shook her head, then took a picture of her matching boys, muttering “so freaking cute” under her breath.
Is it utterly absurd to dress a one-month-old in a genuine Prada suit? Possibly. Does Lucifer care? Not even a little. After the morning Lucifer has had, he feels he’s earned a bit of absurdity in his life.
Lucifer spends as little time as possible thinking about his early years in the Silver City for a reason. While there were many good times spent with his siblings (and some with his parents), there were triple the amount of bad ones. The young angel Samael, was more of an outcast than Lucifer is willing to admit to anybody, even to Chloe. He always felt...different from the rest of his siblings—where they were happy to go along with anything their father said or commanded, Lucifer dragged his feet or questioned. The questions began early and innocently enough that God didn’t punish him for it; in fact, He seemed to enjoy answering them, explaining things to His curious son’s satisfaction.
Then the questions turned a touch more blasphemous as Lucifer wondered why he had to do boring tasks rather than playing and having fun. He’d begun to shirk his duties more and more often—and that’s when the punishments began. Lucifer shudders, ancient fear setting in, and quickly turns away from those memories.
Then came the day God announced his new project: humanity. Humans, who would look like angels, sans the wings and other celestial benefits, and would have much shorter, finite lifespans. But they would be given free will and choice, both brand-new concepts at the time. Humans would be able to make their own decisions, good or bad, and live their own lives—they could even choose not to follow God’s teachings and laws without fear of punishment! That had sent uneasy murmurings amongst the angels.
Most of Lucifer’s siblings had thought the whole project a waste of time; they thought humans would be mindless, dirty animals with no redeeming value whatsoever—a lot of them still think that. And free will sounded exhausting.
Of course, Lucifer had been enraptured by the idea. That humans would be given freedom to follow their desires, and at the end of their short lives, if they were free of sin and guilt, they would be rewarded with eternal paradise in Heaven.
Well, that’s when the trouble started.
Dad started ignoring everyone in favor of His project; Mum grew angry and resentful. Their children suffered as a result. Lucifer, especially, seemed to be at the epicenter for many of their arguments. One time, when Lucifer was just starting his star project in the cosmos, he’d been working out how to create stars in his father’s workshop, asking Him questions and getting increasingly shorter answers. Mum had come barreling in yelling about something or another, and Her temper reached chaotic levels. She threw one of Lucifer’s newly-formed stars, aimed at God’s head, missed, and hit Lucifer, instead.
Rather than his parents rushing to him in concern for his severe burns, Lucifer had gotten shouted at for leaving his possessions lying around and for getting in the way. Michael and Amenadiel had been present at the time, and had been the ones to take him to the infirmary for treatment. Neither of his parents bothered to check up on him even once.
And that’s one of the tamer stories that Lucifer can recall.
Now that God is on Earth—in human form, no less—all those terrible, repressed memories are floating to the surface of Lucifer’s mind again, try as he may to block them out. A more cynical part of him wonders if it’s something God is doing intentionally—reminding His son of what He is capable of as some sort of warning or threat.
Or it’s all the bloody therapy.
But now more than ever, Lucifer is determined not to repeat his father’s mistakes with Lucas—or even Trixie, who he considers as much his own as his son. No child deserves to be treated that way; it’s one of the reasons why, in Hell, Lucifer created a separate wing for the pedophiles and child abusers—they deserve special treatment.
Mostly, though, there’s one thing Lucifer can’t understand. And that’s how a parent can look at their child and not love them completely and unconditionally. How a parent can raise their son or daughter from infancy to adulthood, and then just throw them away as though they meant absolutely nothing to them. Because every time Lucifer holds Lucas, or looks at his sweet face, his only desire is to protect his son from every bad and scary thing the universe could throw at him. Not simply because he’s a tiny, defenseless creature, but because Lucifer loves him with his entire being, and can’t imagine ever not doing so.
Lucas lets out a whimper and Lucifer immediately snaps back into the present, finding the baby angel has managed to spit out his pacifier into his lap. Chuckling softly, Lucifer reaches over to replace it, running a hand over the feather soft curls atop his head. On the floor beside the swing, Teivel is curled up asleep.
One thing that’s surprised Lucifer since bringing Lucas home from the hospital is the Hellhound’s reaction to him. Not once has Lucifer worried that Teivel might harm the baby, but he had thought the baby’s crying would be off-putting to him. To the contrary, Teivel seems able to sense when Lucas is getting upset and immediately pads over, nosing the baby in the belly gently as though comforting him until one of his parents can tend to his needs. And he’s already fiercely protective of the baby angel, watching anybody who comes near Lucas that isn’t immediate family with a sharp gaze. Lucifer imagines that as Lucas grows, he and Teivel will have a close bond similar to the one the Devil has with his original Hellhounds, which is something unique and to be treasured.
Just as Lucas is nodding off again, the ding of the elevator catches Lucifer’s attention, and as Teivel didn’t even react, it could only be the Detective; anybody else would have at least roused him from his nap. Indeed, the doors slide open and Chloe walks into the penthouse, all smiles, carrying a brown paper bag with a few groceries and what looks to be a garment bag with a familiar logo on it.
“Hello, Detective,” Lucifer says softly as to not rouse the sleeping gremlin in the swing. He stands from the piano bench to relieve her of her burdens—and to kiss her.
“Mmm, hi,” she says when they part. “How’d everything go here?”
“No tantrums—and Lucas did quite well himself.” Chloe laughs. “Lux is still standing. I call it a win,” he says proudly.
Chloe chuckles, making her way over to Lucas and pressing a kiss to his forehead. And to give Teivel a head scratch. “I knew you’d be perfectly fine,” she says confidently. “What’d you get up to? Playing duets on the piano yet?”
“Hmm, not quite. He’s still a bit short to reach the foot pedals,” Lucifer answers, pouring himself a drink and retrieving a bottled water for Chloe. “We did briefly pop down to Lux to make a round of introductions—I see what you mean about the flirting. He couldn’t get enough of the female dancers in their rehearsal outfits. I don’t think he’s quite picked up on ‘not all boobs are for feeding’, though. That’s where his attention seemed most focused.”
She smirks. “Like father, like son, then,” she quips.
Lucifer can’t deny it, intentionally dropping his own gaze to her boobs, mostly to make her laugh or roll her eyes—he’s rewarded with both. “And you? How was your spawn-free afternoon?”
“Good,” Chloe sighs, smiling gratefully for the water. “Ella agreed to babysit—no surprise, there. Did you know she minored in childhood development in college?” Lucifer shakes his head, taking a sip of whiskey. “And she’s certified in everything we wanted certification for. I did warn her of the possibility that rogue angels might show up while we’re out, and she agreed to shoot first, have an existential crisis later.”
“We’re assuming she doesn’t get blasted with divinity when she sees their wings,” he says dryly, still feeling uncertain about leaving their son with someone who isn’t them. Not that they have a choice. Chloe has made arrangements with Daniel to watch Lucas Sunday night while the two of them attend the dreaded family dinner—and Lucas’s non-attendance is non-negotiable in the Devil’s eyes. He suggested leaving him with Mazikeen and Eve, but they’re off on a bounty this weekend—or an orgy; Lucifer wasn’t clear on the details. He glances over at the bar, where the garment bag from his tailor is draped across the counter. “Oh, I see you paid a visit to Alejandro.”
Chloe smiles secretly. “Maybe,” she says. “It might be a surprise for you—for Saturday night.”
And the Devil is instantly intrigued. “Really? Any chance you may be persuaded to give me a sneak peak?” he asks hopefully.
“Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You’ll just have to wait, Satan.”
He pouts. “But, Detective,” he whines, “if I don’t at least know the color scheme, how are we supposed to match and show off our power couple status?”
“There’s a color swatch in the bag,” she tells him, amused, rolling her eyes. “But that’s all you get until Saturday. Sorry, babe.”
Sighing as though it’s the most tragic event in history, Lucifer concedes. “Tease,” he accuses, leaning in to kiss her. He only gets a few seconds to taste her before Lucas wakes, demanding feeding. “Cockblocked yet again,” he murmurs against her lips. “And here I thought he was on my side.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to wait until Saturday night to have sex,” she reminds him, grinning as she turns to tend to their son. “I even got the medical all-clear from Dr. Scheiffer today.”
Lucifer chokes on his whiskey. “I beg your pardon?” he says faintly, eyes widening—and trousers tightening. “You did?”
Chloe shoots him a smirk. “Yep. But we’re waiting until Saturday. What was it you said? Something about extended delayed gratification?”
Lucifer has never regretted his words more than he regrets those ones. He stutters and stammers, trying to find a loophole in what he said the other night—and comes up empty. Not only is he a master at finding loopholes, he’s also quite good at closing them.
“Bloody hell, woman. Why would you tell me this early—it’s only Tuesday, Detective! That’s four more days knowing you’re allowed to have sex, and me being unable to touch you.”
“Well, I’m not talking about this with my boob in my son’s mouth, but I don’t believe you said anything about me not touching you.”
He chokes on his tongue at the images that spring to his mind, then looks at his son who is enthusiastically nursing. “You’re sleeping in the nursery tonight,” he declares firmly.
Chloe laughs. “I never said I would, Lucifer; just that I could.”
“Oh, so it’s to be torture, then? Well done, Detective.” He doesn’t know whether to be horrified or proud of her. Perhaps a bit of both. “Saturday night cannot come quickly enough. And neither can I.”
As it turns out, Saturday does come quickly. Chloe and Lucifer take turns getting ready—one of them watching Lucas while the other prepares themself, though Lucifer goes first since he takes the longest to go through his grooming routine. Tonight, his suit is dark gray paired with a dark blue shirt that matches Chloe’s dress perfectly—of course. He’s wearing the cufflinks she gave him for Christmas and a dark blue gingham pocket square.
Chloe wolf whistles as he walks down the bedroom stairs. She’s on the couch in her robe, Lucas in a baby lounger beside her playing with one of Teivel’s fluffy ears. “Look at you...” she says appreciatively.
He preens at her praise, doing a little spin for her benefit. “I do look quite dashing, don’t I?” he says smugly, heading for the bar. “Bathroom’s all yours, love.”
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going tonight.”
“That’s because it’s a surprise. And I'm fairly certain we’ve had this particular conversation before, several times over, in fact.” He smirks at her look. “Oh, come on, what’s life without a bit of mystery, Detective?”
Chloe rolls her eyes, switching places with him on the couch. “Because we haven’t had enough mystery for all of eternity?” she says rhetorically. “Okay, Ella will be here in about an hour. I should be ready by then.”
“Take your time, there’s no rush,” he assures her, reaching over to rest his palm on Lucas’s belly. The baby immediately turns his head towards his father. “Reservation isn’t until seven.”
She gives him a wave of acknowledgement and disappears into the bedroom.
“You’re going to have fun with your Auntie Ella tonight, aren’t you, Gremlin?” Lucifer murmurs softly. The nickname he began using back when Chloe was pregnant has stuck. Lucifer now has his Detective, his Urchin, and his Gremlin.
It’s all still a bit surreal. The day over a year ago when he nearly lost Chloe before healing her and the fear that had followed, because she knew the truth of who and what he truly was, feels like yesterday. Those few days after, when he and Chloe became practically inseparable—until Cain abducted her. Lucifer has no idea how he got so lucky; Chloe’s reaction to him being the Devil could have gone in the completely opposite direction, and if it had, he wouldn’t have any of what he does now—a family. Happiness beyond measure. So much love he doesn’t know what to bloody well do with it all.
Everything comes down to Chloe. If she hadn’t been brave enough to face the unknown, to face the Devil...well, who knows where Lucifer might be right now. Chances are, he’d have gone back to Hell if their partnership had ended; remaining on Earth when Chloe wants nothing to do with him is its own form of torture he wouldn’t wish to endure. Even back then.
But as ever, his incredible Detective gave him a chance to tell his side of the story. And what’s more, she returned his declaration of love, which probably happened far sooner than either of them planned, but Lucifer has never been a conventional sort of Devil. Back then, only a year ago, he hadn’t known what he would do if he lost her; now he does: it would destroy him, utterly and completely.
Now, they’ve built a life together. A home, a family, a new son, and they’re getting married later in the year... Happy doesn’t even begin to describe how Lucifer feels about it all. And he gets to keep Chloe for eternity, now that she’s immortal, invulnerable, and has wings.
“Incredible,” he murmurs under his breath, smiling down at Lucas. “Bloody incredible.”
His phone buzzes with a text message, and he rolls his eyes, already knowing who it’s from. And sure enough...
Amenadiel 🥱
Today 5:15 PM
Just confirming, you’re still coming for dinner tomorrow night?
🙄👍
Thought you should have a heads-up: Dad invited Michael as well
👿😒😤😡😠
Yes, you’ve made your displeasure plain, Luci
All I ask is that you don’t level Linda’s house to the ground
Michael has assured us he will be on his best behavior
Perhaps you could do the same?
🤣🤣🤣🤣
Is that a yes?
🍶🍷🍸
Luci...
I don’t know who that is
But real mature Luci
Chuckling to himself and thinking that trolling his brother will never grow old, Lucifer tries not to imagine just how much worse the prospect of this dinner has become. Not only will he have to face his father for the first time in eons, his dickhead twin will be at the table as well. At least Chloe’s safety has been guaranteed; not even Michael would do something to ‘God’s MIracle’, and certainly not right in front of Him.
“I envy you, Gremlin,” Lucifer tells his son. In response, Lucas blows a spit bubble at his father. “At least you don’t have to attend this waking nightmare.”
Teivel’s head pops up as the faint sound of the elevator being called reaches his ears. Lucifer glances at the time—a bit early for Miss Lopez’s arrival, but perhaps she was eager. His stomach churns as he stares at the elevator, one hand on his son.
“Teivel, guard.”
The hound immediately hops off the couch and stalks to the elevator, posture at attention and completely on alert. If their visitor isn’t someone on Teivel’s friends list...well, Lucifer feels sorry for them. A minute later, he lets out a short sigh of relief at the sight of an enthusiastic Ella Lopez carrying a backpack and a canvas tote that looks to be full of baby toys—as if Lucas doesn’t have a thousand toys already...
Teivel instantly shifts to a friendly demeanor, greeting Miss Lopez eagerly, tail wagging madly.
“Hey, buddy, you’ve gotten big,” Miss Lopez comments, dropping the tote so she can properly greet the hound.
“Miss Lopez, you’re early,” Lucifer calls with a smile, his heart rate struggling to slow down. He isn’t certain what he expected—that his father would show up? It’s certainly something He would do: Ignore Lucifer’s demands to get what He wants.
Miss Lopez grins, sheepish. “Yeah, sorry, I was just so excited to see my little buddy. And you, too, Teivel. He is the sweetest dog I have ever met, Lucifer.”
Lucifer wonders if she would still think that if she’d seen the hound take down that Hell spider... “Well, you’re always welcome, of course. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Ah, no booze while I’m babysitting the little dude,” she answers regretfully.
“I do have other beverages on hand, Miss Lopez,” he says dryly. “The Detective isn’t currently drinking and the Urchin is still too young—apparently. Coffee? Tea? Water? I believe we have an assortment of juices and soft drinks, as well.”
Ella greets Lucas while Lucifer sorts out her drink, and the Devil watches with a smirk as his four-week-old son flirts with the forensic scientist. Well, they’re calling it flirting; Lucas’s eyes go wide and his mouth opens like he’s trying to say something, but can’t quite make the sounds yet. His hand reaches for the cross necklace dangling from her neck when it’s within reach.
Returning to the couch, Lucifer sets Ella’s drink on the table along with a list of instructions Chloe wrote out for the evening—emergency numbers, their phone numbers, where the breast milk is stored and Lucas’s feeding schedule; reminders of his favorite toys, including the duck pacifier he will not sleep without. It’s two pages, front and back, and both she and Lucifer still kept thinking of things to add.
Now that it’s approaching time to leave Lucas with somebody who isn’t his parents, Lucifer’s stomach is turning to knots. He trusts Ella Lopez—she’s become like a little sister to him—but this is his son, and all those protective fatherly instincts he read about during Chloe’s pregnancy are starting to rear up. During Lucas’s nap this afternoon, he reminded Chloe to load her gun with Hell-forged bullets in case Ella needs it tonight—though he desperately hopes that she won’t. He doesn’t anticipate any problems, but considering both his father and dickhead twin are currently on Earth...
Perhaps this outing isn’t the best idea, after all...
“Oh, hey, Ella, you’re early!”
Lucifer looks up and his brain disengages. Chloe is walking down the stairs in a dark blue dress that reaches her ankles. It’s floaty and sleeveless, and the neckline shows just enough to be enticing without being inappropriate. Not to mention the tantalizing slit in the left side showing off her long leg. And those bloody strappy, black heels... Suddenly, he has an image of those heels digging into his back as he plows into Chloe with everything he has—
“Lucifer?”
He blinks several times, realizing he must have missed some conversation between the ladies as he stared at his fiancée. Not that he particularly minds—staring at Chloe has been his favorite pastime from the moment he met her. “Hmm? Yes, apologies, were you saying something, Detective?” He has to clear his suddenly hoarse throat.
Chloe is smirking and Ella is giggling as she rocks Lucas. “I was asking if you gave Ella the list of instructions for tonight?” Chloe repeats, her voice full of laughter.
“Um, yes, I have it right here, darling,” he says quickly, trying to regain some of his dignity, while discreetly adjusting himself in his trousers. “As well as an allowance to order yourself some dinner, if you like, Miss Lopez.”
“Aww, thanks, buddy, that’s sweet of you.”
Lucifer smiles. “Yes, well, you’re doing us quite the favor, watching this little gremlin for a few hours.”
“Hey, you guys deserve a break. You’ve been through a lot lately, and it’s good for you to get some time alone together,” Ella says reasonably.
He doesn’t disagree—exactly... “Right, then. The Detective has warned you about the possibility of one of my siblings dropping by unannounced. He is extremely unwelcome. Teivel has his orders to rip him to shreds should he step foot into the penthouse, but failing him, Hell-forged bullets will do the trick.”
Ella frowns. “Yeah...about that. What’s the deal there?”
Lucifer hesitates. “It’s rather a long story. But the gist is that he and I do not get along, and for some reason, he’s shown interest in Chloe’s angelic ascension. Not to mention annoying me. I don’t believe he’ll give you any trouble; Lucas is not his focus. But I wouldn’t put it past him to cause mayhem just to make my life more difficult.”
“And which brother is this?”
More hesitation. “Michael,” he says reluctantly.
Ella’s jaw drops. “LIke, the archangel Michael? Wait, wasn’t he the one who—” She stops suddenly, glancing awkwardly at Lucifer. “Never mind.”
“The one who threw me out of Heaven? He was, indeed, and that is one of the many reasons I despise him,” Lucifer says dryly. “Don’t believe everything you’ve read, Miss Lopez; Saint Michael is the most manipulative, deceptive, fork-tongued being in the universe, and he is not to be trusted.”
Her eyes are wide as she processes this new information. “O-kay, that’s a massive switch in my headcanon. Just so I know, what does he look like?”
“Exactly like me, only far less dashing and charming. He also has raggedy, black wings. So, if an angel drops by claiming to be me, which I assure you he will not, demand to see his wings. Or ask for the security codeword.”
Chloe’s head tilts. “What security codeword?” she asks incredulously. “And why don’t I know it?”
Monkeybottoms, of course, he prays with a smirk.
Chloe rolls her eyes so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t sprain something. “Seriously?”
“What? What did I miss?” Lucifer leans over and whispers the word in Ella’s ear. She cackles. “Nice.”
Chloe throws her hands up in defeat. “I’m surrounded by children,” she mutters under her breath. But Lucifer can see the smile she’s trying to hide. “Ella, I’ll show you where the gun safe is.”
Ella shifts Lucas into Lucifer’s arms and follows Chloe to the bar, where they’ve installed a new safe—for Chloe’s service weapon, the Hell-forged bullets, and her sword and demon knife. Which, of course, Ella sees and is amazed by.
“Oh, wow, that is beautiful craftsmanship! Where did you even get this?” she says amazed as she examines the sword.
“Hell,” Lucifer answers promptly, joining them at the bar and lightly bouncing Lucas. He was smart enough to grab one of the burp rags to throw over his shoulder to protect his suit; he learned that lesson two weeks ago. “The blade is one of my primary flight feathers encased in Hell-forged steel; the hilt is a piece of basalt from my throne.”
Ella’s jaw drops. “Wow. Again. You made this, Lucifer?”
“Well, I came up with the concept and the design, but Mazikeen is much more skilled on the forges than I am. Far too hot near the Lake for my liking.” And...bad memories. “I did do the detail work, though.”
Chloe looks at him in surprise. “You did? You didn’t tell me that.”
“Wait, Chloe, do you actually know how to use a sword?”
She nods. “I took lessons with Maze. She did not go easy on me,” she answers wryly. “But she’s a surprisingly patient teacher; she started teaching Trixie self-defense when we were roommates.”
“That’s amazing. I’ve always wanted to learn how to fight with a sword,” Ella says longingly, sliding the short sword back into the sheath. “Anyway, you two have a date to go on. I promise I will take care of your little guy while you’re gone.”
Apprehension flickers through Chloe’s eyes as she glances at Lucas. Lucifer is relieved that he isn’t the only one being protective. “Right. And you promise to call us if absolutely anything happens? We can be here in seconds,” she says anxiously. “And the emergency numbers are at the top of the instructions. Lucas loves music, and he won’t go to sleep without being sung to, since somebody has spoiled him.” She sends Lucifer a playfully accusatory look.
“What? It isn’t my fault my dominant, musically-inclined genetics were passed on to our offspring, Detective,” Lucifer says smoothly. “If anything, it’s a relief, given your tastes in music.”
“There is nothing wrong with my tastes in music, Lucifer. You’re just a snob,” Chloe argues defensively.
“I prefer to call it refinement,” Lucifer sniffs primly.
Chloe rolls her eyes. Lucifer smirks in triumph—Morningstar 1; Decker 0. “Whatever. Okay, hand over my baby, let me say good night.” She makes grabby hands towards Lucas. Once she has him in her arms, Chloe presses a kiss to his forehead. “Be good for Auntie Ella, baby boy,” she murmurs. Lucas blinks up at her lazily. “I love you so much, and we’ll be back before you know we’re gone.”
Lucifer’s own apprehension grows as Chloe passes Lucas back to him so he can say good night as well. “We’ll always come back for you, Gremlin,” he murmurs into his son’s hair—and trying to banish the irrational fear that Lucas will think he’s been abandoned. “It’s only for a few hours. Daddy loves you.” He kisses his son’s head, inhaling that unique baby scent humans are always gushing about.
Ella comes around the bar. “You are so adorable with him, Lucifer. I never would have been able to imagine you with a baby before this.”
The Detective snorts a laugh. “He would have run the other direction a year ago.”
Much as Lucifer would love to deny it...well. Neither of them is wrong. “Yes, well, this one is mine.” When Ella reaches out to take Lucas for him, Lucifer instinctively backs away. The two women look at him. “Right...” He looks down at his son, suddenly sincerely debating calling this whole thing off.
“Lucifer,” Chloe says softly. “He’ll be okay with Ella, I promise.”
“Yeah, I’d never let anything happen to him, buddy, you have my word,” Ella says earnestly.
Still Lucifer hesitates, his arms holding his son protectively against his shoulder.
Lucifer. He looks over at Chloe when she prays to him. It’s okay. It’s not forever; we’re coming right back.
He finally voices his fear. But what if he thinks we’ve abandoned him?
The look on Chloe’s face is pure compassion. He won’t think that.
Perhaps it’s too soon to leave him alone.
Chloe watches him for a few moments. Do you want to cancel tonight? I won’t be upset.
He seriously considers it, looking between his fledgling son and his Detective, all dressed up to celebrate their anniversary. He knows she’s been looking forward to this—as has he—and despite her saying she wouldn’t be upset, she would be disappointed if he cancels on her. And he never wants to disappoint her. A sigh of defeat leaves his lips, and with a considerable amount of reluctance, he hands his son over to Ella.
“Don’t forget, he favors the duck binky. And his favorite song currently is ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’.”
Ella looks at him like he’s just said the cutest thing ever in the entire universe. “I promise I won’t forget.”
Nodding, he brushes the backs of his fingers over Lucas’s chubby little cheek one last time, then looks to his Detective. “Shall we, darling?” he asks, forcing a light tone.
Chloe smiles understandingly. “We shall,” she says, mimicking his accent again—badly. “You two have fun,” she adds to Ella and Lucas. “Don’t hesitate to call or text if you need anything, or have questions. Either one of us is fine.”
“Totally got this under control, Decker. You two crazy kids go have some fun.”
Chloe takes Lucifer’s arm with a forced smile of her own, and he leads her into the elevator. Neither of them take their eyes off of Lucas until the doors are closed.
Notes:
Since next Thursday is Thanksgiving in the States, I'll be posting next week's Eternal Angels update a day early (on Wednesday).
Also, if anyone's leaving Twitter for BlueSky and hasn't added me yet, you can find me under WordRunner. Follow me for chapter sneak peaks, update announcements, and other good stuff!
Chapter 14: One Incredible Year
Notes:
There be smut in this chapter. I mean, come on, it's their anniversary. Of course there's smut... 😈😏 The rest is so sickly sweet you might want to consult a dentist afterwards.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Separation anxiety is one of the worst things Chloe has ever felt as a parent. She experienced it with Trixie as a baby, and she’s doing so again after leaving Lucas with Ella. Lucifer seems to be taking it far worse, though; his teeth were grinding all the way to the parking garage, fingers twitching at his side as if he was considering hitting the elevator button to take them back to the penthouse. Then he hesitated opening the passenger door to the Corvette for her until she assured him again that Lucas is going to be perfectly fine, and nothing will happen to him. And he will not think he’s been abandoned.
She understands his apprehension; after all, he was rejected and abandoned by his entire family for billions of years—in Hell. But Ella had a point: Chloe and Lucifer have been through a lot this last year, and while the good greatly outweighs the bad, they haven’t found much time for just them outside the penthouse since the New Year’s Eve party at Lux, months ago.
It would be different if they were staying away overnight. Chloe and Dan didn’t leave Trixie with anybody overnight until she was four months old, but they did allow their parents to babysit for a few hours so they could get some rest or go out for dinner when she was right around Lucas’s age—exactly the way Chloe and Lucifer are doing now. And Trixie didn’t experience any adverse effects because of those few hours. Penelope said she cried for a few minutes, but once she was soothed, everything was fine; she was back to being a happy baby. Lucas will be fine, too.
Once they got a few blocks away from Lux, Lucifer began to relax. He reached over for Chloe’s hand and kissed her knuckles, just above her engagement ring—which finally fits her finger again. She even got a smile out of him when she told him how handsome he looks, and a well, of course I do, Detective; I’m me.
“I haven’t said yet,” he says quietly as they pull into the valet at Providence, one of the most exclusive restaurants in Los Angeles. Lucifer told her reservations are usually booked out months in advance, but that means absolutely nothing when your name is Lucifer Morningstar—he was able to get them a table one week in advance. Chloe wonders if she will ever get used to how much influence he has pretty much everywhere he goes; she thinks the answer is nope, not ever. “You look positively radiant, Chloe. That dress... Mmm...” The low, sinful-bordering-on-dirty sound he makes goes straight between her thighs.
“Thank you, Lucifer,” she says. She still blushes sometimes at his compliments; she can’t help it. Nobody has ever looked at her the way he does, and she loves it. Loves him. “I’m really glad we’re doing this.”
He nods, conflict in his eyes, but he smiles. “Yes, I am, too. I know I seemed...recalcitrant back at the penthouse, but...well.”
She shakes her head. “Believe me, I get it. It’s never easy leaving your child, especially when they’re so young. But you know, Ella was right. We’ve been through so much, Lucifer; we both need an evening that’s just us to unwind and relax, to spend time together. Lucas is our priority, of course he is, but we also need to take care of ourselves. Burnout is so easy to get when you’re dealing with a newborn, especially, and it never ends well. It happened to me and Dan: When Trixie was born, all of our focus was on her and her needs, and we weren’t thinking of ourselves at all. Dan got burned out a little and it turned into this huge fight between us. I don’t want that for you and me. So let’s just take a few hours, have a good meal and some wine and spend some time together. Just us.”
Finally, he starts to relax. “That...sounds delightful, actually. And yes, I quite agree about this ‘burnout’ of which you speak—that sounds downright dreadful. And of course, the Douche would take it out on you.”
“It wasn’t one-sided,” she says dryly.
Conversation is paused as the valet waves Lucifer forward and takes the Corvette keys. Lucifer jogs around to open Chloe’s door, holding out his hand to help her out of the low seat. And once she’s on her feet, and he leans in to kiss her, she sees nothing but excitement and love brimming in his eyes at the prospect of their evening.
Naturally, lines are far too plebeian for the Devil; they walk right up to the hostess whose expression goes from skeptical and snobby to entranced the moment she sets eyes on Lucifer. She stutters out a question of whether they have a reservation and Lucifer charms her, giving his name, with that smile that could melt a nun’s panties. Too used to the entire exchange to do anything but roll her eyes in amused exasperation, Chloe follows Lucifer and the blushing hostess to the best table in the restaurant, already set with a bottle of chilled wine and what looks to be caviar and a basket of fresh bread.
And in front of one place setting is a bouquet of the most beautiful red lilies and sunflowers she’s ever seen—the same flowers Lucifer brought her on their first date. “Lucifer,” Chloe breathes, reaching for them. “They’re beautiful.”
“Only the best for you, my love.” Lucifer pulls out her chair for her then takes his seat across from her. “I think you’ll quite enjoy the menu here, Detective. It isn’t strictly seafood, the wagyu is excellent. Unfortunately, the chef’s name is Michael, but he’s quite lovely.”
“And I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you did him a favor?” she teases lightly, setting her flowers aside. Either that, or Lucifer slept with him. Then again, she can’t see him sleeping with anybody named Michael.
“As a matter of fact, I did. He was having difficulty finding a sous-chef talented enough for this restaurant, and I happened to know of one looking for employment,” he says smoothly. “Silvano has been working here ever since.”
A server appears at Lucifer’s elbow to welcome them and pour wine for them to sample—Lucifer looks to Chloe for her approval. It’s quite good, and the first alcohol she’s had since finding out she was pregnant. They didn’t know if her celestial metabolism would burn it off quickly enough to not affect Lucas, so Chloe simply stopped drinking altogether—the risk wasn’t worth it. Lucifer offered to quit drinking in solidarity, but Chloe couldn’t imagine him without his whiskey, and it’s not as though he gets drunk.
“It’s really good,” she says appreciatively. Lucifer nods his agreement and two glasses are poured. They’re informed that the first course will be out shortly and are left alone again.
Lucifer holds his wine glass towards her, that soft smile reserved only for her on his lips. “To us, Chloe,” he says just as softly, his dazzling eyes full of love, all for her. “It’s been quite the rollercoaster of a year for us, but put simply, the best of my exceptionally long life.” He swallows, emotion filling his voice. “I truly do not know what I would do without you, Detective. You, Lucas, and Trixie—you’re the best things to ever happen to me. And you’ve made the last year unbelievably incredible for a Devil who has been alone for...so very long.” He huffs. “There are no words to express my gratitude. Or my love. But I look forward to many, many more years of being yours. Happy anniversary, my love.”
Chloe bites her lip to keep it from trembling at his words, her eyes burning. “Happy anniversary, Lucifer. And I could not agree more—to everything you said. I just want to add...I am so glad that I found you. I know the circumstances of when we met weren’t ideal, but it brought me to the best partner I could ever ask for—at work and in life. You’re an amazing man, my best friend in the world, and an incredible father—I’m so proud of you, Lucifer.”
His eyes turn suspiciously glassy and he doesn’t bother to hide how her words have touched him. “You think I’m a good father?” he asks, his voice quiet and vulnerable.
Smiling, she reaches across the table for his hand, lacing their fingers. “I believe I said incredible,” she corrects him tenderly. “And yes, I do. You stumble, but you don’t let yourself fall; you learn and you grow. And you are...phenomenal with Lucas—and Trixie, too. So, thank you, for being such an amazing father to my babies. I can’t even tell you what it means to me.”
He bites his lip, eyelashes wet. “Nor I you, Chloe,” he says, his voice breaking on her name. “You’re a magnificent mother; I’ve thought so since you praised the Urchin for sticking up for herself to that bully.” Chloe laughs softly. He smiles. “You’ve taught me so much, and I know you sometimes think I’m not listening...but I always hear you, darling. No matter what.”
She doesn’t know what to say to that. Her instinct tells her to dive over the table and kiss the stuffing out of him, but...they’re in a fancy-schmancy restaurant. “I love you,” she says instead.
Lifting her hand to his lips, he presses his lips to her knuckles. “And I, you,” he murmurs into her skin, his warm breath sending tingles through her body. “More than I can express with words.”
Dinner is amazing. The food is delicious, as promised. But the company is even better. Lucifer is in top form, making her laugh, flirting, telling stories from his past that are either fascinating or make her roll her eyes—sometimes both. They talk about everything from their last year together, to Lucas and Trixie, to their friends, to their upcoming wedding—Lucifer seems to have plans for their honeymoon. Chloe agrees to let him plan it on the condition they aren’t gone for too long—Lucas will only be six months old—and that they go someplace that doesn’t only involve staying in and having sex the entire time.
“If you could travel anywhere in the world, Detective, where would it be?”
She tilts her head and chews the bite of duck she’s just taken. “Hmm... I’ve always wanted to travel to Europe. I know that’s kind of a broad answer, but specifically...Italy, I think. The history, the food, the culture...”
He nods. “Italy is one of my favorite places to visit. Tuscany, especially. I actually have a villa there that you would absolutely love.”
Chloe smiles fondly. “Of course you do.”
“Darling, I own properties everywhere that is worth owning property. Name a popular destination, and it’s likely I own something of note there,” he says dismissively. “Paris, London, Tokyo, Sydney... I own castles in Scotland and Austria, even.”
Chloe chokes on her wine. “I’m sorry,” she coughs, waving off his concern. “You own castles?”
“Well, that was the style of residence in the 11th century, darling. And I’ve been coming to Earth since far earlier than that. You really ought to have a look at my complete portfolio one of these days.”
She isn’t sure she could get through that without going into full-on mindmelt. “Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to your...Luciferness, at least when it comes to wealth and what you own.”
He tilts his head curiously. “Does it bother you? That I’m wealthy.”
She hesitates. “I wouldn’t say that it bothers me,” she answers carefully. “I mean, I didn’t exactly grow up destitute with my mom’s acting career. I guess it’s just not something I ever considered for myself; it never mattered to me—status and wealth and influence. My family is what makes me rich—you and the kids. And I’m perfectly happy with that—more than happy. I just...never needed all the trimmings.”
He gives her a disbelieving smile, shaking his head a little. “You really are...truly good, Chloe Decker. What on Earth are you doing with somebody like me?” He gives a little self-deprecating laugh.
“You mean, somebody kind and generous? Somebody with the biggest heart I’ve ever known? Who’s so funny, he makes me laugh when I’m standing over a mangled corpse at a crime scene? Or who knows exactly what I need when I need it, because he’s paid attention to the smallest details not even Dan, in the eleven years I’ve known him, has picked up on? Lucifer, you care so much about the people in your life—not just me and the kids, but Linda, Ella, Maze, Charlotte...even Dan and Amenadiel. I know you don’t like this word, but you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever known.
“And look, I’m not saying you’re perfect—we all have our flaws. But you try to be better every single day. You learn and you grow, like I said earlier about Lucas—you do that with everything, even work. I mean, you paid for your maid’s son to go to Stanford on a full ride. And I know it’s not the first time; I remember what you did for Emmet Toussant. You never brag about it, either; you just...do it, because you care.
“And for the record,” she adds, leaning a little over the table to better see his stunned face, “you deserve every good thing that happens to you, Lucifer Morningstar; you deserve everything good in the universe. Because you’re worthy of it. And you’re worthy of me, and Lucas and Trixie. And I will choose you every minute of every single day, for the rest of eternity.”
A tear slips out of his eye, and the next thing she knows, he’s standing and leaning over the table, cradling her face in his hands like she’s the most precious commodity in the world—and kisses her with so much passion her heart skips a beat. It doesn’t matter that they’re in a fancy-schmancy restaurant or that there are people all around probably staring at the overt display; she kisses him back with equal fervor, her hands gripping his lapels.
Follow me.
He pulls away suddenly, taking her hand and tugging her to her feet. And she’s too dazed from his kiss to wonder where they’re going—she’d follow him anywhere...
...even to the bathrooms of a fancy-schmancy restaurant. “Um, where are we going?” she asks dumbly.
He doesn’t answer, clearly a man on a mission. They arrive at the door of the women’s restroom and he puts his ear to it, listening closely for a moment, then a satisfied smirk appears on his face. “Lovely,” he says under his breath, opening the door and pulling Chloe inside with him.
“Lucifer, what are y—mmm...”
Lucifer crashes his lips to hers, pushing her backwards with one hand on her hip, the other closing the door behind her, then she’s pressed up against it. And then he’s pressed up against her. His hand protects the back of her head as he kisses her ravenously with everything in his arsenal—teeth, tongue, and lips. With all the considerable skill he possesses. All she can do is kiss him back as he crowds into her, surrounding her, his scent filling her nostrils—so heady, she’s dizzy with it. When she moans into his mouth, he growls, grinding his hips into hers—and she feels him.
“Lucifer...” she gasps when he tears his lips away to travel across her cheek then down her neck. She has just enough rationality in her to point out the obvious. “We’re in a public bathroom.”
He purrs into her skin, nipping at her pulse point and sending shockwaves through her body. “Yes, very astute observation, Detective,” he breathes against her neck. “No wonder they pay you the big bucks.”
She shakes her head, trying to clear it enough to be the responsible adult in the situation. It’s extremely difficult when Lucifer’s hand is sliding up the slit of her dress, moving determinedly towards a very specific part of her anatomy.
“We can’t do this here,” she says, trying to sound firm. And failing miserably. It doesn’t help anything when he grazes his teeth along that spot behind her ear that makes her whimper.
Reaching behind her, Lucifer fiddles around with something for a moment, then she hears a dull click—he just locked the door. “We absolutely can, darling,” he says in that tone dripping with sin that reminds her, he’s the actual Devil. And this is what he sounds like when he’s tempting somebody. “Nobody will come through that door. It’s only us in here.”
Although she’s fairly sure there is a list of reasons why this is a capital-B Bad Idea, she can’t think of a single one at the moment. Not now that he’s found the edge of her lacy panties—the ones she put on with him in mind.
“Hmm... What's this, darling? Did you wear these for me?”
“Who else would I wear them for?” she breathes, head tilted back as he does sinful things to her collarbone with his tongue. “But what if someone catches us?”
“That’s what makes it exciting,” he says. In an excited tone. He pulls away from her neck to meet her gaze. “Nobody will catch us, Chloe. But if they do, believe me, darling, I’ve been in far worse jams than a shag in a public loo.”
There is absolutely no doubt in her mind that he’s telling the unequivocal truth. And honestly, it wouldn’t be her first time having sex in a bathroom at a fancy restaurant, either. Granted, the last time was when she was twenty-five—with Dan on their fifth or sixth date, and neither of them could wait until they got home. It was the last time Dan ever suggested anything so adventurous; not because it went badly, but because he wasn’t really the adventurous type.
Lucifer’s eyebrows furrow as he studies her face. “Chloe, if you’re truly uncomfortable with this, we don’t have—” His words are cut off when she kisses him again, hard, curling her hands around his head and nipping at his bottom lip. He groans and returns the kiss hungrily. “Is that a yes?” he breathes into her mouth.
She nods quickly. “Yes,” she whispers against his lips.
His eyes flash with joy and excitement, and not a little pride. Then he’s kissing her ardently, hands sliding up her sides to cup her breasts, thumbs flicking her nipples. She arches into him, groaning—her breasts still sensitive from nursing Lucas. But it feels too good to stop.
“I want you, Lucifer.”
Her lips find his neck this time, all the sensitive spots she’s learned he has. In fact, he didn’t even know they were sensitive spots until her, invulnerable with others as he had been. Her fingers are in his hair, tugging for a few moments before she’s moving down his chest. She knows this has to be quick.
And he’s already got his hands beneath her dress at her panties. She expects him to slip them off her; but no, her impatient Devil isn’t even waiting that long. He rips them right off her, showing her the shredded lace briefly before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply. “Fuck...” he hisses, shoving what’s left of her panties into his pocket. His lips find her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “How long have you wanted me tonight, Chloe? Hmm? Since we arrived? Since the second course of our meal?”
“Wanted you when I came down the bedroom stairs and saw you on the couch with Ella and Lucas. For the last month. Always want you,” she answers fervently, fingers seeking his belt.
Rather than batting her hands away, he helps her with the buckle, then one of his hands is beneath her dress again, finding her wet center. Chloe presses her mouth to his shoulder to muffle her cry; she hasn’t felt his fingers on her since before giving birth.
Oh, she’s missed him...
“Lucifer,” she gasps.
“I’ve got you,” he promises, rubbing circles on her clit, then sliding to her entrance, nudging her feet apart with one of his own for better access. “You feel amazing... Chloe...” He slips one, then two fingers inside her, pumping them fast as he kisses her again, his tongue matching the movements of his hand.
One of her hands holds onto his shoulder, her nails digging in hard enough to pop threads in his jacket, the other in his hair. Her lips are on his neck, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along his skin. The stubble of his beard is scratchy yet soft—and she really wants to feel it between her thighs, but they probably haven’t got time for that. Later, then...
With his fingers inside her, his thumb continues those circles on her clit, bringing her to an unexpected, crashing orgasm. His free hand is cradling her head to his shoulder, helping her muffle the desperate sounds she makes.
And he’s groaning right along with her—her pleasure is always his pleasure. “Incredible,” he whispers, helping her through it, then down. Kissing her as he pulls his fingers from her, then stuffs them into his own mouth and licks them clean. She watches open-mouthed; once he’s removed his fingers, she kisses him again, tasting herself on his tongue. She moans with need.
When she can operate her hands again, they find the button of his trousers—and his cock. Then it’s his turn to moan and drop his head to her shoulder. He thrusts into her palm as she strokes him through the expensive material, one hand on the back of her thigh, the other in her hair.
“Chloe...I need you.” He pulls back to look at her, and she gasps—he looks wrecked, eyes blown black with lust and desire; face and neck flushed pink; hair sticking up in all directions from her fingers. “Please...”
“Yes,” she pants, fingers shaking too much with eagerness to get his trousers unbuttoned. He knocks her hands away and simply unzips them, then reaches for her hand again, pulling it towards him.
“Touch me,” he commands—that low, King of Hell voice that she loves to hear.
She can do nothing but obey, wrapping her fingers around hot flesh and gently pulling him through the gap in material, though she only gets a few strokes in before his impatience takes over and he’s hiking her dress above her hips. Wrapping his hands around her thighs, he lifts her easily, and she curls her legs around his waist. He kisses her roughly, fingers gripping her hair tightly.
A moment later, he reaches between them, guiding himself to her entrance, and in one smooth, hard stroke, he’s buried inside her for the first time in a month. They both moan too loudly, but it can’t be helped; they missed this—this connection they share that neither of them can get enough of.
“Lucifer,” she whines, digging her heels into the small of his back.
He nods against her shoulder, taking a moment to gather himself. Then he lifts his head, pressing their foreheads together. And he starts to move. A few gentle strokes to ensure he doesn’t hurt her, then, when she begins moving with him, countering his thrusts, he growls against her lips and picks up the pace.
It’s fast, and dirty, and so freaking hot. And unbelievably good. He holds her in place and pounds into her, grunting and groaning and whining her name. All she can do is hang on for the ride, one hand in his hair, the other on his shoulder, as he fucks her into one of the best orgasms she’s ever had. It feels as if he's everywhere—hands, mouth, cock—and she can't get enough. Will never get enough.
“Close,” she gasps against his ear. “Lucifer, I’m close.”
He nods frantically that he is, too, one hand sliding between them, his fingers unerringly finding her clit to help her along. She muffles her cries as best she can against his hair as she shudders and comes around him, her muscles contracting, convulsing uncontrollably. He curses into her shoulder, whimpering, and his thrusts falter. A few deep, hard thrusts later, he buries himself inside her and empties everything he has into her, a strangled sound that definitely isn’t human leaving his throat.
“Chloe...” he moans, holding her close.
Chloe strokes his hair as he shudders and comes down. Finally, he lifts his head lazily, his eyes cloudy and dazed, but satisfaction and love shine through. He kisses her slow and sweet, a contradiction of what they’ve just done together, but she loves every second of it.
Carefully, he sets her back on her feet, hands on her waist to help keep her upright on wobbly legs. They meet each other’s gazes, and suddenly, they’re laughing, giggling like lovestruck idiots.
“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” she says breathlessly as he tucks himself back into his trousers.
He’s grinning like the cat who ate the whole damn canary, feathers hanging out of his mouth. “You loved it, my little exhibitionist.” He kisses her again. “And I love you.” His voice goes from amused and mischievous to earnest and reverent. “So very much.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers, straightening his jacket, then her dress. “And now we have to go back out there and finish our dinner.”
He snorts a laugh. “Don’t worry about that. The secret is acting with confidence. Like you own the place. Nobody will say a single word to you. And if they do...well. You do have the Devil at your side.”
She purses her lips against a ridiculous smile. “I just had him at my front, too.”
He throws his head back and laughs.
After righting their hair and clothes, Chloe and Lucifer return to their table to finish their meal as if they didn’t just have sex in a public bathroom. Over dessert, Lucifer reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small, wrapped gift.
“I have something for you, Detective,” he says, holding the flat package out to her. “It isn’t much, but...well. See for yourself.”
She smiles at him, but rather than take the gift, she reaches into her bag for one of her own to pass him. “Great minds think alike,” she teases. “Thank you, Lucifer.”
He hadn’t expected her to give him anything, but really, he probably should have known better. “You first, love,” he insists.
He’d spent all week racking his brain for what to give her—jewelry of some sort was his first instinct, but Chloe doesn’t really wear much beyond a few meaningful pieces. Tonight, she’s wearing her bullet necklace that also has the baby feet pendant he’d given her for Christmas, now with Lucas’s name and birthstone on it; the tennis bracelet and earrings he also gave her at Christmas; and her engagement ring. He knew he wanted to give her something meaningful that symbolized them, just the two of them, and this amazing partnership they’ve built; beyond that, though, he came up empty.
Until he found this. He hadn’t even known it existed until Patrick gave it to him the other day, mentioning that he’d found it a few months ago and forgot to give it to them. Lucifer spent close to half an hour staring at it, entranced, before finding something to put it in and wrapping it up for Chloe.
She removes the wrapping paper and stares, her lips parting, just as surprised as he had been. It’s a simple picture frame, but in it, is a photo taken quite early in their partnership, within the first three months or so, he guesses. He doesn’t even remember the circumstances surrounding it—one of Chloe’s many visits to Lux to pick him up for a case, or to celebrate the closing of a case.
They’re sitting together in one of the booths, leaning close as though they’re trying to be heard over the music. Lucifer’s arm is stretched out along the back, his hand curled near Chloe’s shoulder, but not quite touching her. Both of them are smiling, gazes locked, and even back then, it must have been obvious to whomever took this photo how the subjects felt about one another. Lucifer is looking at her like he can’t quite believe she exists, let alone that she’s giving him the time of day, and Chloe is looking back with affection and fondness she tried so hard to lock away and hide, from the both of them. For all that they’re paying attention to what’s around them, it could be just the two of them in the entire universe.
“Where did you get this?” she asks, amazed.
“Patrick found it. I’m not sure who took it, or why, but it was in a drawer in one of the back offices,” he explains softly. “I quite like it. Very us.”
She nods, still enraptured. “It is.” Then she nods at the gift in his hand, her eyes alight with excitement. “Your turn.”
Grinning eagerly, he opens his gift and a lump instantly forms in his throat, choking him. “Chloe...” She’d been thinking on a similar wavelength.
“Linda gave it to me. Apparently, she took it that night and thought we would like to have it.”
But Lucifer barely hears her; he’s far too busy staring at a photo of the two of them the night of the Lux sit-in when they danced to Should I Stay or Should I Go? It was the first time they ever danced together, and Lucifer would have been happy to keep her in his arms that whole night, if she had let him. He still remembers clearly the feeling of disappointment and betrayal when she’d arrived with the police officers to break up his party—what he had thought would be his last party at Lux. Then how she’d leaned in and told him to “turn the music back on, this place is dead”. And how she’s always been on his side. How, the next day, she’d shown up just as he had given up on saving Lux and revealed that she called in a favor of her own, without him even asking, to have Lux named a heritage site, and thus saving his home. And his later realization that it wasn’t Lux or L.A., or even Earth in general that had become his home—it was her.
Linda took this photo at exactly the perfect moment, capturing the joy on their faces, and the burgeoning love in their eyes, as they pulled away from their dance to look at each other. Lucifer is still holding one of Chloe’s hands in his own; her hand is still on his shoulder. Even now, he can hear their laughter as he swung her around the dance floor.
“Remind me to give that woman a raise,” he murmurs to cover his choked voice.
“That was a fun night,” Chloe says, smiling.
He huffs his agreement. “That it was. Even though you promptly got right back to work afterwards.”
“We were in the middle of a high-profile case, Lucifer,” she says defensively.
He waves that off as though it has no bearing on what he’s saying. “It’s rather obvious how we felt about each other, even back then, isn’t it?” He gestures between the two photos. “Perhaps if somebody had shown us these...”
Chloe snorts into her wine. “We still would have been in denial. I mean, I was starting to get there, I think. But I never would have imagined then that we’d be where we are now. In love, engaged, with a newborn... All the celestial stuff aside, I wouldn’t have seen this coming. And please, don’t ruin it,” she adds hastily when he opens his mouth to make a joke about how he’d just seen her coming in the bathroom. He smirks at her. “I liked you, a lot, but I wasn’t sure you’d ever want to give up the playboy lifestyle to live a boring, domestic life with me. And I wasn’t ready to take the risk that you’d break my heart.”
“Yes, well...I liked you, as well, quite more than a lot, Detective. I simply didn’t realize just how much. Nothing about you made any sense to me, least of all what I felt for you, and the life I knew... At least, that was safe. You weren't the only one afraid of having their heart broken. I knew you were special—I knew that the moment I met you—I just never realized...” He shakes his head.
He never realized a lot of things, not until he nearly lost her for good, and came to the biggest realization and admission he’d ever made to that point: that he loved her, and had loved her right from the beginning. “I was scared, Chloe. Of so many things, but mostly because I knew if I admitted how I felt about you, it would also mean admitting the truth of who I am—that I’m the Devil—because I never would have been able to begin something with you, of all people, without you knowing the truth. It would have felt too much like a lie—and I don’t do that, as you well know, especially not with you. All the others... It never mattered if they knew who I was; I’d only ever spend one night with them and then never see them again. But I think some part of me always knew that I could never just have you for one night and be satisfied; it would be all or nothing. And like the coward I was, I chose nothing, because it was the safest choice for myself.”
She shakes her head, reaching for his hand. “You had your reasons, Lucifer, and I get it. And I don’t blame you for it—for any of it. We’re here now, that’s what matters.”
He nods. “Agreed.” Clearing his throat to avoid turning into a blubbering mess in the middle of Providence, he glances down at the photo again, smiling, brushing his thumb along the frozen image of her huge, ecstatic smile. “Right, then. Shall we? I thought we’d go for a late evening stroll along the beach before heading home.”
“That sounds perfect,” she agrees softly, lifting his hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles.
On the way to the beach, Chloe texts to check-in again with Ella, as she has been throughout dinner. So far, Ella has sent a dozen or so selfies of herself and Lucas curled up on the couch or in his nursery with an assurance that all is good and no rogue angels have shown up. Lucas went down to sleep about half an hour ago in his crib and without incident. There was a minor tantrum when he realized it wasn’t Lucifer’s voice singing him to sleep, but he calmed quickly and is sleeping like a baby angel.
The night has been perfect so far—both dinner and their illicit tryst in the women’s bathroom, which Chloe, once she got over her embarrassment, doesn’t regret in the slightest. She thought they’d wait until they got home to start ripping off each other’s clothes, but maybe she should have known better. It’s been over a month since they last had sex, and they were both suffering from withdrawal.
She still can’t quite get over the photo Lucifer gave her, from early in their partnership. Back then, while she did like him, she was still quite firmly set that it could only be friendship between them—or so she thought; the look in her eyes in the photo says something entirely different. Lucifer has always looked at her differently from anybody else, but she didn’t start picking up on his longing glances until some time after Malcolm. Yet, it’s present here, clear as day. It would have been far too soon, for either of them, she thinks. She was still (technically) married to Dan, and Lucifer, so it seemed at the time, was her exact opposite and more trouble than he was worth.
How wrong she was on both counts.
While they do have many differences between them, they have far more similarities than either of them realized, even at the beginning of their romantic relationship. They share a love of justice and fairness that Chloe hasn’t found with anybody else, for one. And for another, they both have overly judgmental, controlling parents who were determined to decide how their lives played out—Chloe with Penelope and her acting career; Lucifer with God and his ‘purpose’, then with Hell. It might be on vastly different levels, but the bare bones of how they were raised only made each of them determined to live their own lives how they decide to live. And neither of them has their parent’s approval of those life choices.
Just thinking about it, Chloe is not looking forward to family dinner tomorrow night, if for no other reason than whatever happens, Lucifer is going to be a wreck afterwards. Even if only because he’s facing his father for the first time in billions of years.
Maybe it should worry her, God and the Devil in the same room, but when it comes down to it, they’re a disapproving, abusive, neglectful father, and a son who, though he would never admit it, maybe not even to Chloe, just wants his father’s love and acceptance.
Put in those terms, it’s such a common theme Chloe has seen play out a hundred times in her career, and it’s heartbreaking every time. The love and acceptance just isn’t there, and if it is, it’s nearly impossible to achieve without the child giving up the essence of what makes them them.
The thing about Lucifer is, he doesn’t lie—except to himself. He can say all day long that he despises his dad, that he doesn’t need nor want Him in his life, and that he certainly doesn’t desire His love, acceptance, or forgiveness. But it’s what he’s told himself over the eons in order to survive. He’s convinced himself none of that stuff matters to him, but Chloe knows him well enough to know that deep down, of course he does. Every child wants (and deserves) those things from their parents, and it isn’t something that can be changed. Lucifer has more reason than anybody in the history of the universe to hate his father, and on some level maybe he does, but there’s a deeper part of him that does still love his father, however miniscule it might be at this point.
Not that God deserves it. At all.
She sees it in how he is with Lucas; how careful he is, how he looks at his son, and how afraid he is of doing the wrong thing that will ruin Lucas for life. Lucifer has taken all of his life experience and flipped it on its head to help him become a better father than his own could ever dream of being. Because his love and acceptance are unconditional, and because he looks at Lucas as a son, not a soldier or a tool to be used. It’s one of the hundreds of reasons Chloe is so certain Lucifer is going to be an incredible father as Lucas grows older. And she cannot wait to see it.
Their walk on the beach is mostly silent, Chloe’s arms hugging one of Lucifer’s. She shivered slightly as they were walking down towards the water and before she could even blink, he was whipping off his suit jacket to drape over her. Looking up at him now as they stop at the edge of the tide, his gaze is aimed high in the darkened sky.
“What are you thinking?” she asks him softly.
His eyebrows dip briefly. “Nothing specific,” he says unconvincingly. “Shame we can’t see the stars tonight.”
Somehow, she doubts that’s what’s on his mind, but she doesn’t push. “Well, it is L.A.,” she reminds him gently. “All the smog and light pollution kind of interfere.”
“That they do,” he murmurs. “One of these days, I’ll take you out to Joshua Tree; did you know that’s one of the best places in the world to view the night sky?”
She did. Her dad used to take her camping there. “What are the others?” she asks curiously.
“The absolute best is one of the Poles—North or South, doesn’t matter which. That’s where you’ll see the most visible stars. As often as I could, that’s where I would return to Earth from Hell; there’s actually a spot at the North Pole where the barrier between Earth and Hell is thinnest, and there’s a portal in Hell to cross over. Demons can’t take advantage, thanks to several of my own devised precautions, so you needn’t worry about that,” he adds at her likely startled expression. “And it’s far too cold for them to even be tempted; I’m not even certain they could survive in such extreme, frigid conditions. But anyhow, I stopped popping up there when Amenadiel worked out the pattern and started keeping an eye on the barrier.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Lucifer Morningstar, predictable?”
He chuckles. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Though it probably says more about Amenadiel’s critical thinking skills than anything that it took him a couple dozen trips to notice that’s where I was arriving. I thought I'd startled a bloody polar bear with my sudden appearance; I’d been expecting a few minutes to myself to take in the stars before getting on with my usual M.O. of booze, women, and merriment, and instead, I got tackled into the ice and snow.”
One thing she will never forgive Amenadiel for is his repeated attempts to send Lucifer back to Hell; task from their father or not, how could a sibling do that to another? And worse, not care? “I hope you didn’t make it easy on him.”
“When have I ever?” he asks rhetorically. “The only time it was ‘easy’ for him was the first time he showed up to send me back. There’d been an influx of damned souls in Hell from this one, specific village in what is now France, and I popped up to see what was causing it. Being me, I became distracted when I heard the sounds of a party down the way in this tiny...I can’t even call it a pub, to be honest. So, I went to check it out, and next thing I knew, there was drinking and dancing, and I was having the time of my life. At least until everything froze and the door opened to reveal Amenadiel.
“It was the first time I’d seen any of my family since my banishment, and I couldn’t help it—I was excited and relieved to see him. Clearly, he didn’t return the sentiment. ‘Your return to the Underworld has been requested...’” He does a rather good imitation of his eldest brother’s voice. “There was no brotherly affection or even recognition in his eyes and that...startled me. Amenadiel and I were never particularly close in the Silver City, but we got along well enough, and he certainly never looked at me that way. When I tried to explain I’d simply popped up to check what was causing the influx from the village in Hell, he demanded I return to my throne, or he would make me.
“And that’s when I realized...not even my siblings were on my side anymore. You see, I’d told myself that it was simply their fear of Father that kept them from sticking up for me when He cast me out, and why they never came for me. So when I saw Amenadiel, I thought...‘finally, He’s lifted my banishment and I can go home again’. Little did I know...” He chuckles darkly, sadly.
“Amenadiel and I argued, and when I said something along the lines of how our father is a self-serving bastard, it turned physical. At least until I summoned my Devil face, which I’d only had under my control a short time at that point—and of course, Amenadiel had never seen it before then. And the way he looked at me, Chloe, in sheer terror was both satisfying beyond measure...and it broke my heart a little. Because he wasn’t looking at me as Samael, his mischievous baby brother; he looked at me like I was a monster. I informed him that my name was no longer Samael but Lucifer Morningstar, told him the equivalent of get bent of that time period, and flew back to Hell myself.”
If it weren’t so late at night, and if she wouldn't risk running into God, Chloe wouldn’t hesitate to fly to Linda and Amenadiel’s solely to punch the angel in the face. No wonder Lucifer has spent so long believing himself to be a monster, if his own siblings were there to reinforce his negative feelings.
“You’re not a monster,” she says, her voice shaking, though with more sadness or rage, she doesn’t know. “You know that, right?”
Lucifer gives her a sad smile, cupping a hand around the side of her neck and brushing her jawline with his thumb. “I do now—or rather...I’m starting to. As I’ve said many times, it isn’t easy to break thoughts one has had for billions of years,” he says softly. “Back then, though... What else could I have been? In my mind, at least. My own parents threw me away; none of my siblings stood up for me, or even attempted to visit. Surely that meant I was the worst thing to ever exist. I’d always thought something was wrong with me, because I wasn’t like my siblings; I couldn’t simply follow orders blindly and without question. I desired, which, as a concept for an angel, was anathema in and of itself. It took me ages to realize that that was how my father created me—defective. He intentionally created me wrong so that I would rebel, and He could have a cautionary tale for the rest of His children. Or that was my theory, anyway.”
Chloe shakes her head, disbelieving that any parent could treat their child that way. It’s unconscionable to her. “You were the scapegoat.”
“From the moment I was created,” he sighs heavily. “Now, I realize that different doesn’t equal defective, it just means different. And that they were the ones in the wrong—my parents, my siblings. And they’re also the ones missing out on everything that’s amazing and beautiful about life, because they—my siblings, that is—are too weak and cowardly to think for themselves.”
Chloe has never been more proud of Lucifer than she is right now for this realization—it’s a massive step in the right direction for him. “You couldn’t be more right. And as deeply sorry as I am for every bad thing you have ever experienced, Lucifer, I’m also so grateful for those experiences, because they led you here. To me.”
“Precisely,” he agrees, as if he’s had the thought himself before. “I would not give up a single moment spent with you, Chloe, not even for anything Heaven could provide.”
She reaches for his lapels and tugs him down enough so she can crash her lips to his. He hums in delighted surprise, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer, immediately deepening it. Pulling away gradually, she tugs on his bottom lip with her teeth, making him whimper and follow her for more.
“Let’s go home, Satan.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” He sounds slightly breathless. Entwining their fingers together, he turns and pulls her along behind him. “Come on!”
Chloe laughs as she stumbles through the sand, trying to keep up with his quick, long strides.
Lucifer wraps his arms around Chloe’s shoulders as they wait for the elevator to deposit them into the penthouse. It’s been quite the lovely evening, far better than he’d planned for, what with their restroom interlude at dinner, and now that they’re finally home again, he doesn’t want it to end. The sooner tonight ends, the quicker tomorrow and the dreaded family dinner arrives, after all. But it’s more that he’s spent the evening with just himself and Chloe—no children demanding their attention; no work hanging over their heads; no celestial shenanigans to deal with and stress about. It’s only been four weeks since their son was born, and already he’s started to forget what life was like before.
“We should do this more often,” he tells her softly.
She lifts her head from his chest, looking at him in amusement. “What, cuddle in the elevator?”
He smiles at her cheekiness, booping her lightly on the nose with his finger. She scrunches it adorably, pretending it annoys her. “Well, yes, that, too, but I meant taking an evening for ourselves. Tonight has been...exceptional.”
Her smile softens. “It has. And I was thinking the same thing, actually.”
“Really?”
She nods. “Yeah. As much as I like staying in, I like going out with you, too, Lucifer. You make whatever we’re doing fun.”
“Even paperwork?”
Her laughter echoes in the small, enclosed space. “Especially paperwork,” she agrees emphatically. “I’d rather not go out too much while Lucas is so young, but maybe once a month, at least? That way, no matter how stressful things get, there’s always light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Hmm...I do love the way you think, Detective,” he murmurs, smiling as he leans in to kiss her—just as the elevator doors open.
“Aww! You two are so cute!”
Sighing softly, Lucifer plasters on a smile and turns to Miss Lopez. “The Devil doesn’t do cute, Miss Lopez.”
“Well, that’s a lie,” Chloe says incredulously. I saw you in our bed yesterday morning with Lucas on your chest. Not to mention the matching suits yesterday...
Huffing, and not deigning to respond, he leads her into the penthouse. “How was your evening, Miss Lopez?”
“So great. Thank you so much for letting me watch Lucas; he’s just the most amazing baby ever.”
Lucifer quite agrees. “And no visits from on high?”
“Only the pizza delivery guy,” Ella promises. “And he looked nothing like you, so... Anyway, Lucas was really well-behaved, hardly cried at all, except at bedtime a little. He had no problem with his bottle. Though he’ll probably want another soon; he’s been down a couple hours now. And I’m pretty sure he’s a Trekkie-in-Training.”
“A what?” He stares at his friend. “Is that some sort of fetish I’ve never heard of? Didn’t think that was possible at this point. Honestly, you humans come up with some of the strangest things. Like clown porn...” He shudders. “What?”
Both Ella and Chloe are staring at him as if he's grown a second head. “No! A Trekkie is a Star Trek fan,” the former explains. “We watched a few of the original Shatner-era episodes, and he was entranced, it was so freaking adorable.”
“Well, to be fair, he’s entranced by his own fingers at this point,” Chloe says. Lucifer snorts a laugh. “He does the same thing when Lucifer watches Bones.”
“Well, yes, but Bones is fascinating, of course he does,” Lucifer says, pointing out the obvious. “Not to mention peak television production. Besides, you do realize, Miss Lopez, that Bill only even got the part on Star Trek because he made a deal with the Devil, yes?”
Ella’s jaw drops. “Wait, what? You’re joking?” He shakes his head, sipping the whiskey he just poured. “You’re the reason we have Admiral James T. Kirk, and, like, all of Star Trek?” He grunts when she tackle-hugs him. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”
“Right... I never said I was responsible for the entire show, Miss Lopez, only Shatner’s affiliation with it.”
“I need you to tell me everything!”
He pries himself away from her, looking over to Chloe for support. His loving, supportive, amazing fiancée just looks on in amusement. “No can do, I’m afraid; deals with the Devil are sacred and confidential,” he sniffs.
“What? Since when?” Chloe asks, quite unhelpfully. “You tell me about your deals all the time.”
“That’s different; you’re my partner, and are therefore privy to my dealings, whereas others are not,” he says promptly and smoothly. “Besides, haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘never meet your heroes’, Miss Lopez? I assure you, in Bill’s case that has never been more true.” When he hears his son waking up and start fussing, he immediately makes his excuses. “And now it sounds as though Lucas requires tending to, so thank you again for watching him this evening, Miss Lopez, and have a lovely rest of your night.”
Chloe’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “Oh, no, babe, you stay here and talk to Ella. I’ll go check on him.”
“Nope. I’m absolutely certain he requires me,” he says, desperate to get away from the frenetic energy of the young woman.
The last thing he wants is to be subjected to more gibberish about Wookiees and space invaders—those are Star Trek, right? Without hesitation, he cuts Chloe off as she takes a few steps towards the nursery. Behind him, he can hear the fading sounds of the women’s laughter.
Inside the nursery, it seems Ella discovered the room’s special features—the stars on the ceiling and walls are lit up, as well as the projection. Lucas is wearing an unfamiliar onesie (probably one brought over tonight by Ella). It’s black with a printed red image on the front and in the upper-left corner is some sort of gold emblem.
“What on Earth are you wearing, son?” he murmurs, shaking his head. “Is that polyester? Honestly...” Lucas’s fussing immediately fades when he hears Lucifer’s voice, which always gives the Devil a warm feeling. “Did you enjoy your evening with Auntie Ella, despite her questionable tastes in television and clothing? Your mum and I had a lovely time out, but we missed you.”
He lifts Lucas into his arms and carries him over to the rocking chair after checking he doesn’t need a diaper change. “You want to hear something strange? I used to spend every night partying, couldn’t imagine living any differently and thought I was happy that way. I’d been doing it since parties were first a thing here on Earth, after all. And yet, all it’s taken is a few months being with your mother and your sister to make me realize how wrong I was.
“Oh, I’ll always enjoy a good party, of course—just wait until you reach legal drinking age and see what sort of mischief your old man can get you into—but...I don’t know. Everything I despised about domesticity are the things I enjoy most—the quiet evenings in, board games and movie nights, cuddling... Now, I suppose, there is something to be said about the quality of the company being kept, of course; and there’s no one of higher quality than your mother. But if the world could only see me now, here with you...perhaps they’d change their minds about me.” He considers that for a moment. “No, you’re quite right, Lucas; that would take far more than the Antichrist, wouldn’t it?”
Lucas reaches up towards his face and Lucifer leans down—only for his son to grab onto his nose.
“The Devil's not cute, my behind.”
Lucifer angles his head, nose still being held hostage, to find Chloe leaning against the door. And her phone is out, aimed in their direction. “Don’t you dare, Detective,” he says warningly. Not that she heeds him, of course; the flash goes off and he sighs. “Delete that. Immediately.”
She snorts a laugh. “Not a chance.” She comes over to sit down beside them, leaning forward to press a kiss to Lucas’s head. “Hi, baby. I heard you were a little angel tonight for Auntie Ella.”
“He’s always a little angel; it’s literally in his DNA.” Chloe rolls her eyes at him. “Were you able to convince Miss Lopez to accept payment for this evening?”
She shook her head. “She refused again. So I stuffed the envelope in her bag when she wasn’t looking.”
Lucifer chuckles. “Well done, darling.” He looks back at Lucas. “Isn’t Mummy clever?”
She smirks. “I should probably give him a bottle before we go to bed.”
“Hmm, yes. That way we can have a few uninterrupted hours to ourselves,” he says, licking his lips and looking her over. “We didn’t have nearly enough time at the restaurant.”
The way she presses her lips together to hide her smile and blushes is adorable. “Maybe let’s not talk about this in front of Lucas?”
“I was referring to dessert, Detective,” he says innocently. “Mind out of the gutter, darling. Or leave it there for when we get the Gremlin back to sleep, whichever you prefer.”
Chloe rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but her lips are twitching. “You have a very silly daddy, Lucas. You’re very lucky to have him, too.”
Lucifer stares at her. Will there ever come a day when she doesn’t somehow wreck him with her faith and seeing the best in him? He hopes not, because it’s the best feeling in the world. Well, second to giving her an Earth-shattering orgasm. But outside of sex, it’s the best feeling, and he’s spent so long believing only the worst of himself...
“I love you.”
Chloe looks at him, surprised by the abrupt, emphatic declaration. “I love you, too.” Her eyebrows furrow as though she’s trying to figure him out, then shakes her head. “Okay, my turn. Hand him over. If you want to go get ready for bed, I’ll meet you there?”
He could... “No, I’m perfectly happy right where I am, actually.”
Now if he can only hang onto this feeling tomorrow.
Notes:
Disclaimer: I have nothing personal against Star Trek, Trekkies, or William Shatner. And Mr. Shatner (probably) didn't make a deal with the Devil to get on the show. Also, I know Wookiees aren't from Star Trek so please don't fill my inbox telling me I'm wrong.
Next chapter is Family Dinner. Happy Thanksgiving to any American readers. Hope your family dinners are better than the one Lucifer will be attending. 🦃🍗😈
Chapter 15: Family Dinner
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lucifer is on the warpath today.
Well, not literally, but he hasn’t stopped moving from the moment he opened his eyes. Normally, he’ll stay in bed with Chloe as long as possible, either to greet her properly, or lately, with Lucas on his chest, skin to skin, because he read that it helps with bonding with one’s child, until she wakes. Then, he’ll complain about having to get up unless Chloe has expressed a desire for breakfast, and they’ll spend a couple lazy hours afterwards curled up on the couch.
Not this morning.
When Chloe opens her eyes, she already has a bad feeling in her stomach, and that’s before she realizes both Lucifer and Lucas are elsewhere in the penthouse. And that Lucifer hasn’t been in bed with her for probably most of the night after she eventually fell asleep last night. He took full advantage of their son sleeping in his own room to give Chloe as many orgasms as he could wring out of her; she still feels that euphoric, post-orgasm soreness in her muscles.
It doesn’t take a genius to work out what’s likely got him worked up already: Today is the day that Lucifer faces his father for the first time in eons. Well, this evening. And Chloe knows him well enough by now to realize it’s going to affect him long before they even get to Linda and Amenadiel’s. But she’d hoped to be able to head it off at the pass, or at least have some warning of what she was going to face.
Sighing, she gets out of bed, grabbing her robe off the armchair in the corner, and goes in search of her boys. It isn’t surprising to find them in the kitchen, or even at the stove. Lucifer is holding Lucas, who is fast asleep on his dad’s shoulder, with one hand as he cooks, angling the baby away from the heat and any potential grease spatter. His jaw is tensed as he stares down at what looks to be french toast, the thumb of the hand holding Lucas absently rubbing circles on the baby’s back. Likely, Lucifer is self-soothing more than being affectionate. It would be an adorable sight (and it is), if not for the fact that Chloe knows what her partner is thinking about.
“Hey,” she calls softly as she approaches. Teivel is laying on the floor at Lucifer’s feet, like he also knows the Devil is having a rough day already.
Lucifer looks up from the stove, blinking a few times. He smiles, but it doesn’t entirely reach his eyes. “Morning, Detective. Coffee?”
Chloe nods. “Sure, thanks. How long have you two been awake?” She keeps her tone light. “I missed you in bed.”
“Apologies, love. I woke rather early and couldn’t get back to sleep, so when the Gremlin woke as well, I thought we’d allow you a bit more rest; I know I kept you up late.” There is absolutely no smugness in his tone, and that more than anything, has Chloe worried; usually after late night sex, he’s at least a little cocky about it.
“No, it’s okay. Does Lucas need nursing?”
Lucifer shakes his head as he expertly, and one-handed, prepares her latte. “No, I gave him some milk from the freezer,” he answers. “He has also been bathed and dressed for the day, as you can see.”
She does see. She also would have expected Lucifer to dress Lucas in another suit; instead, he’s wearing a onesie with baby ducks on it. “Well, you have been productive, haven’t you? Wanna hand him over, give yourself a break?”
Another headshake. “No. I’m quite all right, thank you, Detective.”
Chloe sighs. It’s going to be a really long day at this rate. “Lucifer—”
“Breakfast should be ready shortly. I hope you’re hungry.” He hands her the latte with another one of those terse smiles. Before he can turn away, she sets the cup down and reaches for his arm. “Detective? I should tend to the food before it burns...”
She shakes her head this time. “Lucifer, talk to me. Please?”
Averting his eyes, he gently removes his arm from her grasp. “What’s to talk about, darling?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice—almost warning her to not push.
“We both know the answer to that.” She isn’t afraid of him; and certainly not when he’s holding their one-month-old against his shoulder. “Tonight...”
His shoulders tense. “Yes, about that... Are you sure you won’t reconsider attending this...event with me? Amenadiel informed me yesterday that Michael is likely to also be in attendance, and...well. He’s far too interested in you for my comfort.”
“I’m not reconsidering,” she says quietly but firmly. Especially when just the pre-dinner jitters are doing this to him. She was expecting either completely manic-Lucifer, or moody, snippy-Lucifer. She isn’t even certain which Lucifer this is right now.
“Chloe...”
“No,” she says more firmly. “We’ve been over this, Lucifer. You’re not walking into the damn lion’s den on your own. Especially if your dickhead twin is going to be there.”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, as if she’s getting on his last nerve—well, too bad. “I have been dealing with my family longer than your entire family tree has existed,” he says evenly. “A couple of hours listening to my twin’s snide comments and my father’s ‘mysterious ways’ isn’t going to damage me any further than I already have been. You, on the other hand, barely know either of them, and you are not equipped to endure their manipulations.”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit, Lucifer,” she snaps. “I’m a cop, I deal with manipulative assholes all the time—I was married to one, for crying out loud! And okay, maybe Dan isn’t on your dad’s or even Michael’s level, but I still know how to handle it.”
“Please, you couldn’t even see that Cain was manipulating you!” he snaps right back.
Chloe glares at him, half-expecting him to realize he went too far and apologize, but he just juts his chin out and glares right back. Well, she can hit below the belt, too. “No. I didn’t. You know why? Because my own partner didn’t give me all the information I needed to make an informed decision. He kept things from me—all the time! Maybe if he’d been a bit more honest with me instead of ‘bluffing’, I would have seen something.”
Guilt flickers in his eyes, and settles in Chloe’s gut, but she isn’t going to let him pull that crap on her. She hadn’t seen Cain coming from ten feet away; it’s different than this. She has foreknowledge in this situation she didn’t have then.
“You’re always saying that you have all this confidence in my capabilities, but when it comes down to it, Lucifer, when it really counts, it turns into this—you, trying to protect me. For once in your damn life, let somebody protect you!” She walks over to him and he recoils, as if he thinks she’s going to hit him—which just...hurts even more. “Give me my baby.” Gently, she removes Lucas from his unresisting grasp, then walks out of the room.
Behind her, she hears Lucifer curse softly and throw something down onto the counter.
Look, she understands that Lucifer is under massive amounts of stress and anxiety right now—she does. Not to mention all the trauma and pain he’s suffered is flooding to the surface. But he doesn’t have to pull shit like that; she’s on his side, she has always been on his side, and that isn’t about to change now. And yes, Lucifer’s issues are literally cosmically large and go back to before time was a thing. That doesn’t mean Chloe can’t empathize with him and be there for him, even when he’s being a cosmically-sized asshole.
One of Lucifer’s problems is that he self-sabotages. So far, since they’ve been together, he’s gotten so much better about thinking things through—when it comes to Chloe and their relationship, at least. But when he gets overly nervous or afraid, he goes on the defensive, like he did just now, and pushes away all the goodwill he’s built up.
Well, he tries to; Chloe hasn’t let him, and she won’t let him this time, either. She’ll give him some time to cool off and remember that she has his back, then she'll apologize for snapping at him—and hitting her own low blows.
He’s explained a dozen or so times why he kept things from her before she knew the truth; he was terrified of losing her. So he kept secrets from her, and pushed her away in a dozen different ways, and pretended he didn’t care as anything more than a friend. Looking back, she understands why he did it; at the time, though, it broke her heart, because she knew he cared about her—a lot—but he just would not let her in.
From her perspective, he was just another human man who’s been hurt so deeply in the past that he thought the only thing he was worthy of was a life of meaningless one-night stands. He didn’t think anybody could love him, let alone that they would. He buried the hurt beneath partying, booze, and drugs—and orgies...so many orgies; Lucifer is an over-sharer most of the time, too—to avoid dealing with his trauma.
Hell, his speech on the beach the first time she kissed him told her that much. “You’re special...and I’m not worth it.” He saw himself as unlovable, unacceptable as anything that wasn’t sex-related; he saw himself as evil and as a monster. When all Chloe saw in him was the good. Of course, he had his faults—many of them—but who doesn’t, she’d thought. It wasn’t about her having a savior complex or trying to turn Lucifer into something he wasn’t; she wanted him as-is, faults and all, but no matter what she did, he couldn’t see that. Or he did, and just didn’t think he deserved it.
“Your daddy is a good man, Lucas,” she whispers to her still-sleeping son. “Don’t forget that. Despite all his faults and all his trauma, he’s the best man I've ever known. And you should be nothing but proud to call him yours. I know I am.”
Now, if only she can get him to stop being overprotective so they can go in there tonight as a team...
They’re sitting out on the balcony when Lucifer finds them twenty minutes later. He tentatively sets a plate of french toast, bacon, and eggs down beside a fresh latte. “May I sit?” he asks softly.
She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He’s carrying his own plate and coffee, his expression contrite. She nods.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Lucifer takes the chair beside her as Chloe shifts Lucas to one arm so she can eat—she got pretty good at eating one-handed with Trixie. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I should not have said what I did about Cain, Chloe, it was far below the belt. And you’re absolutely right; I kept things from you then that I never should have, starting with who I am. Once again, you have my utmost, sincerest apologies, darling.”
“Lucifer, I don’t care about that,” she says, weary and exasperated. “It’s history, over and done with, and we’ve talked about it to death. I was trying to get you to understand that we’re a team—that when we work together, we’re practically unstoppable. We make each other better. That is why I’m going with you tonight. Because you haven’t even seen Him yet, and you’re already in knots, and you need somebody there with you who you know is on your side and has your back, completely and unconditionally. That is how you get through this; not by trying to protect me. We protect each other.”
He nods, staring at his food. “I know that,” he says in an agonized whisper. “I just can’t stand the thought of something happening to you, and me, too powerless to stop it. Your safety has been guaranteed—from my father. But Michael is, at best, a wildcard, and we don’t know how angelic you are, or whether his dominion over fear has any effect on you.”
Chloe thinks back to the night Michael showed up while Lucifer was down at Lux. She was still pregnant at the time, and he’d made comments about wondering what ‘that thing inside her’ really was. In the moment, she assumed he was just being an asshole; afterwards, though...she had this feeling, an icy cold, primal fear creeping up her spine. It took Lucifer explaining about Michael’s power for it to recede, because she realized what it was and combatted it, but she’d had nightmares that night nevertheless. Ones that she couldn’t remember (and probably didn’t want to) the next morning.
“And he will try to get into your head, Chloe. My angelic name may have meant poison, but Michael breathes poison like humans breathe air—he twists the truth, he lies, he plants seeds of doubt that fester and rot as they grow. It won’t matter that my father is sitting right there; hell, my father would likely encourage it. Michael wants to destroy my life on Earth, I am convinced of it. I told you about the prophecy.”
Yes, he did. The one Maze found written down in some ancient, foreign language, apparently by Michael, then passed onto humans prophesying not only Chloe becoming an angel, but Lucas’s birth as well. It didn’t name them specifically, but the details fit their situation to a T.
“I’ve been dealing with men trying to get into my head since my acting days, Lucifer,” she says quietly. “More so as a cop, of course, but Michael, archangel or not, is just another asshole who underestimates me. Your dad, too, for that matter. And yes, I get it, they’re powerful—so what? I’m not afraid of them.” No, she’s afraid of what they’ll do to Lucifer—physically or psychologically. “So either we go as a team or neither of us goes; there is no other option that I’m willing to accept.”
There’s a spark of pride in his eyes for her. “Please, don’t ever think that I doubt your capabilities, Chloe. I promise you, I do not. I’m just...” He trails off, staring out over the city. He doesn’t finish the sentence. But he doesn't need to for her to know he's scared.
She reaches over for his hand and he immediately holds hers in a death grip. “I know,” she says softly. “But we can get through this—together. Just as we’ve gotten through everything else.”
He takes a deep breath and turns to her again, studying her, like he’s looking for any hint that she doubts her own words. He won’t find any. If Chloe believes in nothing else, she believes in Lucifer and their partnership. Gradually, the light begins to return to his eyes for the first time all morning, and the smile on his face is faint but genuine.
“Together,” he agrees softly, lifting her hand to his lips. The sigh he releases sounds almost restorative. “Thank you, Detective.”
“For what?”
He shrugs. “Being here.”
“Always, Lucifer.”
After that, while Lucifer isn’t completely back to normal, his mood is more manageable. When breakfast is completed, he switches to manic-Lucifer and goes on a cleaning spree, starting with the kitchen and working outwards. The penthouse isn’t what Chloe would call messy—mostly because Lucifer absolutely insisted on having his cleaning service come in once a week since Lucas was born. Not to mention, Lucifer makes neat-freaks look like slobs; he’s constantly picking things up off the floor and putting them back in their designated areas, like it’s a compulsion.
Chloe’s theory, that she will never voice, is that he’s like this on Earth because Hell is unmanageably dirty and full of ash, so his living space here has to be the exact opposite.
It’s like his thing with doors; before Chloe and Trixie moved in, the only room in the penthouse with a door was the bathroom. Since they’ve been here, he’s put doors on what had been the guest room for Trixie, and Lucas’s nursery. He’s refused every request of Chloe’s to put one on in their bedroom. But Hell is full of doors from what Chloe understands, and behind those doors, is some damned soul’s eternal torture.
To Lucifer, doors mean suffering and pain. And guilt.
Honestly, learning he’s the Devil made him make so much more sense...
In the early afternoon, the cleaning spree turns into a baking spree, which will make Trixie happy. Everything from a decadent chocolate cake with homemade ganache frosting to a soufflé. Chloe absolutely facepalms when he announces he’s also making pot brownies. A quick Google search revealed they wouldn’t have any adverse effects on Lucas while they’re baking, so she let Lucifer have this one. It’s not like he can get high on a little bit of pot, anyway. She softens a little when she sees he’s also making lemon squares for her.
“You are such a dork,” she tells him as she nurses Lucas, sitting at the breakfast bar.
She just watched him scrape the frosting bowl with a finger and stuff it in his mouth. “What?” he asks cluelessly. “Did you want some as well? Ooh...I should make more of this and eat it off of you, Detective...”
Chloe rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch. Doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.
The closer the time comes to when they have to leave to drop Lucas off with Dan and Charlotte, and still be punctual for dinner, the quieter and more withdrawn Lucifer becomes. He’s been increasingly demonstrative with his affection today, like he needs the physical contact. Another reason she needs to be there tonight; even before their soul-bond, she had some weird, innate ability to calm and soothe Lucifer with a touch—to his hand, his thigh, his back, it didn’t matter—and she’ll be able to know when he needs her comfort the most.
She’s also never been more grateful for their ability to pray to one another. They can speak to each other without being overheard by the others—well, the angels and Linda; Chloe wonders whether God will be able to hear them. Hopefully, Lucifer won’t send any NSFW prayers tonight; she really doesn’t need her future father-in-law (and the Ruler of the Universe) listening in on what her fiancé wants to do to her body.
Chloe blinks. Holy shit. God is going to be her father-in-law. And He’s Lucas’s grandfather. That...she doesn’t know what to do with that, actually. Talk about nightmare holidays. She shudders imagining Penelope and God in the same room.
Once she’s ready to go, and while Lucifer is still fussing with his hair (read: procrastinating), Chloe packs a bag for Lucas—changes of clothes, a few toys, several extra diapers, and his baby ducky pacifier, of course. And a backup pacifier with a baby koala on it...everything Dan and Charlotte could need for a couple hours and more.
“Okay, baby boy,” she says, dressing him in a gray onesie that says I’m a little angel with wings on the back, a knit cap with a golden halo, and the little red-soled black booties—because it’s adorable. “You’re gonna go hang out with Trixie and Uncle Dan and Auntie Charlotte for a few hours while Mommy and Daddy go have dinner, okay? I know it seems like we’re leaving you a lot, since we went out last night, too, but it’s just for a little while, then we can all come back home. You’ll have everything you need, and I’m sure between Dan and Charlotte...well, one of them will know what to do.”
Dan was actually really great with baby Trixie, even if he constantly dragged his feet in the middle of the night, leaving Chloe to always be the one doing midnight changings and rocking her back to sleep. He was attentive during daylight hours, though, and loved playing with her, and he always knew how to soothe her when she got upset for whatever little reason.
And he was surprisingly willing to watch Lucas tonight; Chloe had forgotten how much he loves babies. Charlotte has two kids, so unless she hired nannies (which is likely), she knows how to take care of them, too. Trixie adores her—that girl is currently in wedding heaven between Deckerstar and Danlotte (as Lucifer has taken to calling Dan and Charlotte; neither is amused).
Giving up on brushing Lucas’s hair into some semblance of order and putting the knit cap on his head, she picks him up and the bag she packed. “Okay, little man, let’s go see if Daddy is still stalling—” She stops suddenly on the way out of the nursery, nearly walking right into Lucifer.
“Steady on, Detective,” he says, smirking. He reaches for her waist to catch her stumble. “I know I’m irresistible, but no need to bowl me over.” He considers his words for a moment. “Actually, bowl me over all you like; preferably without the little Gremlin in your hands.”
She rolls her eyes as he takes the bag from her. “We were just coming to find you, actually.”
He licks his lips, looking her over. “Were you, now? Have I said, you look exceptionally lovely tonight?”
Glancing down at herself, she isn’t wearing anything particularly special as she wasn’t informed of any sort of dress code. She did have a moment of what does one wear when they literally meet their maker? But in the end, settled on a simple long-sleeve, black blouse and one of her nicer pairs of jeans with her usual black heeled boots. Her hair is down and wavy, but otherwise, she could be dressed for work.
Lucifer, on the other hand... Tonight, he’s wearing an all black three-piece suit with a waistcoat. And for only the second time in their partnership, he’s wearing a dark gray tie (the first time was at a 90s party at Lux when he dressed as 90s-era David Bowie). He looks like he’s going to a funeral. That doesn’t make her feel any better about the coming hours.
“Hmm,” she says appreciatively, biting her lip. “So do you. Love the tie.”
“Yes, I thought it appropriate,” he says, adjusting said tie. “The soufflé just finished, so I suppose I’m ready if you are, darling. Oh!” He reaches into his jacket pocket and hands her the demon blade Maze gave her, in the sheath Lucifer gifted her on her birthday. “I nearly forgot. You should have this on you tonight.”
Chloe slowly reaches out for it, bemused. “My demon blade?”
He nods. “Well, I wanted you to carry the sword, but it’s not exactly inconspicuous, is it? Wish I’d thought about portability when I was forging it. But never mind, here you are.”
“Lucifer, why do you think I need a demon blade to meet God?”
“It isn’t for God, Detective; it’s for Michael.” He scoffs as though it should have been obvious.
She briefly closes her eyes and takes a calming breath through her nose. However difficult this might be for her, it’s a hundred times worse for him. “And why would I need a blade for Michael?”
“Because he’s a weaselly, slippery snake, who can’t be trusted, of course.”
“Right. Of course.” Deciding if this gives him some peace of mind, it’s not worth arguing about. She takes the blade, slipping it into her pocket and adjusting Lucas on her shoulder. “Also, a weaselly snake, huh? That’s a new one.”
Lucifer hums, his finger tracing the scar on his chin absently. She asked him, once, why he’s completely unscarred except the one on his chin, assuming it was some childhood accident (or as childhood as angels get) or something that happened in Hell. He told her his brother gave him the scar—Michael, he’d corrected when she guessed it had been Amenadiel. And it happened right before his Fall.
Lucifer had refused to look at God after he’d been beaten half to death and dragged through the streets of the Silver City; Michael had used his sword to force him, digging it so deeply into his chin it had gotten stuck. Now she kisses it every chance she gets, wanting to give him better, more pleasant memories for that scar.
“Just in case, Detective,” he says softly, pleading with her to just agree.
She nods. “Okay.” She reaches for his hand with her free one. “It’s going to be okay.”
He doesn’t respond to that.
Dropping off Lucas with Dan and Charlotte took a little longer than anticipated, between giving them instructions and saying hi to Trixie, who is with Dan until Wednesday. Then with that and traffic, they just make it to Linda’s on time. They probably would have made better time if Lucifer had driven the way he always does—like a maniac—but aside from the day Lucas was born, it was the first time he actually drove like a normal person without Chloe asking him to slow down every five minutes. Even on the drive here, he’s dragging his feet.
“I’m right here,” she reminds him as they make their way up Linda’s front walkway. “I’ll be here the whole time.”
Lucifer’s jaw is so tight, she can almost hear his teeth grinding; how that doesn’t hurt him, she’ll never understand. “Yes, Detective,” he says, his voice barely audible.
And I’m here, too.
That settles his nerves, just a little. The tight line of his shoulders releases just enough for her to notice. Yes, Detective. He smirks down at her, the hand not holding the soufflé squeezing hers. Almost forgot about this, actually.
She squeezes his hand back comfortingly as they reach the door. Just as her finger extends to press the doorbell, the tiniest of whimpers leaves his throat. She wouldn’t have heard it were she not so attuned to him. She looks up at him. “You good?” she murmurs.
He takes a deep breath, staring straight ahead. “Not really,” he exhales. “Apologies; that’s likely to be the theme for the evening.”
“Please, don’t apologize. I know you’re nervous, it’s okay.”
“I hope so,” he breathes, nodding for her to ring the bell.
Linda opens the door after a minute or so, looking frazzled but relieved to see them. “Hi, we weren’t sure you would make it,” she says, glancing sympathetically at Lucifer.
“Yeah, sorry. We got caught up dropping off Lucas, then in traffic,” Chloe explains.
“Please, come in. You’re not even the last arrivals, so...”
Lucifer’s eyebrows furrow. “Who else is coming to this blasted thing?”
“Michael isn’t here yet,” Linda says, holding the door open. “Amenadiel and Dennis are in the living room.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Who the bloody hell is Dennis?” he asks incredulously.
Linda clears her throat, leaning closer. “Uh, your father. We didn’t want to refer to Him as...you know...so Amenadiel and I came up with Dennis; it’s a common enough name...”
The Devil scoffs, rolling his eyes as he releases Chloe’s hand, gesturing for her to go in first. “You have got to be joking...”
Linda gives him an apologetic smile, then sends a questioning look to Chloe, silently asking if he’s doing okay. Chloe gives her a miniscule headshake. Linda grimaces.
Lucifer hesitates on the threshold and Chloe looks back at him as he visibly gathers himself for what’s to come. He takes a deep breath, and she watches in fascination as he chameleons from the Lucifer she knows to public-Lucifer. A confident, bordering-on-arrogant smirk on his lips, relaxed, devil-may-care demeanor, and no sign of the previous tension in his body. The man would make a killing in Hollywood with those abilities...
Let’s do this... He walks into the townhouse, slowly scanning the room...and then freezes completely.
Chloe follows his gaze towards the dining room table where Amenadiel is standing and conversing with an older, dark-skinned man. If she were passing Him on the street, she would assume He’s the typical grandfatherly sort with short black hair and a greying beard. He’s wearing a white cardigan, tan pants, and socks with sandals—Chloe is just waiting for a comment on the latter. But the man doesn’t look like anything special, let alone like the most powerful being in the universe—she’s standing beside the second most powerful, she knows.
Amenadiel spots them first and greets them with a large smile. “Luci, Chloe! Welcome!”
She glances at Lucifer, waiting for him to say something, but he’s busy staring at the other man, his expression inscrutable. So she greets him for the both of them. “Hi, Amenadiel.”
“Detective Chloe Decker,” Amenadiel says formally, standing almost at attention, “Allow me to introduce my father, Dennis.”
‘Dennis’ smiles benignly, hands behind His back. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Chloe Decker,” He says, His voice low and almost comforting.
Chloe clears her throat. How do you greet God? “Um, hi, it’s nice to meet you...uh, Dennis,” she says awkwardly.
Then God Almighty turns His sights to the Devil. “Hello, My son,” He says quietly. “It’s been a long time.”
Turning to her partner, Chloe expects Lucifer to scoff and say something snarky. But he just stands rigidly beside Chloe, radiating tension. She brushes the backs of her fingers against his, reminding him that she’s here.
Lucifer finally clears his throat. “Dad,” he says coolly.
Chloe, Linda, and Amenadiel all look between them warily, uncertain what to expect. Linda gestures for them to come down the stairs taking the soufflé from Lucifer. “Chloe, Lucifer, can I get either of you a drink?” she asks politely.
Not caring about etiquette, Chloe takes Lucifer’s hand again, gently pulling him forward into the house. “Um, yeah, that would be great, Linda, thank you. I’ll just have some water. And all the booze for him, please,” she adds under her breath as she passes Linda.
Linda’s eyes widen and she nods. “Riiight...I’ll be right back, make yourselves comfortable.”
Chloe stifles a snort. Yeah, right.
They stop a few feet from Dennis. He holds out His hand for Chloe to shake. “I believe it is customary in your culture to shake hands?” He says, glancing to Amenadiel for confirmation; Amenadiel nods.
Now, Chloe has never been a particularly violent person. Despite the reputation cops have, she doesn’t go straight for a violent solution with suspects—or anyone else. The only time, aside from the paparazzo at her father’s funeral, that she’s hit somebody out of anger was Dan after he told her about Palmetto. Right now, though, her fingers are twitching, itching to turn her hand to a fist and punch the old grandfatherly-looking man in front of her for everything He has ever done that has hurt Lucifer. She barely manages to keep that particular urge in check, reaching out her hand to shake Dennis’s.
Her other hand, the one Lucifer is still holding, is nearly crushed as his anxiety ramps up. Dennis’s eyes dart towards the Devil as He shakes Chloe’s hand. Her eyebrows furrow slightly at the warmth in the man’s hand; it isn’t only temperature, but something that flows through her. Filling her with a sense of power and peace—
Beside her, Lucifer’s chest rumbles—not quite a growl. “I think that’s quite enough,” he says coldly, tugging Chloe away from his father. The sensation vanishes abruptly.
Dennis tilts His head, eyebrows furrowed, a frown on His lips. “Come now, Samael—”
“That is not my name.” That was a growl. “That has not been my name in eons, Dennis.”
Lucifer. They really don’t need to start out the night with hostility. She looks at Dennis. “His name is Lucifer,” she states mildly.
Dennis nods His head, almost a bow. “Of course, Amenadiel did warn Me that you prefer your...chosen name. It must have slipped My mind.”
Lucifer scoffs scathingly.
The elder man smiles slightly, and—to Chloe, at least—it looks genuine. “You look well, son,” He says pleasantly, as if it’s only been a couple of months since they last saw one another rather than billions of years.
The temperature in the room seems to rise a few degrees, the lights a little brighter. Chloe feels Lucifer bristle and the hairs on her arms stand straight up. “Oh, do I, now?” he says, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Dennis, completely unaffected by the change in the room, hums affirmatively. “Yes, I suppose billions of years to recover from having every one of my bones shattered, and then burning for centuries on end, I would look better than that, wouldn’t I?”
Chloe winces. Amenadiel’s eyes widen, bouncing between God and the Devil. Neither of them knows what to do—or whether to step in. Thankfully, Linda returns with a tray of drinks and hor d'oeuvres. “Okay, I have wine, water, and...ohhh... What did I miss?”
The distraction seems to bring Lucifer back from the brink, his polite, public mask back in place. “Ah, thank you, Doctor, I could use a refreshment.” He has just enough time to pick up the glass from the tray when the door opens again. They all look over to see Michael step inside the house, his smarmy smirk in place.
“I hope I’m not late.” His eyes slide from God, to Lucifer, then land on Chloe. And his smirk widens.
It’s going to be a long night.
“So, why ‘Dennis’?” Chloe asks Linda quietly as they stand in the kitchen. Emily is in her highchair babbling away in baby-speak and shaking a little stuffed angel.
Linda’s lips twitch. “Well, He kind of looks like that actor—Dennis Haysbert?”
Chloe looks into the living room. Lucifer is near the liquor cabinet, examining the options. Michael is on the far side of the house, leaning near the fireplace, arms crossed, watching. Amenadiel and God are speaking quietly. She looks closer at God, tilting her head. “Oh yeah, He does, doesn’t He? The AllState guy, right?”
“Are you in good hands?” Linda imitates, lowering her voice. They both laugh, then Linda sobers, shooting a glance towards Lucifer. “So, seriously, how’s Lucifer?”
Chloe sighs deeply.
Linda winces sympathetically. “That bad?”
“Worse. It’s been a rough week.”
“I can imagine...”
So far, Lucifer hasn’t said another word to his father after he nearly leveled Linda’s house to the ground—because Chloe is certain that’s what would have happened if God had kept up the whole kindly father routine right then. Or if Linda hadn’t distracted him. In fact, Lucifer has barely spoken at all, even to Chloe.
“We had a really good night last night, but otherwise...” Chloe says softly, shrugging helplessly. “I should get back to him, actually. I told him I’d stay by his side.”
Linda smiles. “He’s so lucky to have you, Chloe.”
“I’m lucky to have him,” Chloe corrects her. Brushing her fingers through Emily’s hair and getting an adorable baby grin in return, she heads back into the living room towards Lucifer, sliding her hand across his lower back. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he returns, expression relieved. “Would you care for a drink, darling?”
“Just a small one, thanks.” He pours her a small glass of wine. “Doing okay?”
His eyes dart towards his father, then his twin. “Not particularly. Are we certain we can’t fake an emergency and get out of here early?”
She gives him a look. “You don’t lie.”
“No, but you can,” he says hopefully. She shakes her head slowly, holding back a smile. He sighs dramatically. “Damn.”
A few minutes later, Linda announces dinner will be served shortly, so they all take seats around the table. To no one’s surprise, God (Dennis), sits at the head of the table. Amenadiel on His right, Michael on His left. There are three empty seats and a highchair left. Lucifer drags the one right beside Michael around to the other side for Chloe, making it a tight fit, but clearly he doesn’t want her sitting beside his twin. He takes the other head seat, opposite his father.
Dinner is chicken, roasted potatoes, steamed vegetables, and salad. Emily and her highchair end up pulled away from the table to accommodate Chloe’s chair being moved to sit next to Linda. For a moment, nothing happens, as if they’ve all forgotten what they’re supposed to do now, then Michael starts to reach for a dinner roll in the basket in front of him.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Lucifer says urgently, holding up his hand. His expression is one of polite innocence; Chloe knows better—he’s up to something. They all look at him questioningly. He holds his hands out, palms up, fingers pointed towards his father. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” They look at him blankly. “Well, shouldn’t we say grace?”
Chloe raises an eyebrow at him. As far as she knows, Lucifer has never said grace in his life. And really, neither has she; she participated when she was married to Dan and they were having dinner with his family, but she wouldn’t even know where to start. And she certainly has no interest in thanking God for anything, anyway. She glances at Lucifer, who has the tiniest of smirks on his face.
What are you doing...?
Lucifer doesn’t answer.
Across the table, Michael scoffs at Lucifer, but doesn’t denounce the suggestion; he looks annoyed that he didn’t think of it first. He also doesn’t volunteer. Amenadiel looks like a deer in headlights. God is looking around the table expectantly. Which only leaves...
“I-I’ll say it...?” Linda suggests tentatively. God bows His head at her. “Okay...” She clears her throat nervously. “I’d like to thank God for—” She breaks off, glancing at God Himself, pointing awkwardly at the ceiling. “I’m used to You being...up there...”
Lucifer rolls his eyes and sighs impatiently. Chloe shoots him a look; this was his idea.
“Thank You, God, for this food and the company, and...oceans and napkins, and shoes. And life!”
Lucifer puts everyone’s misery to an end. “Yeah, that about covers it, Doctor. Thank you.”
Linda stops rambling. “Amen.” The table echoes her.
“That was beautiful, Linda,” Dennis says. “Thank you.”
Linda leans towards Amenadiel. “I just thanked God for napkins.”
Chloe’s lips twitch in her wine.
“Better than I would have done,” Amenadiel responds.
Looking back towards the others, Linda puts a polite smile in place. “Okay, well, let’s dig in.”
Dishes are passed around the table. God has the chicken first, then passes to Michael. Lucifer holds his hand out expectantly, but his asshole twin just smirks and hands it to Linda. The Devil glares. Chloe puts a little of everything on her plate, eventually getting the chicken back and promptly giving it to Lucifer.
“Thank you, darling,” he says pointedly, cutting a look towards Michael.
Children...
“So... This is lovely,” Lucifer says. To anybody else, his voice is pleasant, happy, even. Chloe knows better. “All the fam, back together after eons.”
God looks up as He puts fresh green beans onto His plate. “Yes, I thought it was time to visit My children. And My grandchildren. Speaking of whom... You did not bring your son, Sa—Lucifer.”
Lucifer tenses beside her, though whether at the near mention of his former name or the mention of Lucas, she isn’t sure. Her hand finds his thigh under the table. “Yes, well, You know how it is—well, no, I suppose You don’t, do You? Nevertheless...he would likely be crying through most of the meal; he isn’t particularly fond of strangers.”
Ignoring Lucifer's sarcasm, Chloe has noticed that, too, actually. Lucas’s ‘flirting’ aside, when he meets somebody who isn’t family, he gets fussy, squirmy, and whiny. It’s the same way Trixie was as a baby. Chloe pauses with her fork halfway to her mouth as she wonders... Does Lucas also have the soul-reading ability, same as Trixie? Of course, he’s only a month old; it could be as simple as...he’s a baby, babies get fussy. But it’s something to mention later to Lucifer.
“Detective?” Lucifer says softly.
She shoots him a reassuring smile and shakes her head, indicating she’s fine. It’s nothing. Really.
He nods and returns to his own meal.
“Still, while I’m here, I would like to meet My grandson.”
God’s voice is still pleasant enough, but there’s...not quite an edge, but something to it that sends a weird sensation through Chloe. Lucifer grabs her hand and the feeling dissipates abruptly. She blinks several times, looking between the Devil and God curiously. The former is glaring at the latter.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Lucifer says, with absolutely zero regret in his tone, “but I’m afraid that will not be an option.”
God raises an eyebrow. “And why is that?” He asks evenly.
“Because he is my son, and I say no.”
God’s gaze turns to Chloe. “And what say you on the matter, Chloe Decker?”
A little startled to be caught in an argument between God and the Devil, Chloe flounders for a moment before she rallies. “I agree with Lucifer on this,” she says firmly. She can feel Lucifer relax slightly in relief beside her.
“I see.” There’s obvious disappointment in the Almighty’s tone.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Michael grumbles. “It's not like the kid will remember anything. Don’t those things have memories like goldfish, anyway?”
Chloe bristles. “And I don’t think it’s any of your business,” she says evenly.
He raises a challenging eyebrow. “Well, if the new angel says so.”
God hums. “Hmm, yes, how are you enjoying your new abilities, Chloe?” He asks politely.
Chloe tenses, glancing at Lucifer. They’d discussed—a little—whether they were going to bring any of that up, or just assume they’d never get a straight answer, no matter what. “It's taken some getting used to,” she says neutrally. “But I think I’m getting the hang of the wings, at least.”
“You’ve been magnificent,” Lucifer praises her. “Particularly for a human who was thrown headfirst into the celestial without even a paddle. It would have been nice to know some of this ahead of time.”
“Chloe was...a bit ahead of schedule,” God says mysteriously.
Everyone stops, looking between God and Chloe and Lucifer. “What is that supposed to mean?” Lucifer asks quietly.
“Simply that what happened in the warehouse was not meant to happen.”
Chloe and Lucifer share a stunned look. What the fuck? they pray in unison.
Lucifer takes a breath, setting down his fork with forced calmness. “And what was supposed to happen?” God merely takes a bite of chicken, meeting His son’s gaze steadily. Lucifer lets out an annoyed breath. “Okay... Answer me this, then: Is Chloe a full angel?”
Chloe holds her breath, looking between the two of them. It’s as if everybody else at the table has disappeared; none of them move or say anything.
A strange shivering washes over Chloe as God looks at her. He turns back to Lucifer. “Not yet.”
“What does that mean?” Chloe asks, leaning forward to look at the Creator. “You’re saying I will be a full angel? Will I be able to go to Heaven?”
“The gates of the Silver City are open to you, Chloe,” God says. “Whenever you like.”
All the breath in Chloe’s lungs rush out at those words. For a year, since she found out she is immortal, Chloe has dreaded the day that Trixie grows old and dies, forever out of her reach. Then the wings came in, and one of her first thoughts was that she would be able to fly to Heaven and visit her family—her daughter, her father—but Lucifer didn’t know if it would be possible. And they never tested her ability to cross dimensional planes. But she hoped...
There is pressure on her fingers. She looks over to find Lucifer giving her that soft smile she loves so dearly. But it’s tinged with sadness. And she realizes: She can go to Heaven; he cannot.
Oh, that is so unfair...
“Wait, the fake angel can come and go from the City?” Michael says incredulously.
God shakes His head. “She is no fake, son.”
Michael looks incensed, and Chloe has no idea why. She doesn’t particularly care, either. “What about Lucifer?” she asks without meaning to, the words tripping off her tongue. God raises a questioning eyebrow. “Can Lucifer come with me, to see our family?”
“Of course not,” Michael scoffs. “He’s been banished, eternally. Have you been living under a rock?” Suddenly, Michael jolts, grunting softly.
And Lucifer moved at the same time, having just kicked his twin underneath the table. Chloe fights a smile. He sends her a wink.
“Besides, the Devil belongs in Hell.”
Then God drops a bomb nobody was expecting: “Hell no longer requires a warden.”
Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Only God continues on with His meal as if what He just said was entirely inconsequential. Slowly, Chloe turns to look at Lucifer—he’s blanched, eyes wide, lips parted. He looks more stunned now than he did when she told him she was pregnant. She squeezes his fingers, which have gone cold. He’s in shock.
Lucifer?
He doesn’t respond. “What does that mean?” The words fall from his motionless lips, whisper-soft. When he doesn’t get an answer, he takes a trembling breath. “What does that mean?” His voice is a little stronger now.
Chloe’s mind is whirring. Does that mean Lucifer never has to return to Hell? Like...ever?
Still God does not respond. Lucifer tries a new question. “Why? Why now? After all these years of me suffering down there, suddenly You announce Hell no longer requires me?”
“I think you know why,” God says steadily.
Lucifer scoffs, falling back into his chair. “If I knew why, I wouldn’t be asking, would I?”
“What are you even complaining about, Samael? You’ve finally got everything you want—restored to your former glory, a pretty little Miracle wife, a wailing brat of your own, and now, Dad is telling you you’re free,” Michael snaps. “You had your own kingdom, for Dad’s sake!”
Again, Lucifer goes still, but this is a much different stillness. Amenadiel suddenly downs his glass of wine. Linda lets out a nervous “ohhh...” as she eyes Emily, like she wants to grab her baby and run. Chloe can’t blame her. She tries to simultaneously calm Lucifer and glare at Michael for being an utter dick.
“Is that how you see it?” Lucifer asks, his voice deceptively calm and soft. “Being forced to torture souls for hundreds of thousands of years was an ‘attaboy’? Sure, I was King of Hell, but I was still in Hell. If that wasn’t a poisoned chalice, I don’t know what is. You have no idea what that was like, how easy you had it.”
Both of them jump to their feet, Lucifer gently removing his hand from Chloe’s.
“Easy?” Michael echoes, scoffing. “I spent my entire life in the worst kind of Hell there is.”
Amenadiel tries to keep the peace. Outside the windows, the sky begins to darken. “Luci, Michael, come on...”
“Oh, what could possibly be worse?”
Lucifer...
“Sharing a face with you!”
The lights inside the house start to flicker; outside, thunder rumbles loudly. Chloe's eyes find God’s face and cold dread settles in her stomach at the quiet fury in His expression. Turning back to Lucifer and Michael, she continues praying to her partner, trying to get him to calm down, but he's not paying her any mind, all his focus on his twin.
“We were dealt the same hand, the same face, the same bloody shoulders, except you had a chip on yours so big you managed to,” Lucifer jerks his shoulder a few times mockingly, “self-actualize it! Oh, no, no, no. There’s nothing wrong with him, don’t be fooled.” He takes a step towards his twin, snarling. “You have no one to blame but yourself for who you are!”
“Luci!”
Lucifer, come on!
“Oh, I blame you plenty.”
“Michael!”
“Of course you do, you petty little sh—”
“CHILDREN!”
The lights in the house go out suddenly. Emily starts to cry and Linda quickly gathers her, making comforting shushing noises. The only person Chloe cares about right now is Lucifer, standing face to face with his mirror image and looking as though he would like nothing more than to put his fist through that mirror.
“And there it is...the Old Testament wrath. Wasn’t sure You still had it in You.” Lucifer retakes his seat, immediately seeking Chloe’s hand. She holds on, wondering what the hell is even happening right now.
“All I wanted was a nice family dinner. But apparently, that’s too much to ask for.”
Lucifer scoffs, shaking his head incredulously. “You show up here, after thousands of years, and simply expect everything to be okay again?” he asks softly. “All I ever wanted was to be left alone—was that too much to ask for, as well?”
The lights flicker back on. God’s hands are flat on the table as He stares at Lucifer, who holds His gaze defiantly. “Ask your questions, S-Lucifer.”
The Devil looks to Chloe first. What do you wish to know, Chloe?
Chloe turns to God. “Is Lucifer allowed back into Heaven? If Hell doesn’t need him, what does that mean for him?”
She can feel Lucifer’s amazed gaze on her, and she knows what he’s thinking. He assumed she would ask about why she’s a Miracle, or about Lucas. And while the latter is a priority, right now, Lucifer is the focal point.
God looks between Chloe and Lucifer, and for a moment, she doesn’t think He’s even going to answer. “I would imagine that is his decision.”
Chloe can hear Amenadiel’s jaw drop. Michael drops his fork with a clatter. “What?” The Sword of God could not look more furious if he tried. “After everything he did, You’re just going to let him come home?”
The look God gives Michael pins him to his seat. Slowly, He turns back to Lucifer. Before He can say anything, though, Linda starts to laugh—that slightly panicked, anxious sort of laugh.
“I’m sorry, I’m just really nervous.”
Amenadiel hangs his head. “No, we’re sorry, Linda. And Chloe. That either of you have to witness this—the most dysfunctional family in the Universe.”
For possibly the first time ever, the eldest angel has said something Chloe agrees with wholeheartedly. She's always known Lucifer came from a dysfunctional family and her opinion only strengthened when she learned he's really the Devil and he's told her stories from his past. But what she's witnessed here tonight? After meeting God, the reason for the dysfunctionality, she's even more amazed and proud of how Lucifer has turned out as well adjusted as he has. Not to mention that he can be such an incredible father himself. She understands her partner so much better now, which she hasn't believed possible.
Linda sobers suddenly, looking between the angels and God. “No, actually it’s...it’s wonderfully normal. Well, I mean, except for the rain and the thunder. No, it’s just...three sons who want their father’s love and feel like they aren’t getting it.”
“I don’t want Dad’s love,” Lucifer says suddenly, sneering. “I just want him to admit that He’s a bad father and always has been. Although...maybe that’s part of the reason He is a bad father. Well done, Doctor. You’re as insightful as ever.”
“No, that’s not exactly what I was saying.”
Amenadiel shakes his head. “Luci, you're being really unfair.”
“Oh, come on, brother. Tell me, would you treat Emily the way Dad treated us? Because I would never put Lucas through that. I'd sooner cut off my own arms.”
“Well, I—”
Lucifer’s jaw tenses, looking imploringly at his brother. “Be honest! Please.”
Amenadiel looks from his younger brother to his father who tilts His head questioningly. Then, he looks to his daughter in Linda’s arms, reaching over to smooth some of her hair down, smiling as the little girl reaches for him. He turns back to his father. “I’m sorry, Dad, but I hope not.”
“And you’d do anything for your daughter, wouldn’t you?” Lucifer asks knowingly, the same determination in his own eyes. He glances at Chloe and she can see how bright his eyes are. She holds his hand with both of hers, trying to give him whatever strength and support she can. She’ll give him whatever he needs.
“I would.”
Lucifer nods. “As I would for Lucas,” he confirms softly. “Michael and I don’t agree on much, but the one thing that we all have in common is You, Dad. And how much You’ve screwed us up. I mean...if all the apples are bad...maybe it’s the tree that’s the problem.”
Lucifer... Chloe doesn’t even know what to say to that. Tears burn in her eyes. How can he not see that he's the only good apple of the bunch? A little bruised, maybe, not even close to rotten as he's always believed. He looks at her with a faint, sad smile.
God looks around the table at three of the sons He failed and then abandoned. “I’m sorry you feel that way. All I ever wanted was to empower you...all My children, to make your own choices.”
“Is that why You’ve always been so cryptic? Oh. Before You answer that cryptically, I would like to instead ask You one simple question and get one simple answer.” He huffs humorlessly. “A confession, if You will.”
Michael leans towards God. “Dad, You don’t have to do this.”
But God holds His hand up at His Sword, looking instead at the Devil. “What’s your question, Samael?”
Chloe holds her breath, watching as Lucifer takes a breath of his own, his eyebrows pulled in close together. Beneath the table, the death grip he has on her hand is bordering on painful; she doesn’t dare ask him to loosen it. The look in his eyes says he’s on the verge of drowning. Tilting his head to the side, he doesn’t look like the Devil anymore; he’s her Lucifer. The lost, scared man who has only just found his place, his home, and his family—and is terrified of losing it all.
“Dad. Do You love us?”
Beside her Linda gasps softly. Chloe briefly looks at the others—Michael and Amenadiel both turn to look at their father. God looks between HIs children, His expression unreadable.
“If I have to answer that...then I really have failed.”
Chloe’s heart shatters at the look in Lucifer’s eyes as she watches his heart break with disappointment and pain, then pure rage flares in her veins. Everything she’s ever felt towards her partner’s father, from the moment she first saw those scars on his back (“Oh, yes, I suppose it is His fault.”) to every story Lucifer ever told her about his time in Hell, his life in the Silver City that felt like Hell for him, his Fall.
“What is wrong with You?” she asks, seething as she turns to God. “I could not imagine not loving my children—equally and not pitting them against one another the way You have with Yours. And I get that you've been busy running the universe or whatever, but I know what it’s like to be a working parent, and I would never allow that to happen with my children. How can You not even tell them You love them? After everything You’ve done to Lucifer alone.”
“Oh, shut up. What do you know?”
Lucifer’s fist slams on the table, his eyes flashing red. “You watch your tongue or I’ll rip it out of your mouth,” he snarls at his twin.
Michael glares at him with mock-fear. “Oh, are you going to kill me, too? Smite me from existence?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
Michael turns to their father. “Father, he destroyed Uriel, for a human, and You intend to set him loose in the Silver City?”
Lucifer jumps to his feet. Amenadiel follows slowly, as if he’s expecting to break up a fight. “You’re damn right, I did it for her,” he growls. “And I would do it again—for reasons you could never understand.”
Michael sneers. “For love?” he mocks.
“Every bloody time.” He glances down at Chloe, love shining in his eyes. Then he turns his sweeping gaze to the rest of the table, landing on his father. “I never wanted any of this. I wanted to be left alone, with my family. And yet, Dad shows up and all of a sudden, I’m dragged back into the thick of it again. I don’t care about the Silver City. I don’t care about Hell. All I care about is Chloe and the family she and I have built together. The rest of you can hang, for all I care. Come along, darling, I think I’ve had quite enough.”
“Samael—”
“For the last bloody time, that is not my name,” Lucifer snaps at his father, eyes flashing bright crimson. “Either address me as Lucifer or do not address me at all. I certainly know my preference. Detective?” He holds his hand out for her. She takes it immediately.
She glances briefly at Linda, giving her an apologetic smile for their sudden, early departure—and for leaving her on her own to deal with whatever fallout is to come. Linda shakes her head, mouthing, ‘I’ll call you tomorrow’.
Lucifer’s strides are so long, Chloe can barely keep up. They’re only just reaching the door when God calls, “Oh, and Chloe?”
Lucifer lets out a frustrated sigh, but they stop. Chloe turns and raises an expectant eyebrow at the Almighty, tempted to punch Him in the face.
“Have your powers awoken yet?”
She frowns. “My what?”
God smiles mysteriously. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Lucifer mutters under his breath, nearly yanking the door off its hinges in his determination to get out of the house, away from his family.
Chloe’s head is spinning, uncertain where to even start with everything that’s just happened. Powers? Laser beam hands? She manages to lock down her hysterical laugh, focusing instead on Lucifer.
For the first time in...she isn’t even sure how long, his first thoughts don’t seem to be about her. He is fleeing, pure and simple. Honestly, she’s surprised he hasn’t whipped out his wings to get away quicker. She wouldn't blame him if he did.
“Lucifer?” she calls after she stumbles and nearly falls.
He doesn’t seem to hear her.
She sighs. Lucifer?
He stops so suddenly she runs right into his back, and it’s like smacking into a brick wall. “Yes, Detective?” he asks flatly.
Closing her mouth around the ridiculously stupid question of “Are you okay?”, Chloe simply moves to stand in front of him, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding on. For a moment, he doesn’t move, completely frozen, then gradually, he melts into it, one hand cradling her head, the other around her waist. He lets out a long, trembling sigh that is so ancient and so full of pain that she doesn’t know how to help him.
“What can I do?” she whispers against his shoulder.
He sniffs. “I’d like to see our son.”
She nods, that is something absolutely doable. “I’ll drive.”
He doesn’t even argue about handing over the Benz keys. Instead, opening the driver’s door for her. Before she can sit down, though, he cups her cheek and kisses her thoroughly.
“What was that for?” she asks, dazed and mumbling.
He looks at her with reverence and love shining in his eyes. “You’re the first to ever stand up to my father on my behalf. There are no words, Chloe Decker, to express what that means to me—what you mean to me. And I will never forget what you did for me tonight.”
Chloe shakes her head. “You never have to thank me for that, Lucifer. I am always on your side. I’ve wanted to punch your dad in the face for years. Shame I didn’t get the chance...”
He laughs—a full-on, genuine, Lucifer Morningstar belly laugh. “Too right, my love,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling faintly. “Let’s go home.”
Chloe couldn’t agree more.
Notes:
This is not the last we see of God. Or of Chloe confronting Him. 😈
Chapter 16: Feelings Suck
Notes:
Possible TW for this chapter: Brief mention of past suicidal ideation. (Pop down to the end notes for more information. Will contain chapter spoilers.)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
When they stop to pick up Lucas from Dan’s, Chloe leaves Lucifer in the car while she runs inside. He hasn’t said a single word since closing her door and getting in beside her, and Chloe hasn’t tried, letting him work through his thoughts in his own way. The one thing she did do was take his hand in her free one as she drove, reminding him that she’s here and he isn’t alone. Lucifer doesn’t even seem to realize that they’ve stopped outside Dan’s building, instead staring out the window, his eyes glazed and lost in memories.
“Hey, Chlo,” Dan greets with a jovial smile when he answers the door. His expression falters when he sees hers. “Everything okay?”
She glances over her shoulder towards the Benz where she can just see Lucifer’s hunched silhouette in the passenger seat. She shakes her head. “No, I really don’t think it is,” she says quietly, mostly to herself.
Dan looks concerned, but seems to know better than to ask. For once. “Well, you’re earlier than expected. Lucas was fine, barely fussed at all. Charlotte just finished giving him his bottle, actually,” he reports.
Chloe nods, turning back to him with a tight smile. “That’s great. I, um, I should probably grab him and run.”
“Yeah, of course. Give me a minute and I’ll get all his stuff together for you. He’s in the living room with Trix and Charlotte.”
For the next few minutes, Chloe pretends everything is fine, mostly for Trixie’s benefit, even though she imagines her daughter can see her mood, with her abilities. It’s a relief when Charlotte hands Lucas back to her and Chloe can hug both her children close, pressing her nose into Trixie’s hair.
“You know I love you, right, Trix?” she whispers, her eyes burning as she thinks of the disaster dinner she and Lucifer just left. The only thing that can be said in a positive light is that it didn’t actually come to blows between the twins, although it was damn close. More than once. “And I love you and Lucas equally?”
Trixie frowns a little at her mother’s tone. Chloe imagines she sounds a bit desperate. “I know, Mommy,” she promises. “And so does Lucas. His soul gets really bright and happy when you and Lucifer hold him.”
Chloe nearly bursts into tears at that declaration, but manages to reel it in.
“And we love you, too.”
Chloe nods. “Good. Always remember that.”
Charlotte is trying to pretend she can’t hear them talking softly, but Chloe can see the worry on the other woman’s face. “You have two truly wonderful children, Chloe,” she says. “And Lucas is just the sweetest baby—both of mine were little terrors at his age.” But she’s smiling fondly.
Chloe laughs wetly. “Thank you, Charlotte. And thanks for watching him tonight.”
“Don’t mention it.” Charlotte leans a bit closer, lowering her voice. “If you need to talk...”
Nodding and covertly wiping her eyes, Chloe gives her a smile. “Thanks.”
“Okay, I think this is everything, Chloe,” Dan announces, walking back into the room with Lucas’s bag.
Turning back to Trixie, she kisses her daughter’s forehead. “Okay, you be good for your daddy and Charlotte, Monkey, and we’ll see you on Wednesday, yeah?” Though she imagines she’ll be popping over here sooner for a Trixie-fix; after tonight, she wants to spend as much time with her kids as possible. “We love you. Call if you need anything.”
“I know, Mom,” Trixie says with that exasperated eyeroll that is pure teenage-Chloe. “And I love you, too. Bye, Lucas, be good for Mom and Lucifer.” She leans in to press a kiss to her brother’s forehead. “And tell Lucifer I love him, too, okay, Mom?”
Smiling and promising to relay the message, Chloe stands and follows Dan back to the door, placing Lucas in his car seat on the counter and buckling him in. “Thank you so much for tonight, Dan. We just could not take Lucas with us.” And she is so glad Lucifer put his foot down about that.
“Don’t mention it, he’s an easy baby. Way easier than Trixie, even, and she was easy,” Dan says good-naturedly. His smile falters. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, and I won’t ask, but...if you need us to keep Trixie a little longer...”
“I’ll let you know. Right now, Lucifer just needs...” She doesn’t even know what he needs. “I think he needs it to just be us for the time being. Tonight was a lot—too much, probably. And I love having Trixie with me, but I think she might be overload for him right now.”
Dan shakes his head, waving her off. “No, I get it. Just focus on him and Lucas; I’ve got Trixie. Let me know if you need anything.”
Chloe has had her problems with Dan in the past, but there are moments, like this one right here, when she really, really loves him. “Thank you, Dan.” She gives him a brief one-armed hug. “Okay, I gotta run. I’ll let you know about keeping her longer.”
“Good luck,” he says, transferring the bag to her free shoulder. “You need help getting to the car?”
She shakes her head. “Night, Dan.”
With one last glance at Trixie in the living room with Charlotte setting up a game of Unstable Unicorns, she feels guilty for leaving one kid behind while taking another with her, especially after just telling Trixie she loves them both equally. But she’s also so glad Trixie has so many supportive, loving adults in her life to help Chloe pick up the slack.
“She’ll be fine,” Dan promises in a quiet whisper. “She gets more than either of us knows, Chloe, and she understands. And she won’t hold it against you.”
Hoping he’s right, Chloe nods and heads out into the night back towards the car where, as far as she can tell, Lucifer hasn’t moved a single inch from where she left him. He barely even reacts when she opens the backdoor to set Lucas’s car seat into its base, double-checking that it’s secure before closing the door, and jogging back around to her side.
He blinks a few times when she reaches for his hand as if only just realizing she’s there, then twists around to look at Lucas in the back. His eyes soften and he stretches out a hand to gently brush across the top of the baby's head. “He’s okay?” he murmurs.
“Absolutely fine,” Chloe assures him. “Apparently, he’s a sweet little angel who barely even fussed all evening.”
That gets the tiniest shadow of a smile from him as he nods and resettles in his seat. “And the Urchin?”
“Told me to tell you that she loves you,” she says promptly. “I think they’re about to play Unstable Unicorns, so she’s happy.”
He huffs. “Yes, anytime she gets to trounce us at that game, she does enjoy it, doesn’t she?”
Chloe laughs her agreement and backs the car out of its spot, aiming in the direction of home. “I don’t know about you,” she says after a few minutes, “but I didn’t actually get to eat anything. Hungry?”
“Not especially, no, but do feel free to stop for yourself, Detective.”
It’s the answer she expected; the only time Lucifer isn’t willing to stuff his face with food is when he’s in a particularly foul mood—and this is the foulest one she’s ever seen him in. With good reason. Nevertheless, when she stops at an In-N-Out drive-thru, she orders a burger, fries, and strawberry shake for herself, and an Animal Style burger and chocolate shake for Lucifer—he can eat later if he wants.
The only sounds in the car are the light, baby-soft snores from Lucas. Lucifer noticed them one night and hasn’t stopped teasing Chloe about how she passed on her Albanian field wench genetics to their son. As she takes a sip of her milkshake at a red light not far from Lux, Chloe sneaks a glance at Lucifer. He’s back to staring out the window, but she can see his expression in the reflection, and it’s the closest to broken as she’s ever seen him. When he insists he’s broken, she is always adamant in telling him he might be damaged, but not broken—did tonight change that?
Overall, she supposes it could have been worse. But it felt like one celestial bomb after another starting with Chloe will be a full angel one day; to Hell no longer requires a warden; to her being permitted in the Silver City and so is Lucifer, if he decides; to God refusing to tell his children he loves them; and finally, Chloe will have powers. And she doesn’t even know where to start dealing with any of it. The stuff about her...that’s much less of a priority in her eyes as opposed to everything about Lucifer.
The way God stated Hell no longer needs him sounded clear enough. In the past, a warden was required to keep demons in line and torturing damned souls; now...not so much. But is that what it means? Lucifer warned her to take everything his father says with a grain of salt due to His ‘mysterious ways bullshit’, so there could be more they don’t know. But to Chloe?
One of her biggest fears in terms of Lucifer was that one day, he might be forced to return to Hell. And when Lucas came along, that fear quadrupled, because not only would she be alone with two young children, but her son would be without his father—and a father without a son. Unwillingly, at that. It was easy for her to say, with her shiny new wings, that she would just fly down and retrieve him, but in practice, she knows it wouldn’t be that simple. Because when it comes to God and the Devil, when is it ever? She knew it was one of Lucifer’s biggest worries, too; it’s one of the reasons he signed over the entirety of his Earthly possessions to her should he be forced to leave.
And now, it sounds as if that isn’t a worry they need to even consider anymore. Which is a relief beyond belief, but what does it mean? Is Lucifer meant to do something else now that his time in Hell is over? Or will he be permitted to live his own life, with his family, which is all he wants to do?
“I would imagine that is his decision...” was the response to Chloe’s query about whether Lucifer is allowed to return to Heaven with her to visit their loved ones when the time comes. It wasn’t “The gates will never open again for you, My son”, or something equally cold, which Chloe takes to mean Lucifer’s banishment has been lifted. When did that happen? Did God just make that snap decision, or did He decide a while ago and just not tell anybody? But it would mean Lucifer isn’t left behind when she goes to visit her father or (hopefully much, much later) Trixie. He’ll get to see his friends again. Chloe is under no illusions about whether he has any interest in reuniting with his siblings.
And then there was the answer to Lucifer’s question. That broken “Dad. Do you love us?” It was the last thing Chloe ever expected him to ask after all of his insistence that he doesn’t care about receiving his father’s love or forgiveness; that he would be happy to never see the old bastard ever again. And now, she has a much better understanding of why that is. The fact that he even had to ask is heartbreaking; that is not something that should ever be a question from a child to their parents.
And yet...
With a relieved sigh, she pulls into her reserved parking space beside Lucifer’s Corvette and turns to him. His eyes are closed, but from the sad look on his face, she knows he isn’t sleeping.
“Hey, we’re home,” she says softly.
Blinking the wetness from his eyes, Lucifer takes a deep breath and nods. Immediately, he gets out and retrieves Lucas from the back, taking a moment to just look at his sleeping son, brushing his fingers along his cheek. To Chloe’s complete non-surprise, when they reach the penthouse, he goes straight for the bar, carefully depositing Lucas’s car seat on top of the piano. Chloe relieves herself of the diaper bag, their dinner, and keys, and goes straight to him, hugging him from behind as he pours a drink. He pauses, resting his hand over both of hers low on his belly.
“I’m all right, Detective,” he says quietly.
Well, that’s a lie.
“Or I will be.”
Better.
She knows it’s going to take time to recover from this, and probably several extra hours logged with Linda. “Do you want to talk?” she asks softly.
He stiffens, then turns to her, and suddenly, she’s not looking at lost-Lucifer but the King of All Things Seduction. “I can think of much better things to do with our mouths...” he says in that low voice that never fails to get a response from her.
His hands find her waist and he turns her so that her back is to the bar, then hoists her on top of it, immediately pushing her legs apart and stepping between them. His mouth finds hers and kisses her, deep and passionate. Automatically, her hands find his shoulder and hair, and she moans into his mouth, pulling him closer.
But when she doesn’t feel his arousal, she instantly remembers tonight—and she knows he’s trying to distract her. And himself.
“Lucifer,” she says against his lips. Rather than acknowledging her, he moves to her neck, a trail of hot, open-mouthed, increasingly desperate kisses moving lower. “Lucifer, stop.”
He freezes instantly, then drops his forehead to her shoulder and sighs. “Chloe. I really do not wish to talk right now.”
She nods, gently lifting his head to meet his eyes. There’s no desire or lust there; only deep, ancient sadness, hurt, and grief. “Okay. We don’t have to talk right now. Let’s just eat, watch something dumb on TV, and then we can put Lucas to bed. All right?”
Searching her eyes for something, he eventually nods. “All right,” he agrees in a whisper, kissing her again. But this is more a confirming kiss. “I’ve said it already, but thank you for being there tonight, Chloe. For having my back. I wouldn’t have gotten through this without you. Truly.”
“Always, Lucifer.” She caresses his face and he leans into it, nuzzling, his eyebrows furrowed like he’s a moment away from breaking completely. “Maybe next time you’ll remember I’m always right and not argue with me.”
That surprises a laugh out of him. “Life would be simpler that way, I’d imagine. Come along, let’s eat our burgers. I do hope you ordered them without ketchup.”
She scoffs. “Foolish condiment...”
For the next couple hours, peace is (temporarily) restored. Lucifer teases her for her tastes in television; she retaliates by throwing a fry at him. Lucas sleeps on, blissfully unaware. After they eat, he pulls her against his chest, just holding her, his nose buried in her hair. Every so often, he lets out a trembling sigh that she pretends not to hear, only because she promised to give him a reprieve for now. But she knows she has to get him to talk soon; otherwise, he’ll bottle it up—and this is not something he should bottle. They have to at least discuss that family dinner happened, if not the events therein.
“We should put him to bed,” Chloe murmurs, glancing beside them where the car seat has been placed—keeping Lucas near, but not disturbing his sleep.
“Would you mind if I did it?” Lucifer asks softly.
She looks up at him, but he only has eyes for the fledgling. “No, of course not. Give me a minute to change and say good night, then take your time with him. Okay?”
Although the Devil’s mind is whirring with a million thoughts fighting for precedence, it’s also blank. Numb. When he tries to focus on a single thing that happened this evening, everything flees to the farthest reaches of his mind as if trying to protect him from the feelings each individual thought conjures up.
And there are so many feelings...
Maze had it absolutely right when she said “feelings suck”. Lucifer couldn’t agree more, even knowing that not all feelings are bad—like the ones he has when it’s just him, Chloe, and Lucas—and the Urchin, of course, but she’s with the Douche this week.
But the rest of the time...
For as long as he can recall, he’s had what Doctor Linda calls ‘intrusive thoughts’. Unwanted, negative, involuntary thoughts that can be difficult to manage, according to his therapist. They started as far back as the Silver City, back when he was still Samael, and wondered what was wrong with him; why couldn’t he be more like his siblings, if only to make his parents happier with him? The thought that he was defective right off the angelic assembly line started quite early. And the problem was only exacerbated when he was cast into Hell—a billion-fold.
Although he’s never been outright suicidal, he has thought about ending it all. The agonizing, never-ceasing pain from his Fall is what prompted the first thought, but it snowballed after that. Over the millennia, when his thoughts turned particularly dark, he’d start thinking of ways—after all, who would miss him? His family hated him, assuming they thought enough of him to hate him. And he’s the original villain in humanity’s eyes, the monster they all cower and run from; the scapegoat (“The Devil made me do it.” If Lucifer ever finds out who first said those words...).
What redeeming value does the Devil, Heaven and Earth’s number one most-hated in all of history have?
Of course, being immortal and invulnerable, options for utter self-destruction were few and far between, so he turned to drink and drugs and sex for distraction when it got bad.
It all changed when he met Chloe, though. Suddenly, there seemed to be a reason to continue on, because there was one person who truly cared about him. Who saw good in him where he couldn’t even see it in himself. There have only been two times since meeting his Detective when the intrusive thoughts returned with a vengeance—the first was when Lucifer killed Uriel.
To this day, he doesn’t recall tracking Chloe down at that hospital where she was chasing the sniper. All he remembers is the constant stream of his inner voices hissing at him that he’s a monster, that he’s evil, that he’s poison and ruins everything he touches...that everyone would be better off without him. Then suddenly, he’s standing in a hospital atrium (“I know you’re out there, Mister Sniper!”), because he remembered that Chloe makes him vulnerable—and this was his chance. Even then, he knew it would only send him back to Hell, but what did he care?
Fortunately, Chloe brought down the sniper, then tried to take Lucifer to task for his behavior. But he was too far gone, drowning in grief and guilt, to do anything but snap and hurt her.
The second time was in Cain’s factory after Chloe had been abducted. During Lucifer’s fight with the immortal cockroach, they heard a gunshot and turned to find Chloe there. For the briefest of seconds, all Lucifer could feel was relief that she was unharmed and safe. Then it all turned to shit when he realized the bullet he heard being fired had hit her. He held her body in his arms as her soul left it, and he had never felt emptier, or more broken and lost. All he wanted in that moment was to join her wherever she was, but as he knew she likely would have gone to the Silver City, having his own soul snuffed out of existence would do just fine, thanks.
Since then, though, he’s barely had dark thoughts, let alone the truly harmful ones. He doesn’t want to die; he has so many reasons to live—Chloe, Trixie, Lucas, their friends, and this life he’s managed to carve out for himself that is so full of laughter and love he sometimes feels he’s going to burst at the seams from it all. He’ll never tell Chloe the depth of these thoughts, because he knows it will hurt her to know how low he’s gotten in his life. But that just means she’ll never truly understand how she saved him and brought him back from a brink he never thought he’d escape.
Now, he has a son to raise. He has people who love him and accept him, and never ask anything of him in return for everything they offer so freely and unconditionally. And apparently, at least according to the Almighty Bastard, he’ll get to see them again after they die.
Now that is truly a mindfuck.
Looking down at his son now, curled up in his arms and looking back at him with eyes identical to his mother’s, Lucifer can’t imagine ever needing anything else. He has everything he needs right here in his penthouse, everything that fulfills him and gives him a purpose that matters.
Lucifer didn’t know, let alone understand, that a person could be this happy with family—real family, not the one with whom he and Chloe just had dinner. That he could wake up every morning with a smile on his lips and jump right into taking care of the children, spending his days laughing and teasing Chloe, cooking dinner for his loved ones, then going to bed with the same woman every night—and feel nothing but eagerness to do it all again the next day, then every day for the rest of his life. The thought that he prefers board game nights and cuddling on the couch with Chloe to spending hours partying in Lux should be laughable, and yet...
And he certainly didn’t know that he could be so deeply in love with a tiny, speechless creature he’s only known for a month. That every time he looks into his son’s eyes, he can see not what he missed out on or everything that went wrong in his own early life, but all sorts of future possibilities. Fatherhood, while as occasionally challenging as everyone warned him it could be, has been the best thing he’s ever done—aside, of course, from telling Chloe Decker that he’s madly, insatiably in love with her.
The young fledgling in his arms is utterly reliant on his parents for everything from feedings and diaper changes to protection, and Lucifer is more than willing to provide all that, and more. He can’t imagine a day ever going by without ensuring that Lucas, and Trixie, knows with an absolute certainty that they are well-loved and always will be.
He doesn’t exactly know what prompted that question to his father. Only that, in the moment, it was the only thing that came to mind—and the only thing that mattered. He should have known better, of course; not once in his entire existence did his father ever tell His children that they were loved. In fact, the first time either of his parents said it was when it came from his mother’s lips when She broke out of Hell and came to Earth. Had they simply expected their children to instinctively know?
Lucifer scoffs. Clearly God had: “If I have to answer that...then I really have failed.”
Well, no shit, Dad...
Honestly, how Amenadiel could defend Him after that...
“You will never have to question my or your mother's love for you, Lucas John Morningstar,” Lucifer murmurs, one of his son’s hands curled around his father’s fingers. “You will never have to fight your sister for our affection, or our time. Perhaps we may not always get it right—me, especially—but we’ll always do our best.” Lucas’s response is to stuff a finger up Lucifer’s nostril, making the Devil laugh. “Yes, I know, you don’t even understand what I’m saying; I could be reciting the phonebook for all you know...but it doesn’t matter. You are loved, Lucas. Now and forever.”
Lucas lets out one of those adorable baby yawns.
“And I’m boring you again... Right, then. How about something you actually enjoy, hmm?” Clearing his throat softly, he begins to sing the song he sang to Lucas the day he was born, and a dozen times since.
“Close your eyes
Have no fear
The monster's gone
He's on the run
And your daddy's here...”
An hour later, Lucifer finally puts Lucas in the bassinet in his and Chloe’s bedroom. He considered putting him in the nursery in the hopes he and Chloe could have a bit of interpersonal time later, but...well. Lucifer doesn’t want his son that far away from him tonight. He’s a little surprised to not find Chloe in the sitting room, but a quick check reveals she’s on the balcony, probably to give him and Lucas some time alone together.
“Mind if I join you?”
She just smiles and drops her legs from the loveseat where she’s sitting, offering him the glass of whiskey she’s poured for him. “Did you get him down okay?”
Lucifer nods into his drink, then sets it aside in favor of tugging her against him, wrapping her in his arms. “I did. Our son is sleeping like a baby angel—one who snores like his mother.”
She lightly slaps him on the chest and laughs, making him smile; that was the reaction he’d been aiming for. “I wanted to ask your opinion on something—about Lucas,” Chloe says hesitantly. Lucifer lifts a questioning eyebrow. “You said something earlier tonight at...at dinner.”
He scoffs. “Darling, I said many things tonight.”
“True. But you mentioned that Lucas isn’t entirely comfortable around people he doesn’t know.”
“Well, yes, but that was mostly a dig towards my father.”
She shakes her head. “Maybe, but you were right. For all we joke about him being a flirt, he doesn’t let anyone but family hold him for more than a minute or two without getting fussy and upset. And if he can’t see one of us, he cries. Which, admittedly, could just be a baby being a baby.”
His eyebrows furrow. “What are you getting at, Detective?”
Sitting up a little, she turns to face him. “What do you think is the probability that, like Trixie, Lucas can see souls?” she asks quietly. And he can’t help smiling at the tone of her voice—it’s her excited “I’ve found this piece of evidence and am forming a theory to reach a valid conclusion in the case” tone.
He thinks about the day he took Lucas down to Lux. The baby had made his big eyes and reached for the ladies, but the moment anybody but Lucifer tried to pick him up, playtime was over and he got fussy and started whining—until he was back in his father’s arms. And as Chloe said, that could simply be typical baby behavior, but...
“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever met anybody who could soul-see that young. In fact, Trixie is the youngest I’ve ever known,” he says slowly. “I don’t even know what it would look like to Lucas if he could. Perhaps, assuming your theory is correct, he’s already learned to distinguish between the different shades of souls—who his family is versus those on the outside. Huh. I suppose...it’s possible. And with him being an angel, that could even develop into something more as he grows older—his angelic power, if you will.”
“I mean, he’s only a month old, so I could be reading this entirely wrong,” Chloe tries to dismiss.
“But you forget, Detective, that celestials develop differently than humans. He’ll likely grow at a physically normal rate, and his emotional and psychological functions may be...delayed, only due to his much longer lifespan—it takes time to settle into that. But as far as abilities go? We’ve no idea when those will set in for Lucas—or Emily, for that matter—or when they will develop wings. Then you throw something like self-actualization into the mix and who knows what’s possible?”
Chloe’s expression darkens. “I can think of one person,” she mutters under her breath.
Lucifer scoffs. “Yes, well. As you saw tonight, He’ll dodge every attempt you make to ask for details.”
She studies him for a moment, and Lucifer knows what’s coming before she even speaks. “Are you ready to talk about it?”
“What’s to talk about?” he scoffs. “The fact that my father doesn’t love us? That isn’t news, Detective.”
“Maybe not...” she says slowly. “But there were plenty of other things that were news. About Hell. And Heaven.”
He blows out a breath sharply. “Right. That.” He reaches for his drink. “Honestly, Chloe, I don’t know what to make of any of it. I spent so long in Hell that all I really, clearly remember of the Silver City are the last few days I was there, and that was as bad as Hell for me. The idea that I could return...I’ve not considered it for billions of years.”
“But knowing that you could, I would never ask you to if you didn’t want to—but would you? Want to?”
Eyes drifting towards the sky, towards the Heavens, he thinks. The only drawing force behind any desire to return would be the friends he’s made here on Earth. He doesn’t imagine his siblings would be keen on seeing him, much less inviting him back with open arms, but the humans he’s known are another story. And he imagines there will come a time when Chloe will want to spend increasing amounts there, not that he could blame her.
“I would be willing to consider the idea—so long as you were with me,” he says carefully, dragging his gaze back to her. “Would I wish to go back alone? Absolutely not. Not after the last time.”
Chloe nods as if that’s the answer she expected. “I wouldn’t want to go without you, either. Like, I was imagining going up there, to see my dad or something, and taking Amenadiel with me.” She makes a face that pulls a laugh from Lucifer. “Because somehow I doubt you’d have let me go alone until you knew how your siblings would react.” She’s not wrong, there. “And that isn’t something I’d want to share with your brother; it’s something I want to share with you, my partner. Besides, Dad said in his letter that he wants to meet you.”
Lucifer grimaces. “I’ll take ‘Words That Strike Fear in the Heart of the Devil’ for a thousand, please, Alex...” Chloe laughs. “Seriously. I have never had to meet somebody’s father before.”
“He’s not that scary,” she chides, rolling her eyes.
“Well, no, of course not to you, Detective, he likes you. I can’t imagine any father being pleased when his daughter brings home the Devil to meet him.”
She gives him a look. “He already knows who you are after whatever you wrote to him initially, Lucifer, and he seemed pretty pleased that I’d found someone who loves me as much as you do; once he gets over the initial weirdness of it all, he’ll love you—as much as I do.”
Lucifer smirks. “I hope not as much as you do, darling. I’ve no problem being with a man, but aside from being a one-woman Devil now, I’m not sure you’d touch me after sleeping with your father.”
“Ew! That is so not what I meant, Lucifer!” She shudders and gags, and slaps Lucifer in the shoulder—which only makes him burst out laughing. “So gross...”
But he’s enjoying this far too much. “Although...the photographs I’ve seen of him...he’s not bad looking. Which, of course not, he passed those looks onto his gorgeous daughter.”
“Okay, stop!” she says, forcefully shoving him away. He barely twitches, then shoots her a look of pure mischief. “You’re such an ass.”
He hums, leaning towards her. “Yes, but you love me. And my exceptionally tight, toned arse.”
“Keep telling yourself that, pal,” she says dryly, but she’s starting to smile. “I do, though. I love you, and your arse, very much.”
“As we love you, darling.” He kisses her briefly. “But seriously...back to your original question. Given Michael’s response to Dad’s little revelation, I can’t imagine my siblings will be thrilled to have me in their midst again. And while Michael is quite an extreme case, you will be guilty by association.”
She raises an eyebrow, challenging. “And? I dare them to try something with me. I went up against God tonight; what are a couple of angels going to do?”
“Yes, you did,” he says, pride and warmth, and a dozen other feelings spreading through him at the recollection of her taking his father to task. “Beautifully and fearlessly done, might I add.”
Although, he’d never been more petrified than right at that moment that Chloe was about to get smited, guarantees of safety or not.
Her expression changes, eyes darting between both of his as she psyches herself up for her next question. “And, um, I won’t ask how you’re doing after what your dad said to your question, because I think I already know.” He averts his eyes, pain shooting through him he hadn’t known he could feel in terms of his father anymore. “I just wanted to say...I’m so proud of you, Lucifer, for everything tonight. From defending yourself and me from Michael's bullshit to asking that question, to protecting Lucas even though he wasn’t there. And I never, ever want you to doubt that you are a million, billion times the father that yours could ever dream of being.”
His lips part at her words, eyes stinging. “Chloe...”
“I mean it,” she says fiercely. “And yeah, I know it’s only been a month, but even before he was born, you did everything right—you took care of us and made sure I took care of myself. You built an incredible nursery from scratch. You never hesitate to get up in the middle of the night when he cries, and while you could do it a little less when you know he just wants attention—”
“I don’t ever want him to feel upset or scared,” he tries to explain.
“Exactly. No matter how scared you were going into all of this, how uncertain of your abilities...Lucifer, you’re doing so well, and I am so impressed.” She reaches up to brush away a stray tear that falls from his eye. “And you’re only going to get better as Lucas gets older. He will never doubt or question that he’s loved by you, because you tell him all the time—and you mean it.”
“Well, of course I do,” he says incredulously. “He's my son.”
She smiles. “And that is what a great father is supposed to sound like, right there. Your dad could learn from you—not that I think He would, just that He could.” Lucifer huffs his agreement. “You want to hear what Trixie told me tonight when we picked up Lucas from Dan’s?” He tilts his head in question. “She said that when you or I hold him, his soul gets really bright and happy. And that is how she knows he loves us.”
All the breath rushes out of Lucifer, his eyes looking from Chloe to the bedroom wall, trying to X-ray vision his way to his son. “She said that?” he asks weakly.
Chloe nods, looking as touched as he feels. “Yep. And if Lucas can already tell, at one month old, you’re doing everything right. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“Bloody hell...” He laughs softly in amazement. “That’s incredible.”
He’s wondered once or twice what the world looks like from Lucas’s perspective, all these larger, scary people constantly in his space with expressions he can’t yet comprehend—does he fear he’s about to be eaten alive? Does he think they’re all being ridiculous? Does he even care? Can he feel how much his family cares for and loves him?
Well, here’s his answer.
“That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, it is,” Chloe whispers, resting her head on his shoulder.
After a few minutes of wonder and awe, and wondering what Lucas feels for them in return, Lucifer’s thoughts turn to the things said this evening in regards to Chloe. “And how are you doing with all of this, love? There was quite a bit thrown in your direction, as well.”
She scoffs. “You mean, the part where that day in the warehouse wasn’t supposed to happen, or how me being an angel was ‘ahead of schedule’, or how I’m going to get powers?”
“I was thinking all the above...”
“It kind of makes me outrageously happy knowing we’ve apparently knocked your dad’s plans off track,” she says, looking at him with a mischievous grin. Lucifer laughs, nodding in agreement. “And it makes me wonder what was supposed to happen instead. Because without that day, I wouldn’t have found out you’re the Devil. At least, not then.”
Lucifer’s amusement wanes. She would have continued to date Cain, pushing Lucifer further and further away until...what? She came to her senses? Until Lucifer finally came clean? Either way, that would have been truly awful.
“None of this would have happened,” he says with mounting horror.
“Maybe not this soon, but something tells me that, no matter what, you and I always would have found each other,” she says confidently. “And I have no idea what that other timeline is supposed to look like, but you know what? I really like the one we’re in.”
He nods. “Yes,” he breathes, leaning towards her. “As do I.”
He kisses her, slowly, just to show his gratitude and his love for this beautiful woman who has remained by his side through so many ups and downs. So many instances when she would have been completely justified in throwing her hands up, then washing them of the Devil who couldn’t seem to get his shit together. Chloe has put up with more from him in three years than most other people have in entire lifetimes, and she’s done so with grace, and forgiveness, and not a small amount of love.
“I know what my life looks like without you, Chloe Decker, and I never want to live that way again,” he murmurs against her lips.
She smiles sweetly. “Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t agree more.
Notes:
There will be a bit of a break from the angst for a few chapters. Hope everyone is enjoying so far. Thanks for reading, commenting and/or leaving kudos. 😊
I'll post the update for Snowed In with the Devil later today!
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Trigger Warning: Lucifer recalls moments in the past when his thoughts turned especially dark and he considered complete self-destruction.
Chapter 17: Come What May
Notes:
Warning for a bit of interpersonal Deckerstar time towards the end of the chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
In the few days following the family dinner from Hell, as Lucifer has begun calling it in his head, there has been radio silence from Amenadiel and their father. He doesn’t know if they’re giving him time to cool off, or if he’s finally managed to drive home the message that he wants nothing to do with any of them—or if they’re just biding their time.
And he doesn’t care.
As badly as it hurt to have his father essentially say that He doesn’t love His children, Lucifer has decided he doesn’t need his father’s love, because he has Chloe’s, and Lucas’s, and Trixie’s, and they are who matter most. He is under no illusions that he’s done dealing with his father, though, not really. Dad was never good at letting anybody, least of all Lucifer, have the last word—and that not so little implied threat about seeing Lucas before He leaves Earth hadn’t gone unnoticed by Lucifer, or Chloe, for that matter. But after the disaster at dinner, Lucifer is more determined than ever to keep his child away from his celestial family.
In the meantime, now that Trixie has returned from Daniel’s, there is never a dull moment in the penthouse. Between a crying baby (Lucas woke up yesterday morning on the wrong side of the bassinet, and hasn’t stopped yet) and a pre-teen, who seems to have been fed nothing but sugar whilst at her father’s, there hasn’t been a moment’s peace for Chloe or Lucifer.
The Devil is doing laps around the penthouse, a screaming fledgling in his arms, and doing everything he can to soothe his son’s tears. That Lucas can’t simply tell his parents what’s wrong makes it quite difficult to work out the correct thing to do; though Trixie, when Chloe thought to ask, said that Lucas’s soul looks normal, just...“cloudy”. They aren’t entirely certain what to make of that, except that only Lucas knows what the real problem is. Chloe thought he felt a bit warm earlier, though not even she could distinguish whether that’s because something is wrong or if it’s just because he’s worked himself into a state that drove up his core body temperature.
“If he isn’t feeling better in a couple days, or if he gets worse, then we’ll take him to see the pediatrician,” Chloe says, over the shrill sounds of her son. “I think he just worked himself up, and now, can’t bring himself down.”
Lucifer nods knowingly. “Hmm. I’ve had that high before.” Chloe gives him a look. “You’re absolutely certain it’s nothing to be concerned about?”
“Babies cry, Lucifer,” she reminds him patiently, and not for the first time. “And as easy as we’ve had it with Lucas so far, it’s bound to happen at some point. We’ll keep an eye on him, but he isn’t coughing, he doesn’t have a runny nose, and his temperature is, more or less, normal—it’s under a hundred, anyway; we should only really start to worry when it hits 100.4 or above.”
Sighing, and never feeling more helpless, Lucifer rubs his son’s back, wishing he could take away whatever is bothering him. He presses his lips to Lucas’s forehead. “There, there, Gremlin, it’s all right. Honestly, it’s not that bad. I hope,” he adds under his breath.
Chloe, in turn, rubs the Devil’s back. “We’re doing everything we can for him,” she says softly, her hand cupping the baby’s head. “I’d say he’s teething, but he’s way too young for that, yet.”
“Did I cry this much when I was a baby, Mom?” Trixie asks over the noise.
Chloe scoffs and smirks. “Monkey, you were worse. Your dad and I barely got a wink of sleep for the first few months after you were born. And when you got mad about something, you let the entire city know.”
Trixie looks smug about that fact. “We should give Lucas an animal nickname.”
“I think ‘Gremlin’ fits quite well, thank you,” Lucifer sniffs, resuming his laps.
“Yeah, but I have two nicknames—Urchin and Monkey. So should Lucas.”
Chloe smiles indulgently. “What do you suggest, Monkey?”
Tilting her head and looking at her brother, eyes narrowed in thought, Trixie hums. “He really likes ducks! I mean, the ducky pacifier is his favorite, and he’s always reaching for Lucifer’s stuffed duck.”
“Her name is Detective Quacker,” he says with as much dignity as he can muster.
Trixie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that. And he really likes bathtime and water. Maybe Duckling, since that’s what a baby duck is.”
Chloe and Lucifer look at each other, then their son, then smile in unison.
And that’s the story of how Lucas got a new nickname. Duckling.
Unfortunately, the peace was never going to last.
On Friday morning, at Lucifer’s insistence, Chloe makes an appointment with Lucas’s pediatrician. Lucifer has barely put the baby down in two days, refusing to leave him alone even in the bassinet in their room. In fact, the Devil hasn’t slept since Lucas’s crying began. Instead, he lets Chloe and Trixie sleep and, after club hours, takes Lucas down to Lux, letting the boy scream all he desires without keeping the rest of the household awake at all hours of the night. And while it was nice to get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, it has left Chloe feeling insanely guilty, knowing Lucifer is sacrificing his own rest for them.
So she made the appointment without complaint; at least this way, if something is wrong, they’ll know and they can get it taken care of. And if nothing’s wrong, and Lucas is just going through a phase and in a bad mood, maybe Lucifer will let her take a turn comforting their son at night so he can get some sleep.
As it turns out, Lucas has a very minor ear infection, just the beginning of one, the doctor told them, and is otherwise a perfectly healthy little boy. They’re given a prescription for an antibiotic and told if it gets worse to make another appointment.
“Well, I suppose this answers the invulnerable question,” Lucifer says dryly as they leave the office. “Perhaps that particular ability simply hasn’t kicked in yet...”
“And now we know what’s wrong, and we can help him,” Chloe says, relieved.
She feels awful for her son, but he didn’t have any of the usual symptoms—the ones Trixie had as a baby with an ear infection; she couldn’t have known. Or so she tries to tell herself. Easier said than done, it seems. In fact, the only symptoms Lucas has are the crying and a slightly elevated temperature.
Lucifer reads her too well sometimes. “Darling, you didn’t know,” he says gently as he sets the car seat in the back of Chloe’s car. “You did the best with what information was provided to you.”
“Maybe,” she mutters, getting into the driver’s side. “But I’m the one who keeps saying ‘I’ve been through this before, I know how it works’. And I missed an ear infection.”
“Well, it isn’t as though he can communicate with us to tell us where it hurts, is it?” Lucifer says reasonably. “We aren’t mind readers, for Dad’s sake. The best we had to go on was the Urchin’s ‘cloudy’ description, and I simply assumed that meant he was upset.”
Grimacing, Chloe drives them to the pharmacy and they head back to Lux. Lucas fell asleep on the drive home, finally, and they both breathed a sigh of relief.
Why don’t you take him up, love? I’m just going to pop into Lux for a tick and check on things. I’ll be right behind you, Lucifer prays so as to not wake the baby again.
She nods, tilting her head back for a brief kiss and heads towards the elevator.
Lucifer watches them go and sighs, running a hand across his face. Much as he would love to just drop into bed and sleep for the next few days, he knows that is an impossibility. He’s just relieved that Lucas will get some relief, once the medication starts to kick in. And he’s starting to understand why parents say they would take on their child’s pain as their own; it’s pure torture watching one’s child suffer and to not know why or what to do about it.
Shaking himself, he starts towards the staircase to have a quick chat with Patrick—
And stops cold at the sight that meets him. Amenadiel is sitting at the bar. With their father. “Oh, you have got to be joking,” he growls under his breath. He considers just turning around and going upstairs with Chloe and Lucas, but doesn’t want to tempt his father or brother into following.
Realizing he doesn’t have a choice, he snarls silently, and slowly makes his way down the stairs. “What do you want?” he asks evenly, not looking at either of them as he passes.
“Luci! We’ve been waiting for you to get back,” Amenadiel says, smiling.
“The Detective and I had an errand to run,” Lucifer says dismissively, heading behind the bar. If he’s to be forced to endure his father’s Presence, he’ll damn well be drinking.
Detective, just a heads-up, I’ll be slightly delayed. It would seem my brother and father have decided to pay a visit.
Are you okay? Do you need me?
He smiles to himself. Always, Chloe. But I’m quite all right. Stay with Lucas, love.
Okay. If you change your mind... I love you.
And I, you
“And how is young Lucas?” Dad asks.
Suppressing a snarl (just barely), Lucifer turns to lean against the bar. “He’s fine,” he says shortly.
Or he will be, once the medication kicks in...
Amenadiel sighs. “Luci, you don’t have to be that way.”
“Don’t I?” Lucifer says indignantly. “I’m sorry, did you go to some other family dinner from the rest of us, brother? Because as I recall, the one I attended was a bloody nightmare.”
“And whose fault was that?” Amenadiel asks pointedly.
“Uh...” Lucifer looks towards his father.
“Now, now, children,” Dad says in that annoying, fatherly tone that He never once used in the Silver City. “Amenadiel, Sam—Lucifer is welcome to his opinions.”
Lucifer barks an incredulous laugh. “Oh, am I now? Since when? The last time I had an opinion, I was yeeted out of the Silver City before I could blink.”
His father’s mouth tightens. “Nevertheless... Amenadiel and I are here because I have an announcement to make. And I wish for the two of you to be the first to hear it.”
“Going back to the Silver City, are You? Bon voyage, see You never,” Lucifer says, downing his drink and starting for the stairs.
“Actually, son...”
Bloody hell...
He stops at the foot of the stairs, resting his hand on the banister, taking a deep, fortifying breath before turning, a forced polite, impatient expression on his face. “Fine. What is it, Dad?”
Dad looks between His two sons and Lucifer swears He’s doing it for dramatic effect. Honestly, it can't really be that big of a—
“I’m retiring.”
Or it is a big deal...
“Say that again?” Lucifer is fairly sure his heart just stopped beating. He glances at Amenadiel, wondering if his brother had been aware of this little catastrophe waiting to happen and just didn’t warn Lucifer—again. But...nope, it looks like the Eldest is just as out of the loop.
“Father, what do You mean, You’re retiring?”
“I think that it is time I take a step back, to let My creation, and My children, walk on their own two feet.”
“Oh, You mean the way we’ve been bloody doing this whole time?” Lucifer asks indignantly. “You’ve been You knows where for eons, and now is when You decide to ‘step back’? And what about, you know, being God? Who exactly is going to fill those particular socks with sandals?”
Dad smiles benignly at them. “I have come to realize that perhaps I do not understand humans as well as I previously believed,” He says as if they’re simply discussing the weather—as opposed to the literal ruling of the entire universe. “The two of you have been residing on Earth for some time, now, and thriving with families of your own—and I could not be prouder.”
Amenadiel puffs out his chest, looking like a little boy who’s been patted on the head and awarded a gold star in putting his toys away. He couldn’t look smugger.
Lucifer, on the other hand, is furious. “Oh, no,” he says quietly, the calm tone coming out of his mouth masking the fact that he wants nothing more than to punch his father in the face.
“Lucifer?” Dad says, bemused.
He takes a step closer, but remains careful to remain out of range completely. Not that He couldn’t simply snap His fingers if He decides to end Lucifer. “After all You’ve done, You do not simply get to claim pride in a single damned thing that I have done, especially recently. Everything that I have, I’ve built on my own—from Hell, to Lux, to my family. It is all mine, Dad. You haven’t lifted a finger to help me since You had Michael throw me over the City’s edge.”
Dad’s eyebrows furrow. “Haven’t I? I brought you back after Malcolm shot you.”
“Do You know, I’m not entirely sure that You did,” Lucifer says thoughtfully. “I have been on my own for eons, and all I asked You to do was to protect Chloe. Once I was in Hell...well, I was out of Your reach, wasn’t I?”
He’d thought about it the night of family dinner, while Chloe and Lucas slept. How the only thought in his head that night in the hangar was Chloe, even when he was in Hell. He was terrified that Malcolm would find and kill her and the Urchin. Yes, he’d gotten a bit distracted when he found Mum’s door wide open, but otherwise, it was The CDN in his head—The Chloe Decker Network.
At the time, he hadn’t known about self-actualization. He didn’t know that he could regrow his own wings or regain his old Lightbringer powers. He didn’t know he could do a lot of things. Like, take himself back to the one place he most needed, and wanted, to be—to Chloe.
“I self-actualized myself back into my body, even without my wings. Didn’t I, Dad?” He already knows the answer—can feel it in his soul. His father never did a damn thing for him. Except put Chloe Decker in his path, Lucifer will give Him that much.
Dad watches him for a moment, His expression inscrutable while Amenadiel looks between them as if he’s simply waiting to break up a fight. But Lucifer doesn’t want to fight; he’s tired of fighting everyone. He just wants to go back to his family.
“Yes. You did.”
Amenadiel’s jaw drops. “How?” He’s asking his father, but Lucifer answers.
“Because I am the Will and the Lightbringer, brother,” he says quietly. “I am Desire Incarnate. And in that moment, I never desired anything more than to protect Chloe Decker.”
Their father has that look of pride again. “I showed you that your mother’s door was open.”
Lucifer shakes his head. “Hell did that. It alerts me when there is trouble in the realm, when I’m on the Infernal plane, that is—which You would know, if You had any understanding of the place.”
“Of course He understands it, Luci! Father sees and knows all.”
The Devil looks at God, tilting his head in question. “Is he right, Dad?”
Dad turns to look at Amenadiel. “My omniscience does not grant Me vision into the Infernal plane. I have a vague notion of certain events, but overall, it is lost to Me.”
Lucifer’s stomach lurches. He had his suspicions, but to have it confirmed... After all, why else would his father not intervene? Aside from being a colossal asshole, of course.
Amenadiel shakes his head, looking astonished and confused. “I don’t understand, how is that possible?”
“It was not My realm but Lucifer’s. While he was there, I could not see him. It is why I asked you, Amenadiel, to keep an eye on him.”
“And I did, Father,” Amenadiel says earnestly, as if expecting more praise. “I returned him to Hell when he left, just as You asked.”
Dad tilts His head. Lucifer hates that it's a mirror image of his own mannerism. “Is that what I asked?”
Lucifer looks sharply at his eldest brother, cold dread trickling down his spine. “Amenadiel?”
The eldest furrows his eyebrows as though he’s trying to remember...and promptly blanches, looking between his father and his brother. “I...”
“You what?” Lucifer growls. “What were your orders?”
Dad answers when Amenadiel doesn’t. “To watch over you and keep you out of trouble.”
“So, not to return me to Hell?” Lucifer double-checks. Nobody answers, which is as good as confirmation. “Oh, well, that’s just bloody brilliant. Thank you for that, Amenadiel.”
His brother stutters and stammers, shaking his head.
“Bloody unbelievable...”
Though, really, it isn’t. It isn’t at all difficult to imagine Amenadiel misconstruing their father’s request to fit his own desires. And apparently, Amenadiel desired to spend millennia chasing down his wayward little brother, and occasionally beating him into submission before sending him limping back to Hell.
“Since You seem to be in a sharing mood for the first time in...well, ever... There is something I would like to know, Dad, and then if it’s all the same, I’ve had quite enough of the pair of you for the next millennium.”
Dad nods his head once. “Ask, son.”
Does he really want the answer to this one, though? It was actually Linda’s question, something she asked him over a year ago around the time he and Chloe had gotten together. Lucifer had put the question down to nonsense and forcefully pushed it from his mind, because the possibilities were too painful.
“My siblings and I...we’ve always had free will. Haven’t we?”
And there’s that bloody proud smile on the bastard’s face again. “Which is why I could not give you what you asked for, son.”
Even Amenadiel looks floored. “What?”
“So—” Lucifer clears his choked voice, willing himself to keep it together until he gets back to Chloe. “All of it. My ‘rebellion’, casting me out, my banishment... It was for nothing?”
Finally, a reaction that isn’t that stupid benign smile or false pride. Sadness flickers across Dad’s face. “If you continued down the path on which you’d started, Lucifer, many would have been hurt. Some would have lost their lives. And I could not allow that.”
Lucifer scoffs. “I never would have harmed anybody,” he protests vehemently. “What happened to Michael’s wing was an accident, and that was the only time I hurt anybody in the Silver City—and You know it, Dad.”
“I do. But I did not say that you would have done the hurting, son.”
“And once again... Here I am, taking the blame and the literal Fall for what others may or may not do. Well, that’s just the theme in my life now, isn’t it?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “You know...I spent eon after eon believing myself to be a monster. Recently, the people I love have begun to convince me that I am not, nor have I ever been one—and they’re right. You’re the monster, Dad. It’s always been You.
“You threw me away like I never meant a thing to You, never once checked up on me. Allowed me to become the villain through all of human history. You let Amenadiel believe Your orders were to beat me back to Hell, and when that didn’t work, You let him resurrect an insane human to do his dirty work. Then, You let him think You were punishing him, when really, he was punishing himself. You let Mum run rampant, and Uriel went completely off the plot until I had no choice but to end it. You let me believe I was being punished with my wings. Chloe has gone through an entire angelic transformation without so much as a by your leave. And Remiel tried to take not only my child but Amenadiel’s, as well. And Michael...” He scoffs again.
“Like I said the other night, the one thing we have in common is how badly You’ve screwed us all up. And now You’ve decided the solution is to, what? Just walk away? Well, enjoy Florida, Dad, or wherever You go. Just ensure whomever takes Your place knows that Chloe and I are allowed to visit her family once in a while—I won’t let You take that away from her. If You’ll excuse me, I’ve a sick son to tend to.”
He doesn’t bother waiting for either of them to respond, and ignores Amenadiel’s attempts to call him back. He’s had enough. Too much, too quickly...
Chloe is on the couch when he enters the penthouse, no sign of Lucas. On the way up, Lucifer checked the NannyCam app for the camera he installed in his son’s bedroom. It was the best baby monitor on the market, and this way, he and Chloe don’t have to carry around another device when they want to check on their son. He saw Chloe put him in his crib, and he’s fast asleep—hopefully, starting to feel better. At least he’ll remain blissfully unaware of his father’s inevitable breakdown.
His Detective is on her feet the moment the doors open, looking him over as though checking for injuries. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly, reaching for his hands.
Lucifer lifts her hands to his lips, kissing each one, then bypasses her for the moment. He goes to the bar and pours a whiskey for himself and a wine for Chloe. Lucas has enough milk so that her celestial metabolism can process half a glass of wine before he needs more—and Lucifer is sure Chloe will need liquor shortly. When he starts to think about everything that was just said downstairs, though, no words come out. Only a manic giggle. Because all of a sudden...it’s all the funniest thing he’s ever heard. If he doesn’t laugh, he’ll cry; he’s cried enough lately.
“Lucifer?” Chloe says, approaching cautiously and eyeing him worriedly. “What’s going on?”
He knows he should explain, and he hates worrying her, but...he just can’t stop this hysterical laughter long enough to get the words out. How is this his life right now? Nothing makes sense, everything feels like a lie—well, everything except Chloe herself, that is.
The rest of it, though?
Lucifer. Talk to me. Do I need to call Linda?
Oh, he really is worrying her, isn’t he? He manages a head shake as he tries to calm himself down, gripping the edge of the bar to keep from falling on his face as he doubles over, tears falling from his eyes as he laughs and laughs. He feels Chloe’s hand on his shoulder as she rubs soothing circles, but not even that breaks him out of it.
It goes on for a good ten to fifteen minutes, when he’s finally down to giggles and snickers. Heart racing and his chest heaving, he wipes his eyes and turns to Chloe. Her eyes are full of concern, uncertainty, and a little bit of fear—but even he knows it’s more for him than of him.
“Better?” she asks cautiously.
He lets out a final chuckle and nods. “Yes, my apologies, Detective. I’m not entirely certain where that came from...”
“You’ve been under a lot of stress,” she says understandingly. “I kind of thought there would be a break somewhere, though I can’t say hysterical laughter was how I thought it would manifest. I would have guessed throwing something at the wall or punching a hole in something.”
Running a hand through his hair, he reaches for her, and she comes willingly, pressing her palms to his chest. “I’m sorry if I frightened you, Detective.”
She shakes her head. “Only because I didn’t know what was happening—still don’t, by the way, so an explanation would be wonderful at any point now. I was afraid your father did something to you. He didn’t, did He?” She looks about ready to go retrieve her Hell-forged bullets or sword to test out whether they work on God.
Lucifer shakes his head. “Not in the way you’re thinking, no. It was just a chat. Bloody awful one, at that.”
“What happened?”
Sighing, he releases her with one hand and grabs the nearest bottle, not bothering with a glass, then leads her out onto the balcony. “Lucas is okay?”
She nods. “Still sleeping. He woke up long enough so I could give him his medicine; I put him in the nursery, because I didn’t know who was downstairs or if they were planning to come up here.”
“Good. And I don’t believe they’ll dare at this point.” Chloe’s eyes widen. “So, as it turns out...Dad has decided to retire. What that means precisely, I don’t know, we got a bit sidetracked. He said something about leaving the job to His children, and mentioned myself and Amenadiel specifically when asked who would take over. And I cannot stress enough how very uninterested I would be to have that particular job title. I had enough ruling in Hell, thank you.”
Chloe holds her hand up to stop him. “I’m sorry, God is retiring? Does that...mean the world is coming to an end?”
Lucifer smiles kindly. “No, Detective, of course not. The way He makes it sound, it’s as though He’s passing along the reins to someone else—like the universe is a family heirloom, passed along from one generation to the next. Bloody absurd.”
“I...I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“You and me both, darling. But that got derailed when the old bastard had the audacity to say He was proud of us. That was about the point I rather lost it.”
Chloe’s jaw drops. “He’s proud of you?” she asks skeptically. “For what, exactly?”
He scoffs. “Who cares. It’s rubbish, anyway, I’ve done everything on my bloody own since the day He cast me out. Everything that I have now, I earned—nearly died getting it, too, more than once. I came to a realization the other night, Detective, one that I just now had confirmed for me.”
“What’s that?”
“I imagine you’ll recall me telling you about the deal I made with Dad when Malcolm shot me?”
She gives him a look. “Uh, yeah, hard to forget.”
He ignores her dripping sarcasm. “All this time, I thought that when I died and went to Hell, Dad showed me Mum’s open door and that She was gone, then brought me back. Turns out...it was all me—well, and Hell. But mostly me.”
She shakes her head in bemusement. “I don’t follow.”
“Dad never brought me back. I self-actualized myself back into my body, because the one thing I desired most in that moment was your protection—and nobody protects you better than I can.”
She gives him a small smile. “Can’t argue that. So what about the deal with your father...and that thing with Uriel?”
“Assumptions?” Lucifer guesses, throwing an arm out helplessly. “The deal was out there, there was no confirmation that Dad even accepted it. Uriel assumed He did and that Mum returning to Hell was part of it. If I recall correctly, all Uriel saw was that if Mum returned to Heaven, there would be war—that’s what he was trying to prevent, but...well. He went too far.” Chloe’s hands find one of his, comforting him as memories of Uriel and the church flash before his eyes. “You haven’t even heard the best part, Detective.”
The look on her face says she isn’t certain she even wants to know at this point. “And what’s the best part...?”
“My Rebellion. Casting me out and banishing me for eternity to rule Hell. It was all complete and utter bullshit.”
“Well, I knew that,” she grumbles.
He smiles slightly, shaking his head. “No, you don’t understand. I asked Dad for free will. Dad told me it was not something He could give us. Some time back, Linda suggested that the reason Dad couldn’t give us free will was because we already had it, all along.”
Realization slowly dawns as Chloe processes what he’s saying. “What?” she whispers, horrified. “So... I—” She huffs, eyes darting back and forth as she thinks. “Why were you cast out, then?”
“Because Dad is omniscient. And He foresaw that if I continued the path I was on, others would be hurt, perhaps they would have died.”
“I don’t care about others!” is a sentence Lucifer never imagined coming out of Chloe Decker’s mouth. “I care about you, Lucifer! And how you were hurt, beaten and broken and burning for centuries, then tortured for billions and billions of years in Hell—and for what?”
Lucifer leans forward and crashes his mouth to hers, swallowing her surprised gasp. He kisses her for long moments, trying to communicate everything he can’t put into words right now—what it means to have her on his side. When he pulls away, she looks dazed and chases him, a hand on his chest for balance.
He smiles lovingly at her. “Chloe Decker. Always my champion.”
“You’re damn right I am,” she says fiercely, though her voice is still a bit shaky. “Your dad better hope I don’t see Him again.”
“So should Amenadiel...” he mutters unintentionally. He hadn’t meant to say that, because while Dad’s visit is (hopefully) temporary, Amenadiel’s decidedly is not. And if Chloe knows how badly Amenadiel screwed up...
“What? Why?”
He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, but he answers her. “Turns out, we’ve had Amenadiel’s orders in regards to me wrong all this time,” he says slowly. Her eyebrows furrow. “Both Amenadiel and I assumed it was on Dad’s orders that he would track me down and send me back to Hell every time I popped up for a breather. Dad never told him that—Dad told him to watch over me and keep me out of trouble. Yet another assumption—Amenadiel thought that meant to force me back to Hell anytime I left the realm.”
Perhaps he should have tried a bit harder to deflect that particular piece of information. Chloe’s wings pop out and Lucifer has to grab her shoulders to keep her from flying over to Linda’s, presumably, to punch Amenadiel, and possibly God, in the face. As bloody entertaining as both would undoubtedly be, he’d like to prevent her from being smited; he’s gotten rather attached to her.
“So...Amenadiel repeatedly beat you up and sent you back to Hell for...what? Shits and giggles?”
“Shiggles, if you will,” he quips. She glares at him. He sighs. “So it would seem, yes.”
“Unbelievable.”
“That’s what I said.”
She shakes her head, her entire body trembling with fury—for him. Because he’s been wronged by his family, and she loves him enough to want to stand up for and defend him to the end.
“I really hate your family.”
“That makes two of us.”
The fury quickly turns to compassion. “Are you okay? After all of it?”
He swallows. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to make of any of it, to be honest. It feels like my entire life is a lie and that it’s all been for nothing, but at the same time, the one thing that feels real and anchoring...is you. All I could think about down there was that I needed to keep it together long enough to get back to you, Chloe, and it would all be all right again. Because you make it so.” She smiles at him with so much compassion that his heart aches, but he isn't finished.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen next, I truly don’t. Not now that Dad’s planning to withdraw his Almighty 401K and play shuffleboard for the rest of eternity. But if the last couple of weeks—hell, the last couple of years, really—have shown me anything, it’s that with you by my side, I can conquer anything.”
She kisses him this time. He wraps his arms around her lower back as her wings wrap around them both, and he sinks into it. This is what he knows. And as long as he has her—
A distant sound of a baby crying interrupts them and he groans against her lips. “We were having a moment!”
Chloe laughs. “Sorry, Satan, duty calls.”
He snickers. “You said doody.”
Rolling her eyes, she shrugs away her wings. “Just for that, you can change your son’s ‘doody’ diaper,” she deadpans.
After their talk on the balcony, Chloe is back to LuciferWatch™ in case he starts to spin out again the way he did when he learned his father was back on Earth—or came up from Lux today. But he seems...fine. His smiles and laughs are genuine; when he teases her and Trixie, there is mischief and love in his eyes, and nothing but; he’s a little manic, but that’s just typical Lucifer behavior. He even suggests an impromptu game night—Monopoly, of course—and insists that Lucas join them, even though Lucas can’t move the pieces (Lucifer does it for him).
And when he puts their son down for the night, he does so in the nursery—so that he can take advantage of the couple hours Lucas sleeps. He stops Chloe on her way to change. “I think you can hold off on that for now,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss along her neck. It doesn’t take her long to catch up with his plans, and she is completely on board with them.
Tugging her over to the bed, he sits down at the edge and pulls her to stand in front of him. Her hands go to his shoulders as he slowly unbuttons her shirt, never taking his loving, hungry gaze away from her face. Then, once the shirt is discarded, he kisses her belly where there should be scars from birthing Trixie and Lucas—thanks to her celestial healing and invulnerability, there’s just smooth, unblemished skin. At least until he’s nibbling and dragging his beard across her lower belly, making her gasp from stubble burn—one of her favorite sensations. She enjoys it most when it’s between her thighs.
Before she knows it, her jeans are unbuttoned, and his hand is pushing aside her panties, quickly and expertly finding her clit and making her gasp as she clutches his shoulders for balance.
“Lucifer...”
He hums darkly, sliding lower and bumping one of her feet with his to widen her stance so he can slip two fingers inside. It would seem he isn’t in a playful mood tonight—he’s getting right to it.
“Feel good?” he says in that low, devilish voice.
She whimpers in response, leaning down to kiss him as best she can. He curls his fingers behind her neck to hold her in place, his tongue mimicking the actions of his fingers—every thrust, every twist, every curl—until she’s falling apart in his hands, sighing into his mouth. He holds her upright, working her through it, then carefully pulls his fingers away to stuff them into his mouth, licking them clean.
It never ceases to amaze her how he can give her the most mind-blowing orgasm on the face of the planet, and yet, she immediately needs more—of his kisses, of his hands, his cock, his mouth...just more of him.
“Lucifer,” she moans, working his shirt buttons off as he pulls her jeans down the rest of the way.
“I know, love,” he murmurs.
It only takes a minute or so, but it feels like too long before they’re both completely naked and she’s straddling his thighs, still at the edge of the bed. He starts to move them towards the pillows, but she stops him.
“Just like this,” she whispers into his mouth.
Smiling, he nods his agreement, then his mouth finds her breasts, one hand splayed in the middle of her back to hold her close. Meanwhile, Chloe is reaching between them, lining them up, then sinking down on him in one slow, smooth move. She sighs; it feels like relief after the afternoon they’ve had.
“Feels good,” he exhales, eyebrows furrowed as he stares up at her in reverence. “You always feel so damn good, Chloe...”
She nods jerkily. “So do you...” she whispers, hands curled around his neck. She kisses him, tongue curling around his, making him groan. She smirks against his mouth.
He squeezes her hips, a silent plea to start moving. She doesn’t deny him. Using his shoulders for leverage, Chloe pulls off him almost completely, but when she starts to slide back down, he thrusts up hard. She gasps, and so sets the pace. They match each other perfectly, countering the other’s moves to increase pleasure. His mouth finds her breasts again, one of his hands cupping the other he isn’t doing illegal things to, and she cradles him in place, fingers curling in his hair.
Lucifer once told her he’s like walking heroin—he couldn’t have been more correct; and she’s been addicted for some time now, with no desire to kick the habit. And he’s equally addicted to her, and has been for much longer than they’ve been together. He also always used to say that they were inevitable. She thought it was just a line, having told herself a thousand times she would never sleep with him due to his aversion to monogamy and the risk to her heart.
Now, she thinks it was more his hope than anything. And she’s so glad he was so persistent. He never crossed the line into making her uncomfortable, but she always knew—sometimes only deep down—that he wanted her.
Or maybe he did know that one day she would finally admit how she felt about him. Whatever the answer, she’s glad her heart never gave up on him, because he, and this life he’s helped her build, is the best thing to ever happen to her.
And not even God Almighty is taking it away from them.
“I love you,” she whines, moving faster.
He moans. “Love you. Chloe, I love you so much...” When her moves falter, he smoothly takes over, holding her in place and thrusting up, always hitting that spot that makes her gasp. “Close. Are you close, Chloe?”
Her nod is frantic. They aren’t so much kissing now as their mouths are brushing—they share air, swallow each other’s sounds—just for the connection.
“So close.”
“Then come,” demands the Devil in a growl, pulling her down onto him roughly.
She does, biting her lip against a scream that would probably wake both kids, her fingers gripping his hair tightly enough it has to hurt. He hisses against her shoulder and he follows her into oblivion, hugging her close and falling back onto the bed. His mouth is buried in the curve of her neck as he groans her name, and a few frantic thrusts later, buries himself deep inside her and empties everything he has.
“Fuck...”
Chloe kisses every part of him she can reach—his forehead, his temple, his cheek and nose, then finally his lips as he whimpers and whines against her. “I’ve got you, baby, you’re okay.”
He opens his half-lidded, dazed eyes, and it’s like looking at the stars themselves. That anybody could look at her that way is amazing; that it’s Lucifer looking at her that way...
“Incredible,” he murmurs, unknowingly voicing her thoughts, then kisses her in that sweet, languid way he’s only ever kissed her. He’s never said so, but she knows, because he’s only ever loved her—and this kiss is so full of love she could cry.
Somehow, he gets them to the head of the bed and under the covers, tucking her beneath his chin and holding her like he’ll never let go. She hopes he doesn’t. They don’t talk like they normally would after making love; there just isn’t anything to say right now. They’re in their own little Chloe and Lucifer—she rolls her eyes mentally—Deckerstar bubble where they are utterly untouchable. And then, he starts to sing.
“Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
I want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I love you more and more...”
Chloe smiles into his chest, recognizing the song—Come What May from Moulin Rouge. But she has to admit, it’s pretty perfect for them.
“Listen to my heart
Can't you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change
Winter to spring
But I love you
Until the end of time...”
Lifting her head, she looks up at him to find him already watching her. She hopes she never gets used to this, or worse, takes it for granted for as long as she may live, because this man—this angel—is everything to her. This life, this family he’s given her...she is his, eternally...
“Come what may
Come what may
I will love you
Until my dying day...”
He leans down to kiss her, and it's a pact and a vow—partners ‘til the end, now until forever.
Come what may.
Notes:
This chapter contains lyrics from Come What May from the Moulin Rouge soundtrack.
Chapter 18: Perfect in Every Way
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Over the next few days, Lucifer is a bit on edge, as though he’s simply waiting for his family to burst in and ruin their peaceful bubble again, but so far, there’s been no word from any of them. Thankfully, and to the relief of all three of the other penthouse residents, Lucas recovered quickly from his ear infection and he’s back to being a happy, curious baby.
Maybe Chloe is biased (she’s probably biased), but there seems to be some intelligence in Lucas’s eyes she’s never seen in another baby this young before. Like, he doesn’t entirely understand the happenings around him, but he’s enjoying it nonetheless.
And while he likes to play dumb sometimes, and he can be dumb (well, more oblivious) to certain things, Lucifer is truly one of the smartest, most wildly intelligent people Chloe has ever known. With everything he has seen and experienced, it isn’t that much of a surprise, but it does amaze her sometimes to listen to him speak on certain subjects with a knowledge most human experts haven’t yet reached. Well, that, and she loves his voice—both speaking and singing—it’s mesmerizing. He's mesmerizing.
She might be a bit obsessed with the Devil. Does that make her a Satanist?
To help distract him from his family, Chloe suggests they start nailing down details for their wedding. They already have the date (August 4th) and the location (the beach, where they first kissed and later, where Lucifer proposed). Now, it’s a matter of deciding who is going to be attending and the trimmings surrounding it.
“Our friends, of course,” Lucifer says promptly, as Chloe starts a list. “Miss Lopez, Dr. Linda, Mazikeen, Eve, Charlotte...Daniel and Amenadiel, I suppose.” He tilts his head in consideration. “And the Urchin can attend, as well.”
Chloe gives him a look that makes him grin. “Of course Trixie is going to be there. Lucas and Emily, too. Trix still wants to be a bridesmaid, and I was thinking, Lucas can be the ringbearer and Emily the flower girl?”
Lucifer nods his agreement. “Fine by me, Detective. Mama Decker, of course.”
She makes a face, but adds her mother. “Anybody else?” She hesitates. “Are there...any of your siblings you might want to invite?” she asks tentatively.
He laughs, looking at her like she’s just made a joke. When he realizes she isn’t laughing with him, his face falls. “Oh, you’re actually serious...”
Rolling her eyes, Chloe nods. “Look, I obviously know you don’t have a good relationship with your family, and I’m definitely not saying we should invite them all.”
“I should hope not.”
“But like, Azrael, maybe? You’ve seen her recently, and you’re always telling me stories about her.”
Lucifer looks away, a wistful expression on his face. “Chloe...it’s one thing for Azrael to have couriered those letters to and from your father, but it’s something else entirely for her to attend a social gathering at my invitation. Excepting Amenadiel, who I only saw when he was incompetently interpreting my father’s orders, all of my other siblings either despise me, are afraid of my father to the point they wouldn’t dare associate with the Adversary, or are entirely indifferent to me. Azrael was afraid, and she still is, I think. She’s quite the little pacifist, always has been, and much prefers keeping her head down and doing her job, at which she is remarkably exceptional. Even if an invitation were to be extended...I don’t believe she would accept. And quite frankly, I don’t want to risk that rejection.”
Chloe has lost count of how many times her heart has broken for Lucifer—it has to be in the thousands by now. “It’s entirely your call,” she says softly, reaching for his hand. “I won’t push. I just wanted to put the suggestion out there.”
He gives her a small smile. “I do thank you for thinking of me in that regard. But I believe it would be better if we kept our guestlist on the Earthly plane.”
Accepting his choice, Chloe tries to think of anyone else she really wants at their wedding. Her mom will want her to invite extended family—and probably her fancy, snobby friends—but she thinks maybe inviting them to the reception would be enough. Speaking of...
“Where are we holding the reception? Lux?”
“We could,” Lucifer says on an exhale, reaching for his whiskey glass. “Or we could simply set up a party on the beach.”
“That would take getting all sorts of permits, which could take months and aren’t even guaranteed to go through,” Chloe says automatically, making some notes.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow and smirks at her. “I’m sorry, have we met?” he says, laughing. “Darling, I could have permits within the hour, if I so desired.”
She pauses in what she’s writing down and purses her lips. “Right. Yeah, I forgot who I was talking to for a minute...”
Over the course of the afternoon, they decide on the style wedding arch they want. Lucifer found one on Pinterest that he couldn’t stop obsessing over. When he showed it to Chloe, she stared at it for five minutes, imagining them standing below it and speaking their vows, and...yeah. That was the one.
Chloe already has a vague idea of what she wants for her dress—the thought came to her when she was nursing Lucas in the middle of the night and took root. And if it works out as well in real life as it does in her imagination, Lucifer is going to lose his mind.
By the time Dan is dropping Trixie off from school (he and Chloe have been alternating at his suggestion to give her a bit of a break), Lucifer has a tablet screen full of possible cakes. And Trixie is immediately drawn in.
“Chocolate,” Trixie says decidedly. “What other kind of cake even is there?”
Chloe laughs. “Well, we haven’t decided, yet, but it looks like Lucifer has a baker in mind?”
“That I do, Detective,” he says proudly. “The best cake baker and decorator in Los Angeles, as it happens, owes me a favor.”
“Is that supposed to surprise me?” Chloe deadpans. “Let me guess, you helped them open their bakery?”
When Lucifer hesitates, his eyes darting towards Trixie, Chloe knows whatever favor he did for this baker is not rated for young ears. “Um, not exactly,” he hedges without meeting her eyes. “But no matter, a favor is a favor, darling, and Tatyana will deliver.”
Rolling her eyes, Chloe sends Trixie to put her things away while she talks to Dan. “How are things at the precinct?”
“Good. Everyone misses you,” he tells her. “Especially the Lieutenant. Solve rates have dropped without you and Beelzebub over there.”
“No need for jealousy, Douche,” Lucifer tosses absently over his shoulder as he continues to browse. “Just because you'll never reach our level of remarkability and teamwork, don't strain your last brain cell trying.”
“Well, we’ll be back in a few weeks,” Chloe interjects before the insults can really start to fly.
Dan looks at her, ignoring Lucifer. “So, who’s watching Lucas while you work?”
Both Chloe and Lucifer pause, then exchange a look. “Oh...um...we haven’t actually discussed that,” Chloe says, eyes widening in realization. They have three weeks to sort out childcare, and they haven’t even thought about it.
And with that helpful parting comment, Dan hastily takes his leave.
“Seriously, what are we going to do for childcare?” Chloe asks, glancing at her sleeping son in his swing.
“Well...” Lucifer sets down the tablet and adjusts his cuffs. He, too, looks at Lucas, and she’s never seen more confliction in his eyes.
“Lucifer? What are you thinking?”
He makes that strangled sound in the back of his throat that he makes when he’s struggling with a decision. “I mean, there’s nothing saying I couldn’t stay home with him.” His eyebrows shoot up as if he can’t believe what he’s just said.
And neither can Chloe. “You want to be a stay-at-home Dad? There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, I just wouldn’t have imagined that’s something you’d want. I thought you were itching to get back to work?”
“Well, I am,” he says quickly. “I do love solving cases with you, Detective. It’s just...”
Realization hits. “You don’t want to leave him with anybody.”
Lucifer sighs. “The thing is...I saw what being a working father did for my dad,” he confesses softly. “How it took over His entire being, and He never had time for His family. I don’t want to repeat those mistakes.”
Chloe drops to the couch beside him. “You won’t,” she says firmly. “I’ve always been a working parent, Lucifer, ever since Trixie was two months old. And yes, sometimes it’s a struggle to maintain that home-work life balance. There are times when I just want to stay at home with my kid all day long. It’s a matter of knowing when to turn work off. I walk in the door, take off my badge, and I’m no longer Detective Decker; I’m Mom. Or I try my best to be, sometimes I get it wrong. But I make sure Trixie always knows that she comes first. That’s the biggest problem I had with Dan: He never knew when to turn it off and spend time with his family.
“And Lucifer, you already know how to do that. You go down to Lux every few nights, and you run your club, play your sets on the piano, do your socializing... Then you come home and play board games with me and Trix, or watch movies, or cook dinner. The point is, you’re present and you’re here. And yeah, it’ll be more difficult going back to the LAPD with a newborn at home. But as long as we’re making time for both kids, we’re going to be fine. I promise you.”
He looks so sad and torn that Chloe leans over to hug him. His head drops to rest on top of hers. “I just don’t want him to feel the way I did,” he whispers brokenly. “Not ever.”
“Oh, babe. He won’t. Because he’ll always know that we love him—that he and Trixie come first.”
Sighing, Lucifer wraps his arms around her. “All right,” he breathes.
She smiles. “So, I still have my partner?”
“Always, Detective.”
Wedding talk shifts to childcare talk. When Trixie was a baby and Chloe was about to start working again, she and Dan looked into daycare, but even between their two salaries, they couldn’t afford it. At least, not until Chloe finally made Detective. Things were still tight, financially, but they got Trixie into a decent daycare until she started school.
And then there’s Lucifer Morningstar.
He went straight to the ledgers in his desk where he keeps track of his favors and started noting the ones with childcare experience. Chloe was a bit more wary, uncertain whether someone who’s made a deal with the Devil would be an appropriate nanny for their son, but when he started telling her some of their stories...well. She had to admit Lucifer might be on the right track.
“Amelia came to Los Angeles from some small town in the Midwest, without a penny to her name,” he tells her as he cooks dinner. Trixie is at the kitchen table doing her homework. Chloe is nursing Lucas. Teivel is at Lucifer’s feet. She smiles at the sight—her whole family together. She loves it. “She came to Lux after living on the streets for a few weeks seeking employment. Her family kicked her out when she told them she didn’t want to follow in their footsteps and become a doctor; she wanted to work in child education. So, I hired her on the spot as a server and arranged for her to live in the apartments below Lux—the prohibition tunnels had just been remodeled. And I helped her get into a child development program at UCLA, and she worked her way through school, top of her class, and graduated with honors. She’s now working as a nanny for young children and infants. Actually, I just spoke to her before Lucas was born—she popped into Lux to say ‘hello’ and we chatted for a bit. The family she’s been working with is moving abroad shortly, so she’ll be seeking employment.”
Chloe looks down at her son, thinking. “The only problem I have is... Lucifer, he’s going to develop wings at some point, which means whoever we bring in here is going to be exposed to the divine.”
Lucifer waves this off as a complete non-issue, because of course he does. “Darling, whomever we hire will be forewarned; we won’t simply allow them to be surprised when a pair of wings pops out on them one day.”
“And what stops them from telling people that they’re employed by Satan. whose wife is also an angel—and oh, yeah, they’ve birthed the Antichrist?”
Pressing his lips together in a hard line to stifle his laugh, Lucifer turns to her. “Chloe, I would never endanger our family,” he says seriously. “This matter will be handled delicately.”
“Who would believe them, anyway?” Trixie pipes up from the table. “I tell people at school about my step-Devil and angel baby brother all the time; they think I’m lying.”
Chloe’s eyes widen and she chokes on her water. “Um, Monkey... Maybe let’s not talk about that stuff at school, okay?” she says carefully.
Trixie tilts her head innocently. “How come? It’s true. And I don’t talk about your wings, Mommy. We pinkie-swore, remember?”
“And that’s great. But all the stuff about Lucifer being the Devil, and Lucas being an angel...we should keep that quiet, too.”
Lucifer looks at her questioningly, clearly not understanding the consequences.
She sighs. Look, I know you’re all about the truth, but we have children to protect. If the wrong people hear Trixie talking about living with the Devil, and Mommy and Baby Brother are angels, and her best friend is a demon from Hell... Lucifer, we could have CPS crawling all over here. And I will not risk losing my children.
His eyes flash red. That would never happen. Not ever. Chloe, I promise you, nobody would dare take your children from you.
And I appreciate that, Lucifer, I do. But I don’t even want us to get to that point. Which is why Trixie needs to understand what she can and cannot talk about in public. It’s fine for us; we’re adults. Trixie is still a kid. That comes with risks.
Finally, he nods his understanding, not looking happy about the conversation, but he’ll back her up.
“So, Monkey, here’s the thing: You can talk about Lucifer, but you have to call him by his name. Don’t tell people he’s the Devil. Or that Lucas and I are angels. You probably shouldn’t tell people you can read souls, either.”
She hates that her daughter has to keep these secrets—and it will be worse for Lucas, when he gets wings—but it’s for their safety. “There are people who might take it the wrong way. We know it’s the truth, and we know that Lucifer is good, but others...”
“It’s called selective truth, Urchin,” Lucifer interjects. “You tell the truth but omit certain facts—I’m Lucifer, but you don’t mention I’m the Devil. Your baby brother is an angel—well, people will simply believe it’s a metaphor; let them believe that. Believe me, I know.” He casts Chloe a pointed look; she looks right back. Ass. “It protects you from undesired attention; and it protects them from bursting their blissfully ignorant minds.”
“So...a secret.” Trixie shrugs. “Okay.” And she goes back to her homework.
Sighing, Chloe finishes burping Lucas and sets him in the bassinet in the corner of the kitchen. “So, anyway, back to the original point...I’m on board with hiring a nanny, but I have stipulations.” Lucifer cocks a questioning eyebrow. “Non-Disclosure Agreements. Anything seen in this building stays in this building. That includes all things angelic or devilish, or anything in-between. We can show whoever we hire a wing, or a feather, to make sure their mind doesn’t melt at the sight of the celestial. And maybe nobody would believe them if they talked about what they’ve seen, but somebody might, and that isn’t a chance I’m willing to take.”
She shudders and feels sick at the thought of Lucas in some sort of isolation chamber with doctors poking and prodding at him and his wings. She has the same fear about Lucifer, but Lucifer can defend himself, and he’s invulnerable—the Devil and the Lightbringer. But Lucas is a vulnerable, defenseless baby, and nobody is taking him from her.
“Very well,” Lucifer agrees after a moment’s thought. “I shall have my lawyers draw up the paperwork tomorrow. And I’ve other candidates for the nanny position we can interview and vet; I imagine you’ll wish to run your criminal background checks.”
Duh.
“Yes, I will.” Chloe isn’t entirely used to all this secret-keeping business, but she will protect her home and her family; anybody who comes near her kids is getting thoroughly vetted—despite that it isn’t strictly ethical to use LAPD resources for personal benefit. She’s been toeing the line of ethics since she met Lucifer Morningstar, anyway.
“Agreed,” he says easily. “Right, then. Who’s hungry?”
Which is how, a week later, Chloe and Lucifer came to be sitting in front of a list of questions and a stack of résumés awaiting a series of possible nannies for the Devil’s spawn. When Lucifer put the word out that they were searching for one, the response was immediate and diverse. It took a few days to sort through the actual candidates between all the hopeful requests for a night with Lucifer.
“Honestly, you’d think by now word would have gotten around that I’m a taken Devil,” he said, exasperated as he deleted yet another naughty email detailing exactly what the sender wished to do to him—and vice versa.
Chloe just rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what it is, exactly, but I have noticed that women find men who are in committed relationships, and especially men with babies, ten times more attractive,” she said dryly. “Maybe because they think they’ll be faithful, or they're a sure thing? And yet, they try to break up the man’s family?”
Lucifer looked at her questioningly. “You...sound as though you speak from experience,” he said carefully.
“Well, there was Eve, when she first arrived,” she said dismissively.
Lucifer smirked at the memory of his usually reserved (at least in public) Detective publicly staking her claim over him in the middle of Lux. When they’d eventually gone upstairs...well. It had been an evening to remember.
“But right after Trix was born, there was this officer at the precinct who’d always had a crush on Dan.”
He made a face. “Why?”
Chloe gave him a look. “Anyway. She spent half her days at work hitting on Dan, and it got so much worse after Trixie was born.”
“And did you publicly stake your claim over the Douche at the precinct?” A stab of irrational jealousy hit him at the thought that she may have.
Chloe smirked, reading him loud and clear. “No. I’ve never actually done that with anybody but you; I’ve never even felt the need to before, not even with Dan. She ended up transferring to another precinct, so...problem solved.”
“Is that so?” His smugness was through the roof, and he was already planning the best way to rub it in Daniel’s face.
She gave him yet another look. “Do not bring that up to Dan, please.”
“Oh, come on!” he whined. “Rubbing it in his face that you unequivocally marked your territory over me but not him? Detective! I’ve waited for this day all my life!”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously! I win; the Douche loses. How could you possibly expect me to keep that to myself?”
She simply rolled her eyes and walked away.
But they’ve filtered through the legitimate responses and now have a group of candidates to interview. Starting with a young woman named Sarah. On paper, she’s quite qualified—several degrees related to childcare; fifteen years of relevant experience; no criminal background; and the background that Lucifer ran (much more thorough than Chloe’s legal methods) didn’t turn up anything untoward.
Only, she walks into the penthouse wearing Crocs.
Absolutely not, Detective.
Chloe lifts an eyebrow, having just led Sarah, objectively attractive and all smiles, into the room and invites her to have a seat. What? Why?
Look at her shoes! Do you honestly want somebody with judgment horrible enough to wear bloody Crocs, with socks, no less, caring for our son?
You have got to be kidding me... They’re just shoes, Lucifer.
Just shoes? He looks at her in absolute horror. Now, he knew her tastes in fashion were—at best—questionable, but come bloody on! How could she possibly overlook this?
Chloe ignores him and gets into the interview, asking Sarah to describe her work history, et cetera. But all Lucifer can see is himself and Chloe coming home one exhausting day from protecting and serving the city of Los Angeles to find their precious child...wearing tiny Crocs of his own.
“No!” Lucifer shoots to his feet.
Chloe glares at him. Sarah just looks confused. “Lucifer, sit down!” Chloe hisses at him.
“Nope, I’m dreadfully sorry,” he’s not, “but this is not going to work for us. Thank you for coming all this way, but you are not what we are looking for at this time.”
“Um...” Sarah says, frowning as she looks from the Devil to Chloe. “Did I do something wrong?”
Lucifer scoffs. “Did you ever? I mean...who wears Crocs to a job interview in the first place?” He gestures for Sarah to stand and leads her, in utter bemusement, towards the elevator. “Good luck with your employment search. Find some better shoes.”
Sarah has the nerve to look offended. “They’re comfortable! Asshole...” she mutters on her way into the elevator.
“And another strike against you: Foul language in the presence of a small child. Bye, now!” When he turns around to look at Chloe, though, he freezes. She looks...not pleased.
“Are you kidding me right now?” she asks, quietly seething as he cautiously returns to her side. “Lucifer, she was a fully-qualified nanny, and you ended the interview because of her shoes. What the hell?”
“Well, I have standards, Detective, and high ones at that. Hence, you being the first human in history to domesticate the Devil. I will not risk tarnishing my or my son’s reputations with a nanny who wears pure rubber on her feet.”
The glare intensifies. “Lucas is six weeks old. He doesn’t have a reputation. Besides, I owned three pairs of Crocs at the apartment.”
The horror returns. “I beg your pardon! How could you keep something like that from me, Detective?” he asks, wondering if he even knows her at all. “And I bet they melted, because that is what rubber does in fire. I won’t risk our son’s feet being burned by melting rubber in the L.A. heat.”
“You are unbelievable. And no, that is not a compliment.”
Scoffing, Lucifer refills his drink. “Right, then! Who's next?”
“I feel like we should have added dress code requirements on the job announcement,” she mutters to herself.
“Would have saved us time, wouldn’t it?”
Shaking her head, Chloe sighs and changes the subject. “Next is ‘Travis Whitman, twenty-nine years old. Degree from UCLA in Child Development and Psychology’,” she reads aloud. “‘Going for his Masters Degree in Early Childhood Studies’. Hmm, sounds promising.”
“Don’t often hear of a male nanny,” Lucifer muses. “Nothing wrong with it, of course, so long as he’s qualified.”
Chloe shrugs. “That’s what matters to me.”
But when Travis arrives...well, it’s a different sort of problem.
He is tall and skinny, well-groomed, well-dressed—nice shoes. He looks around the penthouse in amazement, as most humans do when they see the Devil’s lair for the first time, then greets Lucifer first, as he’s closer.
“Lucifer Morningstar, pleasure,” he greets, then gestures towards Chloe, who stands and smiles at Travis. “And this is—”
“Chloe Decker.”
Lucifer blinks, then takes in the young man’s expression. He’s seen that expression—in the mirror, as a matter of fact, anytime Chloe is nearby. It’s the expression of somebody appreciating what he’s seeing...a bit too much, really.
Chloe’s smile tightens. “Um, yes. Nice to meet you, Travis. Thank you for coming, and please, have a seat.”
Travis does as instructed, but doesn’t take his wide eyes off of Chloe. Bloody hell, he’s checking her out! There’s desire and lust in his eyes, and the bastard actually licks his lips as he scans her body. “I’m...a huge fan.”
Chloe stiffens, her expression wooden. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” Travis laughs a little, utterly clueless to the shitstorm he's just started. “I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing, but I saw Hot Tub High School...must have been, like, a hundred times.” His eyes are on Chloe still, but a bit farther south than her eyes. “Wow. You’re even better in person...” Lucifer’s fists clench. “And your boobs are so much more amazing now that you’re breastfeeding.”
The look of pure shock and offense on Chloe’s face would be enough to jolt Lucifer into action, if he wasn’t already on his feet. “Whilst I do not disagree, that is incredibly inappropriate and disrespectful!” he growls, grabbing the younger man by the scruff. “She is not a piece of meat to be ogled for your wanking pleasure! Not to mention...she’s taken!”
Lucifer drags the man towards the elevator—and he should be thankful that’s all the Devil is doing. “You should be utterly ashamed of yourself!!”
“Take it easy, man! We can share!”
Blind fury takes over as Lucifer throws Travis like a bowling ball into the elevator, crashing into the wall. The man groans as he tries to push to his feet. “How dare you!”
Travis looks up just in time to see the flash of Hellfire in Lucifer’s eyes. And he screams as the elevator doors shut. They can hear his muffled, fearful cries growing farther away.
Wiping his hands of the filth he was just forced to touch, he turns back to Chloe, half-expecting her to be angry again. Instead, she looks disgusted and annoyed, but by some stroke of luck, not at Lucifer.
“Well, I didn’t see that one coming,” he says dryly, rejoining her.
“Yeah...” She rolls her eyes. “It’s one thing to encounter that on a case, but to bring that to an interview for a nanny position?”
“To be fair, your breasts are quite lovely, but yes, you’re absolutely right—it was beyond inappropriate, and he’s lucky I didn’t throw him over the balcony.”
Again, she rolls her eyes, this time at Lucifer’s first statement—though she does look a little pleased by it. “How did this not show up in background checks? Didn’t you do deep dives on the applicants?”
“Well, yes, but my inquiries don't reveal their preferences in spank bank material, Detective.”
“This is ridiculous. I never should have let you make that announcement in the first place.”
Lucifer scoffs. “Come now, darling. So we’ve had a couple of false starts, but I’m certain that the next applicant will be an improve—”
The elevator dings, the doors open, and there’s a gasp behind him. Lucifer turns around and sees somebody he and Chloe have actually met before...but who certainly is not on their list of applicants. The last time they saw this person was when they were investigating Jana’s murder. He’d been so focused on trying to prove his worth to Chloe at the time that he hadn't thought of this person since—mostly because she creeps him out a bit.
Suki Price stands just inside his penthouse, eyes wide and full of the same infatuation and obsession he’d seen the last time he met her. For a moment, he fears she might launch herself at him. “Lucifer...”
“Uh...”
Instantly, Chloe is at his side, standing slightly in front of him, as if she’s shielding him. “Um...hi? Suki, right? What are you doing here?” she asks, sounding just as wary as Lucifer feels.
“I saw Lucifer's ad seeking a nanny,” Suki explains, not taking her eyes off the Devil. “I could be his nanny. And his baby mama.”
Lucifer isn’t exactly sure what the noise that escapes Chloe’s throat is meant to convey, but he can sense her incredulity. “Excuse me?” she says, outraged.
“Yes, I’m afraid that particular position is taken,” Lucifer says gingerly. “As am I.”
This doesn’t seem to deter Suki in the slightest. “I have thought of nothing but you.”
“Okay, that’s nice. Ms. Price, I’m only going to ask you once to leave,” Chloe says in that stern, no-nonsense tone she uses on suspects. Lucifer can’t help the smile on his face; he quite enjoys it when she takes charge like this. “And if you return, you will be arrested for trespassing. And most likely, stalking.”
Lucifer still doesn’t quite know what to make of Suki’s wall of photographs. How he’d never noticed her lurking around Lux, and in multiple locales around Los Angeles, he doesn’t understand. The dedication was quite impressive; the implication...not as much. And those little crocheted Lucifer dolls still give him the occasional nightmare. He once dreamed an army of them attacked and ate him. It was quite disturbing.
“But I love him. And look, I made another doll...” Suki removes said doll from her pocket. Neither Lucifer nor Chloe can quite resist craning their necks to look—it’s Lucifer, in his trademark black suit, white shirt, red pocket square combination...and he seems to be holding something. Narrowing his eyes, Lucifer thinks it’s supposed to be a baby, wrapped in a blue blanket. “It’s for your son; he looks just like you.”
And it just got creepier.
“Uh-huh,” Chloe says flatly. “Goodbye, Ms. Price.”
Finally, Suki heeds Chloe’s warning and turns to leave with a pout, but leaves the doll on a table near the door. “I’ll see you again soon, Lucifer.”
“I sincerely hope not,” he mutters, wide-eyed as the doors close.
Chloe turns to him. “Okay, what the hell was that? How did she even get up here?”
“Not a clue. I’ll have a word with Andrew downstairs; perhaps she snuck past him? I banned her from the property after the last time we saw her.”
Chloe’s eyes dart distrustfully at the Lucifer/Lucas doll by the elevator. “That thing is going straight into the fireplace,” she says firmly. “And we’re getting a restraining order. Tomorrow.”
“Fine by me, Detective...”
Thankfully, the other applicants for the position are more straightforward. The only hiccup is when Lucifer realizes he’s slept with one of the young women, and Chloe immediately rejects her résumé from the pile, even though her qualifications were exactly what they are seeking. Lucifer doesn’t argue; he wouldn’t want somebody she’s had sex with tending to their son and spending extended time in their home, either.
Amelia Connor is the last applicant of the day. She has long brown hair and striking green eyes, and is about an inch or so shorter than Chloe. Her personality, as Lucifer recalls, is warm and friendly. She was quite popular amongst the Lux staff, having been hired about six months after the club opened. If he remembers correctly, she was quite close with Delilah when both girls worked at Lux. Inseparable, really.
Chloe seems to like her instantly, and they all spend a few minutes chatting, then get into the questions. Lucifer watches his partner becoming more impressed the longer Amelia tells them about her time as a nanny. The family she worked for previously had two small sons, one of whom Amelia cared for from birth, so she has experience with babies. Her references are impeccable, and her background checks were clean—not that Lucifer had expected any less from her; when she worked at Lux, she was one of the hardest working servers he’d ever employed.
When Lucas wakes from his nap and starts fussing, Chloe starts to get up to check on him, but Amelia asks if it’s okay for her to try. Chloe agrees, and they watch her pick up their son, smiling and murmuring softly to soothe him. Lucas’s whimpers falter at the sound of a new voice, and Lucifer half-expects him to start up again any moment, refusing to be calmed by anyone but his parents. Instead, the whimpers taper off as Amelia rocks him. He looks up at her with big blue eyes, obviously enraptured.
I think he likes her, Chloe prays, a small smile on her lips.
Lucifer nods his agreement. “Amelia,” he says, once Lucas has been replaced in his swing, “an odd question for you.”
Amelia’s eyebrows furrow. “Okay, sure...”
Glancing between Chloe and Lucas, Lucifer asks, “What is your stance on the Antichrist?” Beside him, Chloe’s hand twitches, as though she’s stifling the urge to facepalm herself. Or perhaps him.
Part of him expects Amelia to laugh, or give him one of those this guy is completely bonkers looks he gets so often when he says something Devil- or celestial-related. Instead, Amelia just raises an eyebrow, her gaze knowing.
“You mean, because you’re the Devil?” she says bluntly.
Lucifer stares at her a moment. “Beg pardon?”
Amelia smiles and rolls her eyes. “Delilah told me,” she says quietly, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “I guess she figured it out somehow and confided in me.” She shrugs. “She’d just made that deal with you, and she was afraid she sold her soul or something. And I’d been around Lux long enough that I’ve seen some weird stuff—like Mazikeen.”
Lucifer snorts a laugh.
“I thought about it for a while and realized she might have been right about you. I actually considered quitting on the spot, but... Look, my family was religious, but I never bought into any of it, really. I thought about what I knew of the Devil...and what I knew about you, Mr. Morningstar, and it didn’t match up—so either Delilah was wrong, or the Devil isn’t so bad, after all.”
He can feel Chloe glancing at him as he tries to think of a way to reply to that. He’d never known that either of the girls knew the truth—there are plenty of rumors going around amongst the Lux staff, he knows, but nobody has ever confronted him about it. Patrick once told him it didn’t matter who he was; he’s an amazing boss, treats his employees like they’re his family, and has never treated them badly, so Devil or not, they stick around, because they know Lucifer will take care of them.
“So, you believe me?” he asks carefully. “That I’m the Devil?”
Amelia purses her lips in thought for a moment. “I think so, yeah,” she says quietly.
“And that doesn’t scare you?” Chloe asks.
“Maybe at first, a little, but Lucifer has always been a great boss and a good friend. Kind of...eccentric, sometimes, but it’s a good kind of eccentric.” Amelia shrugs. “I judge people by what I see, and I’ve never seen anything but good in Lucifer. He gave me a job and someplace to stay when I had nothing, and nobody else cared. But he did. He helped me get through school, which I never would have managed otherwise, and it’s because of him I have the life that I do. So, no, I’m not scared anymore.”
All the air leaves Lucifer’s lungs at her words, and he’s quite touched, really. It wasn’t that he was looking to do something nice for somebody; more that he saw a little of himself in her—in a new place all alone, no friends or family. She’d been without a home or hope. And he had more than enough room in Lux, so he extended a helping hand.
Amelia leans forward a little. “So...it’s all really true? You’re the Devil, there’s a God, all of it?”
Chloe answers for him as he seems unable to find his voice at the moment. Her hand goes to the small of his back, rubbing circles. “It’s all true,” she confirms softly. She glances over at Lucas. “Are you still interested in the position?”
Amelia follows her gaze to Lucas and a small smile finds her lips. “I am, yes. He’s a sweet baby; I’d love to get to know him better.”
“And you understand that you’ll be asked to sign Non-Disclosure Agreements, barring you from talking to anybody about our family or what happens in this building? Are you okay with that?” Chloe asks.
“It wouldn’t be the first time. I mean, I have a feeling the circumstances will be way different, but I would never talk about any of you, anyway. Your lives are private and your own, and I understand the need to protect yourselves.”
What do you think?
Lucifer looks from Chloe to Amelia, still rather thrown by the revelation that the latter has known about him for years. I think she would be a good fit. She’s a hard worker. I don’t recall there ever being any drama surrounding her. She possesses all the necessary qualifications you require. And she seems to be okay with knowing the truth about me. Which is wild, really. Seems a bit ‘Mary Poppins’ to me—perfect in every way.
Chloe raises an incredulous eyebrow at him. When did you watch ‘Mary Poppins’?
The Urchin.
Ah.
“I think we’re in agreement, then, Amelia. You’ve got the job.”
Amelia smiles. “Thank you so much, Ms. Decker.”
Chloe shakes her head. “Please, call me Chloe,” she insists.
They work out the details for Amelia to visit Lucifer’s lawyer’s office to sign the NDAs and an employment contract, then set a start date—the day Lucifer and Chloe return to work. Chloe suggests Amelia come back a few days before to spend some time with the family when Trixie is home, so they can all get to know one another, and Lucas can get used to his new caregiver, then Amelia heads out.
“Yeah, we should have started with her,” Chloe decides, sitting back down beside Lucifer, now with Lucas in her arms.
Lucifer huffs a laugh. “Yes, we should have,” he says wryly. “Between Croc-girl, the Wanker, and Suki, it was a bit of a clusterduck, wasn’t it?”
“Well, what matters is that I think Amelia will fit in. And just to check, you never slept with her, right?”
Smirking, Lucifer shakes his head. “No, Detective, I did not. No need to go all green-eyed on me, now.”
She rolls her eyes, tracing the contours of their son’s face as he stares adoringly up at her. Well, Lucifer assumes that’s what he’s doing; obsessing over Chloe Decker seems to be hardwired into his DNA, so surely he’s passed that onto his son.
“It does make me feel a little better about going back to work. The first couple weeks will be difficult,” she warns, “but we’ll get into a new routine, and it’ll work out.”
Lucifer is still apprehensive about returning to work, but knowing their son will be well-cared for while they’re away does help. And he still remembers everything Chloe said to him last week, about how the key is maintaining a balance between home- and work-life. It will be strange, not spending all his time tending to their miniature dictator, and Lucifer is sure there will be separation anxiety, but he is looking forward to solving cases with his Detective again. It’s what brought them together, after all, and it helped give him a purpose in life that for once, he’s chosen, rather than having it chosen for him—like in the Silver City then in Hell.
And he knows they aren’t finished with celestial nonsense; his father is still on Earth. Michael has been suspiciously absent since family dinner. And there’s still the matter of God retiring. But as long as Lucifer has this to fall back on, he’s sure they’ll find a way through.
Notes:
Hope everyone who celebrates had a lovely Christmas! About two more easygoing chapters before we get back into the angst, so hold on tight. 😈
Chapter 19: Career Decisions
Notes:
My first fic post of 2025! Hope everyone is recovered enough from their New Year's celebrations. Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Text
One week before Chloe and Lucifer are set to return to the LAPD, the temporary silence from his celestial family is broken yet again. The day starts out nicely enough; the Devil is on the floor enjoying time with his son who, in the last couple weeks, has started to figure out the world around him and how to better engage with it. He started reaching for toys when they’re placed in front of him, which turned into a game with him and Trixie—at least until Lucifer put a stop to it, much to the confusion of Trixie and Chloe.
Objectively, it’s innocent enough, and of course, the Urchin isn’t doing it to be mean or cruel to her baby brother, but she’ll hold a toy out in front of Lucas, and when Lucas reaches out for it, she’ll snatch it away. He doesn’t cry or get frustrated or anything, and both children seem to enjoy it, but Lucifer started having flashbacks to times he’d long since forgotten. Ones from the Silver City and how his siblings used to tease and torment him in a similar fashion—only they were doing it to be malicious.
Chloe had to explain to him that this is just how children play, and unless one of them is getting genuinely upset, there isn’t anything wrong with it. “They’re having fun, and they’re being quiet; what more could a parent ask for?”
Still, Lucifer has kept a weather eye on the proceedings—just in case.
They’ve also discovered just how curious Lucas is about the world around him. He’s always been perfectly content to watch his family as they go about their days, and never likes to be left alone for long where he can’t see them. But now that he’s able to turn his head more, they can see just how often he’s following their movements. Likely, he doesn’t have a clue what they’re doing, or why, but that curiosity is something he’s gotten a double dose of from both parents.
“He’s going to be into everything when he starts crawling, I can see it now,” Chloe says, smiling. “Exploring, getting into stuff he shouldn’t...”
“As well he should,” Lucifer quips. “I was the same when I was young. None of my siblings were interested in exploring the area surrounding the Silver City, which just meant I discovered all the best spots—my favorite was this pond and waterfall in the hills. It’s where Dad would experiment on different aquatic life and amphibians, and such. The clearest, crispest water you could imagine—you could see every rock at the bottom. And there was a cave behind the waterfall that I rather enjoyed, as well.”
Chloe smiles. “Sounds beautiful.”
He nods. “It was,” he says wistfully. “My siblings preferred the City proper and thought nothing could be more beautiful than the spires my father built—and objectively, yes, it is beautiful. But it was also...” He searches for the right words to describe the clinical feel of the Silver City. “Cold. Not temperature-wise; though, of course it’s cooler than both Earth and Hell, but there was no real personality. It simply was, if that makes sense. But the outlying regions, the nature... So many colors and scents, and things to see. Perhaps I’ll be able to show you one day.”
He hasn’t thought much about returning to Heaven, or whether his father was serious about lifting his banishment, but the thought of exploring those areas with Chloe hatches an excitement for his former home he didn’t know he could experience anymore.
“I’d like that a lot, Lucifer,” she says softly.
Lucas’s newest skill reveals itself later that afternoon when Lucifer sits down at the piano and begins playing the lullaby he composed for his son. When he glances over, he actually misses the next several notes, because there is an expression on Lucas’s face none of them has ever seen before.
“Chloe! Come here and see this!” Lucifer calls excitedly, turning to give Lucas his full attention. He hears a startled yelp from the bathroom where Chloe has just finished her shower and then she’s rushing into the room to find out what’s going on.
“What? What’s wrong?” she asks, panicked.
He shakes his head. “Nothing, he’s smiling!”
She rolls her eyes. “Lucifer, it’s gas, we’ve been through—”
“Just come here,” he interrupts, rolling his own eyes. “See for yourself.”
She does, and gasps. “Oh, my gosh! He’s smiling!” she gushes.
“I literally just said that.”
Laughing in amazement, Chloe kneels in front of the baby swing. “Lucifer, our baby is smiling! Quick! Take a picture!”
“Already ahead of you, Detective.” His phone is out and he manages to snap a few photos with both of his favorite people in the frame. “That’s quite clever of you, Lucas, figuring out how your facial muscles work, finally. Well done, Gremlin.”
“You are so adorable,” Chloe coos.
Lucifer preens. “Why, thank you, darling—”
“Yeah, I was talking to the baby.”
“Oh.”
Chloe leans against his knees, smiling up at him. “You’re pretty adorable, too,” she concedes.
He sniffs primly. “I don’t need your pity compliments, Detective. Save them for somebody who truly requires them—like Daniel.”
Rolling her eyes, she uses his knee to push to her feet. “Stop being a baby. One is enough, thanks.”
Grabbing her around the waist, he tugs her into his lap, pressing his lips against her neck as she yelps slightly and giggles. “Does this feel like a baby to you, Detective?” he purrs seductively against her skin, arching his hips against her rear.
Chloe tilts her head back against his shoulder. “Feels like someone’s in a good mood...”
“That’s what you do to me,” he murmurs, tracing her neck with his lips. She tilts her head to the side to give him better access. “What say we let the Gremlin sleep in the nursery tonight?”
She presses her lips together against a smile. “And do what, exactly?” she says coyly.
He whispers several suggestions into her ear, smirking when she shivers in his arms. He does enjoy the effect he has on her. The one she has on him is just as strong. “How does that sound, my love?”
“It sounds to me like you shouldn’t talk about those things in front of your little mutant.”
Lucifer is on his feet, standing between Chloe and Lucas, and his insufferable twin. Beside him, Teivel is instantly awake, his Earthly glamour dropped completely as he snarls and growls at the uninvited archangel. “I warned you not to come back here, Michael,” he growls, letting his eyes shine Lightbringer white.
There’s a tiny flicker of unease in Michael’s eyes that he quickly masks with a smirk. “Please, you aren't about to kill another sibling, Samael.”
“No?” Lucifer challenges.
Take Lucas back to the nursery, he prays to Chloe. Stay there with him.
I am not leaving you alone with him, Lucifer.
Sometimes having somebody like Chloe Decker at one’s back can be frustrating. This is one of those times.
Please. I don’t want Lucas near him.
He can hear her sigh, but she picks up their son and starts out of the room, casting one last look between the twin angels before disappearing into the nursery. Lucifer turns back to his twin, who is watching him and Chloe with interest in his eyes.
“What are you looking at? Get out of our home, Michael, final warning.”
“Just getting my first look at the new so-called Prince of Heaven, as foreseen by Uriel,” Michael says dismissively. “You did get my letter, didn’t you?”
Lucifer’s lip curls. “My son has nothing to do with Heaven, or any of you. And he never will.”
“You can’t stop prophecy, Samael.”
“Do not call me that!”
Michael smirks. “Dad’s retiring. Which means the throne of Heaven is open for the taking. And when I take it, this little fantasy of yours, playing house on Earth... It’s over.”
“Oh, I would just love to see you try,” Lucifer says in a low, dark voice. He manages to hide how the thought of Michael as God bloody well terrifies him. “And what makes you think you will become God?”
Michael shrugs his good shoulder. “Who else would take it? Amenadiel is pretending to be human with his pet shrink. You’re going back to Hell. None of the other angels are qualified. Of course Dad’s going to give it to me.”
“We’ll see about that. Teivel, doodmaak,” he orders in Lilim.
Instantly, the Hellhound launches himself from Lucifer’s side across the room, jaw wide open and prepared to sink three rows of deadly razor-sharp teeth into an archangel neck. Unfortunately, Michael’s reflexes have improved since Lucifer last saw him, and he’s gone just as Teivel’s jaw snaps shut. The hound looks around for his prey, rushing outside to the balcony to search, but Michael is likely back in the Silver City, or wherever he’s hiding out.
“Teivel, terug,” Lucifer calls him back inside. “He’s gone. Good pup.” He reaches down to pat the hound, whose glamour slowly fades back into place, on the head. “Guard.” Teivel stands at what would be attention for a human, spine straight, head tilted up and searching for threats.
Lucifer only hesitates a moment before seeking his phone. His family should be priority, and they are, which is why he makes the call first. It rings twice before there is an answer, and Lucifer only says four words: “We need to talk.”
“Michael wants to become God?” Amenadiel says incredulously an hour later.
Lucifer, Chloe, and the other angel are seated in the sitting room, everyone having been brought up to speed on Michael’s visit—and his threats. “So it would seem,” Lucifer says, sipping his whiskey. “And he is under the impression that the job will simply be handed to him by default.”
Amenadiel shakes his head, speechless. “That would be a catastrophe.”
“You’re telling me,” Lucifer mutters.
Neither he nor Chloe has seen his eldest brother since learning just how badly Amenadiel interpreted their father's orders for eons. While Chloe has made threats against the angel that were impressively creative, clearly she's set that aside in light of dealing with their common enemy. Michael, with his cruelness and scheming, is a far bigger threat to all of them than Amenadiel could ever be.
“Has your dad actually told you who is going to be God once He retires?” Chloe asks, blinking rapidly. “And I can’t believe that sentence came out of my mouth.”
Lucifer chuckles, rubbing her back. “You’re doing splendidly, darling.”
Better than he ever could have hoped she would, to be honest. Back when she didn’t believe in the celestial, Lucifer was convinced he’d lose her entirely, because she would run once she learned the truth. Yet here she is, right in the thick of it and not even flinching—well, much. She has her moments, which is completely understandable, after what she’s been through.
“No, He hasn’t,” Amenadiel says broodingly. “He’s been exceptionally tightlipped, only telling me that He wants one of His children on the throne.”
“Where will He even go?” is Lucifer’s question. He tries to imagine his father at a retirement home with His ridiculous cardigans and socks with sandals doing arts and crafts and playing golf with fellow retirees. It doesn’t paint a pretty picture. “I mean, can God even retire? Do the Omnis just pass on to the next ascendant to the throne?”
His brother shakes his head. “I honestly don’t know, Luci. But if Michael does want the throne, he won’t stop until he gets it.”
And that cannot happen. Lucifer doesn’t know if his twin, as God, could truly force him back to Hell, and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to find out. He also isn’t particularly thrilled about that ‘Prince of Heaven’ comment Michael made about Lucas. And the way Michael looks at Chloe...Lucifer’s lip curls into a snarl at the thought.
“Then I’ll stop him,” says the Devil.
Chloe and Amenadiel look at him, stunned. “What?” Chloe whispers. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugs. “Michael is under the impression that Amenadiel doesn’t want the position, and that I’ll suddenly be unceremoniously thrust back into Hell, which puts me out of the running. But I am not going back to Hell. I will fight it with my last breath, and if it means taking the throne of Heaven...well. I’m not happy about it, but better me than bloody Michael.”
“You want to be God?” Amenadiel says, dumbfounded.
“Well, want is a strong word, brother. But what’s that saying about reluctant rulers?” he says casually, sipping his whiskey.
Honestly, the last thing Lucifer desires is to sit upon another throne. And he doesn’t imagine he would have much support from the other angels if he tried. If it were up to Lucifer, his father would remain God and keep the status quo, but if that option is off the table because He wants to set off for Florida or wherever and play golf all day long...
“Unless you would be willing to take the job, brother?” he suggests to Amenadiel.
Lucifer has had his problems with Amenadiel in the past—many, many problems—but overall, at his core, Amenadiel is good at heart and a strong leader. The other angels, Lucifer included, looked up to him, “our very own action star”. He would be fair, and deep down, Lucifer trusts him to do the right thing when it matters.
Most importantly, though, Amenadiel has a child of his own, and he understands the need to remain with one’s family, their offspring. He wouldn’t thrust Lucifer back into Hell for eternity, separating him from Chloe, Lucas, and Trixie. Amenadiel has finally come to realize that Lucifer never belonged in the Infernal realm to begin with...and perhaps that their father acted a bit rashly.
Amenadiel couldn’t look more stunned if Lucifer hit him with a taser. “Well, I...” He sighs, frowning in thought. “I can’t say it’s something I ever considered...”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Dad’s been talking about retiring for a week, and you never once considered who might take over the throne?” he asks skeptically. “Maybe imagined yourself there wearing a pure white version of the dress you used to wear all over the place?”
Amenadiel glares. “For the last time, Luci, it was a robe.” Then a sheepish expression crosses the Eldest’s face. “Perhaps once or twice... But...Luci, I have a family here on Earth. I can’t be God.”
“What, and I don’t? Amenadiel, who says God has to rule from the Silver City?” Lucifer argues reasonably. “God makes the rules, yes? So, change how things are run, remain with your family, and keep that sniveling weaselly twin of mine off the bloody throne. Brother, think about it... What happens when Michael decides that any being with a celestial bone in their body belongs in Heaven? That would include not only you, but your daughter. Chloe. Our son. And if he gets the power of God and forces me back to Hell, I will be powerless to resist it.”
Amenadiel blanches, shaking his head. “We cannot let that happen,” he says in a low, determined voice. “He cannot take the throne.”
“My thoughts, exactly, glad you’re on board. So, who’s it going to be?”
“Uh, excuse me,” Chloe says incredulously, staring at Lucifer like she’s never seen him before. “Can we talk about this? In private?”
Amenadiel’s eyes widen, probably sensing the oncoming storm, and he stands abruptly. “I’ll just...let you talk. And I’ll think about what you said, Luci.”
Lucifer watches his brother leave through the balcony, his restored wings carrying him back to his own family. He turns to his partner, and inwardly winces. Chloe looks angry and confused. “You wished to chat, darling?”
She scoffs. “So, let me get this straight: You’re just going to go be God, without even discussing it with me?”
“We’re discussing it now, yes?” Her expression darkens. Lucifer sighs. “Detective, it wasn’t exactly a well thought out comment,” he admits. “It certainly isn’t something I’ve ever considered for myself, let alone desired, despite what the history books may say; I never sought to replace my father on the throne. But if it’s the difference between keeping my family and my freedom, and being locked away from you forever? I told you, I shall do whatever it takes.”
Chloe deflates, looking around the room for answers to questions she can’t quite voice. “But...being God? How would that be any different?”
“Well, for one, you have wings, Chloe,” he reminds her. “And from what my father said at family dinner, you are, or will be, a full angel, which grants you access to the Silver City. He said it Himself that the gates are open to you. Lucas will have wings one day—”
“But Trixie won’t,” she says firmly. “Lucifer, I’m not going to leave my daughter behind.”
Lucifer stares at her, affronted. “And I would never ask you to, Chloe. As I told Amenadiel, who says God must rule from the Silver City? He has been away for ages, and the universe hasn’t imploded; why couldn’t I do the same thing? Let the other angels take care of Heavenly minutiae, including Hell, if needs must. I ran the place for eons; it’s somebody else’s turn.”
“So, you want to trade one throne for another?” Chloe asks. “And what happens if you can’t rule from Earth? Are you going to just leave us?”
“Never,” he growls fiercely. “I have promised you so many times, Chloe Decker, that I will not leave you, or our family. And I do not break promises. Especially not to you.” Softening his tone, he reaches out to cup her cheek. Her eyes are swimming with tears of anger or frustration, perhaps something else. And he hates that he’s doing this to her. “I don’t know that I have another choice, Chloe,” he whispers, anguished.
“What happened to, ‘there’s always a choice, Detective’?” she asks, mimicking his voice. He doesn’t smile this time. “And what happens if you lose?”
He scoffs lightly. “Such faith in my capabilities, Detective,” he teases.
A shadow of a smile appears on her lips. “I’m serious. Michael has all of Heaven at his command. The other angels...I’m assuming they would be on his side.”
Lucifer shrugs. “I genuinely do not know. Yes, of course, there would be several he could recruit. But I’m not sure I’m as friendless in the Silver City as I previously believed.” Chloe’s eyebrows furrow in question. “I know I would have Amenadiel on my side—he could talk round some of the other angels, I would imagine.” He tilts his head. “And...well, I think Azrael would be on my side. She is a bit of a pacifist, but she wouldn’t want Michael in charge of the universe anymore than the rest of us.”
Sighing, Chloe rests her head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers brokenly.
“Oh, Chloe...” he sighs, his heart aching as he holds her. “I’m not going anywhere, darling. Not now. Not ever. I promise you.”
When she sniffles, he realizes she’s crying. He closes his eyes, wishing he could Will away her fear. Lucifer feels it, too; he’s self-aware enough to realize that this could all go south in an instant. That he could lose everything. But if it comes to it, he will kill to protect what is his. And if Michael gets in his way... He doesn’t want to...but he will.
Chloe takes a deep breath and straightens. Lucifer reaches up to wipe away the few tears that have fallen with his thumb, before she can roughly scrub them away herself. “You have me on your side, too. Maybe I’m not a full angel, yet, whatever that means, but I’ve got the wings and the immortality, and the invulnerability. I have my sword, and I know how to use it. And those bullets.”
As terrifying as the prospect of Chloe facing off with an army of angels is, Lucifer couldn’t possibly imagine anyone better to have his back. “I know I do,” he murmurs, brushing her hair behind her ear. “And it means the world to me.”
“Do you really think you could do it?” she asks seriously. “Become God, Ruler of the entire universe?”
Rather than his go-to cocky answer, Lucifer considers the question. It isn’t something to be taken lightly, and not something he ever would have sought on his own... But if it comes down to himself or Michael ruling a world where his son and stepdaughter, and his niece, are growing up... Where Chloe lives and works... Where his friends and family are...
“Yes,” he says honestly. “I think I could.”
Chloe stares intently at him for a few moments, her eyes darting left to right between his own. Finally, she straightens her shoulders, juts out her chin defiantly, and nods. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
One of the things that Chloe both loves and hates about Lucifer is his impulsivity. He sees something he wants, and he just...he goes for it. It’s gotten him in trouble so many times, several with her specifically, but somehow, it always seems to work out. There are downsides, of course, when his impulsive side hurts others—and not necessarily physically. Leaving her sitting alone at a restaurant, running off to Las Vegas (twice), and so many other times. Sometimes, he just doesn’t think before he acts or says something.
Like today. Suggesting that he will become God. What does that even look like, day-to-day? Would he commute to Heaven to set tasks for the angels? Would he be gone for weeks at a time, leaving Chloe to raise two kids on her own, and seeing them whenever he has time? Or is he wrong about ruling from Earth, and he will have to leave her and the children behind?
And what does it look like to be God’s wife? Would that make Chloe Goddess? That isn’t even something she can comprehend. And she isn’t sure she even wants to.
Curled up in the corner of the couch, she watches Lucifer on the floor with Lucas propped up by pillows, playing some game only they know the rules of. She tries to picture him as God sitting on the throne of Heaven with her by his side. And she just...can’t. She can’t see it. Because it’s insane.
Of course, she has every faith in Lucifer. Nobody in the universe believes in Lucifer Morningstar more than Chloe Decker. He can be immature and selfish and impulsive and annoying, and a hundred other things; but he is also capable of so much he doesn’t even realize. He’s so intelligent and can see things in a way nobody else can. He’s already spent billions of years ruling an entire plane of damned souls and demons—and from what she can tell, as much as he hated it, he did a damn good job of it—no pun intended. He is the best partner she has ever had or could ever ask for.
Maybe he could do this.
And like he said, better him than his twin. She shudders at the thought of Michael ruling everything. Although she doesn't have much experience with him, what she has seen, and what Lucifer has told her... He would be the worst choice for God. Forcing Lucifer back into Hell for good would only be the tip of the iceberg. It would be a nightmare come to life. Michael has no regard for Earth or humans; nothing good could come from that. And what Lucifer said, about him deciding everything that is celestial belongs in Heaven. It would include herself and Lucas, and if God commanded it...
Then again, Lucifer has spent an eternity defying God. Why couldn’t Chloe?
A deep sense of foreboding settles in her stomach that she can’t quite explain. Amenadiel said Michael would stop at nothing to become God, if he set his mind to it. Would it all come down to some sort of angelic battle, twin versus twin?
The thing with that is, Lucifer has something Michael doesn’t: A reason to fight. Michael likely just wants the power that being God would provide, ruling over all of the angels, humans, and Earth.
But Lucifer... He’s a father and a soon-to-be husband. He has always been a fierce protector. Especially when it comes to Chloe. And he will be of Lucas and Trixie as well, no question. Lucifer truly has something—everything, really—to lose if this goes badly, as do the people who love him, and he will put his all into...whatever happens next.
As hard as she tries, though, she can’t block out the thoughts of what the world would be like if it does go badly. If Lucifer fights Michael and loses. At best, he goes back to Hell for eternity; at worst, he is wiped from existence. It is agonizingly painful to just think about it.
“Chloe.”
She startles and turns from where she’s been staring out the balcony doors. Lucifer is sitting beside her, Lucas asleep in his swing. She clears her throat. “Yeah?”
Lucifer sighs, reaching out to pull her against his chest. Instantly, her arms wrap around his waist and she tucks her head beneath his chin. He presses his lips to the top of her head. “It’s going to be all right,” he murmurs.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. And do you know why?” She shakes her head. Lucifer tilts her head up with his fingers, and she can see the steely determination in his eyes belying the smile on his lips. “Because I’ve something to fight for.”
She smiles. “I was just thinking that.”
Lucifer hums, pleased. “Great minds think alike. We don’t know anything yet, Detective. For all I know, my father intends to appoint somebody to the throne, and Michael’s taunting will have been for nothing. And if that is what my father is planning, the smart move will be to appoint Amenadiel over either Michael or myself.”
“Amenadiel doesn’t seem to want it, either.”
He gives her a look. “And since when does my father care about what His children desire when it comes to a bloody throne?” he deadpans. “My point is, all of this worrying is doing nobody any good, love. Let’s wait until there is actually some information to worry over, hmm?”
Chloe sighs but nods, resting her head on Lucifer’s shoulder. He hugs her tightly, resting his cheek atop her head. She smiles a little; she loves Lucifer hugs, as much as Trixie hugs. Once he got over his aversion to non-sexual touch (at least with her) and began initiating cuddling when not in bed, she learned just how touch-starved he is, likely due to all of his time in Hell. Chloe won’t let him return to that place; no way, no how.
They’ll find a way. They have no other choice.
Finally, the day comes that Chloe and Lucifer are due to return to work at the LAPD. Chloe has been both looking forward to and dreading this moment. Looking forward because she is a workaholic who is damn good at her job, and she genuinely enjoys the work; dreading because it means leaving Lucas at home all day long with somebody who isn’t herself or Lucifer.
As it turns out Amelia is perfectly suited to care for an angel baby. After signing a slew of non-disclosure agreements stating the utter ruin that would befall her life should she speak to a living soul about what she sees anywhere in Lux, or with Lucas, Chloe, Lucifer, and even Trixie, Amelia was indoctrinated into the celestial insiders’ club. Linda was on hand in case they needed an emergency therapist as Lucifer showed the nanny one of his feathers. And when she didn’t fall into what he calls celestial hysteria, she got the full blast of his wings. There was a bit of wonder and awe, but Amelia snapped out of it quickly enough. Lucifer patiently answered her celestial-based questions, and she agreed to continue working for them, knowing that Lucifer is the Devil.
Lucifer is still in mild shock over it. One of these days, Chloe will convince him that people who truly know him (Dan excluded, of course) don’t have overtly negative reactions.
It does take quite a bit of stress off of Chloe’s shoulders, knowing they have somebody who knows the truth caring for their son. She spent some time imagining Lucas at a daycare center when he’s a little older and suddenly sprouting wings in front of a bunch of other small children and teachers. It was a nightmare.
They also talked to Amelia about the possibility of caring for Linda and Amenadiel’s daughter, Emily, every now and then—she would, of course, be fully compensated for the added childcare. And she was fine with that, as well, much to Linda’s relief. For now, though, Amenadiel is a stay-at-home dad...along with his own dad, but they’re trying not to think too hard on that.
Getting back to the real world, the one Chloe grew up in where murders occur that need solving is a bit of a relief, if for no other reason than that it’s cut and dry for her: Somebody is murdered; she and Lucifer investigate, examine evidence, and find the killer to solve the case. That is the world Chloe understands and involves zero celestial shenanigans. They’ll be back at work with Dan and Ella. She’s even become popular amongst some of the other officers and detectives; rookies even come to her seeking advice. And after everything with Palmetto...it’s a breath of fresh air.
She knows she has Lucifer to thank for that. Ever since he became her partner, her status in the department has picked up, along with their stellar solve rate. The brass at City Hall talk about how amazing she and Lucifer are, and she knows they have eyes on her. There is every possibility that, one day, she could be up for promotion to Lieutenant.
And that is something that has her torn. On the one hand, it’s a major move in her career. It’s not as if she needs the money; in a few months, she’ll be married to Lucifer Morningstar and will never have to worry about working another day in her life if she doesn’t want to. But it’s more personal satisfaction. Something she knows her dad would be proud of her for, and she would be proud of herself. Not to mention, she’d be out of the field, away from the danger with steadier work hours, unless something comes up that requires her attention, to give her time with her young, growing children.
On the other hand...she’ll be out of the field. Away from the action. And she does love the action. She enjoys investigating, finding clues, solving puzzles, being part of a team, and working with Lucifer, of course. As a Lieutenant...well, she won’t need a partner, will she? A lot of the job is paperwork, and Lucifer tends to have a severe allergy to it a lot of the time. Although, he has gotten better about helping her since they became a couple. It is a highly stressful position, but she thinks she could handle it.
But she’s getting way ahead of herself.
Right now, she’s still a detective, and this is her first day back to work after maternity leave.
Lucifer woke up in a grumpy mood. Despite rolling over and kissing her into consciousness until she forgot her name, he has been snippy and snarky with both her and Trixie. And he won’t put Lucas down for anything but nursing—the moment he’s finished with Chloe, Lucifer takes him back and burps the baby himself.
“Babe. You’re going to have to put him down sometime,” she says softly, watching as Lucifer tries to style his hair one-handed with a two-month-old baby in his other arm.
“He doesn’t wish to be put down,” Lucifer says shortly.
Chloe rolls her eyes, crossing the bathroom to lean beside her boys. She runs a hand through Lucas’s dark curls, and gets a huge smile in return, which, of course, makes her smile. Lucas has inherited Lucifer’s smile—that charming look with the dimples that mesmerizes anybody who sees it. “I know it’s difficult, going back to work,” she says gently.
Lucifer sniffs, trying to open his jar of pomade with one hand—and fails. Chloe reaches over to unscrew the cap for him. “Not sure what you’re referring to, Detective,” he says primly.
She gives him a knowing, cut-the-bullshit look. “You don’t want to leave Lucas with somebody else while we go to work. Right?” she says. He doesn’t meet her gaze or answer. Which is answer enough. “I know that it’s difficult.”
“Yes, you’ve said that. Is there a point to this?” he snaps.
Rather than snap back at him, she bites her tongue, because she knows exactly what’s going through his mind—that he’ll miss some milestone of Lucas’s or that Lucas will miss them, or he’s just gotten used to spending all day, everyday with their son, and now they aren’t. She went through it with Trixie, and she’s going through it now, too.
“He’ll be okay. You aren’t abandoning him.” When he stiffens, she knows she hit the nail on the head. “Lucifer. We’re coming back. We’ll always come back. And Lucas knows that we love him. Don’t you, Duckling?” she adds, leaning in to blow a raspberry against her son’s cheek. His smile widens and he makes a cooing noise. “Yes, you do. You know that your daddy will always come home to you. And that he loves you more than anything in the world. Just like Mommy.”
Lucifer is suddenly misty-eyed. “I don’t want to leave him,” he says in a small voice.
Chloe nods, a little choked up herself. “I know. Me neither. But maternity leave is over, and we have to return to work at some point. Unless you want to revisit being a stay-at-home dad?”
She wouldn’t be upset with him in the least; that he loves his son enough to give up being her consultant and partner to raise Lucas would make her so proud of all the progress he’s made in the last year. And she is so proud of the progress he’s made in the last year. He went from her reliable when it counts but otherwise wayward partner to the one person she trusts with every aspect of her life. Someone who has her back no matter what she does or what’s happening in his own life. To sharing a life together, and building a family. He’s overcome so much to get to this point and it amazes her every time she thinks about it.
“You know I’m proud of you, don’t you?” she blurts, resting her hand low on his belly.
Lucifer pauses in his hair styling to look over at her, stunned surprise in his eyes. “Where’s this coming from?” he asks with a sweet smile on his face.
She shrugs. “I was just thinking about how far we’ve come in the last year. How far you have come, and you amaze me, Lucifer. You’ve grown so much, and I could not be prouder to call myself your partner.”
All the air rushes out of his lungs and he looks at her like she’s the one who hung the stars, rather than himself. “Likewise, Chloe,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with emotion. “And thank you. Nobody has ever...believed in me the way you do, Detective. And it means the world to me, truly.”
And isn’t that heartbreaking? A being who has lived since the creation of the universe, and nobody has ever told him that they’re proud of him, or believed in him, until her. “I’ll tell you as often as you need to hear it. But in the meantime, can I hold my baby, please?”
Chuckling, Lucifer looks between her and Lucas, torn, but does hand her their baby. “I suppose it would be quicker with two hands, wouldn’t it?”
She leans up to kiss him. “I love you. And so does Lucas. Everything will work out.”
“Promise?”
“Always.”
When it actually comes time to hand Lucas over to his new nanny and leave them for the day, neither Chloe nor Lucifer are particularly eager to do so. Trixie is waiting for them impatiently at the elevator to be driven to school while the new parents hug and kiss the baby. Tears are shed, and even Lucas cries a little when Chloe finally hands him over to Amelia.
“Okay, you have the list of emergency numbers, the pediatrician’s number... Do you have our numbers?” Chloe frets. Beside her Lucifer has stuffed his hands in his pockets, probably to keep from snatching Lucas back from Amelia and locking himself in the nursery with the baby all day.
Amelia smiles kindly. “I have all the phone numbers in my phone—under aliases—and the lists you wrote for the kitchen and the nursery,” she says patiently. “I promise you, I got this, Chloe.”
Sighing, Chloe puts her hands up in supplication, her heart aching as she watches her baby play with Amelia’s long hair. “Right. Of course... And you’ll call if anything happens?”
“Detective, I think we can trust that she will,” Lucifer says gently. “We should probably get a move on if we’re to get the Urchin to school on time.”
“Yeah, Mom, hurry up!” Trixie says from the elevator, bouncing from foot to foot impatiently.
“Okay! Okay...we’re going. I love you, Lucas, be good for Miss Amelia. And we’ll see you in a few hours.” She kisses Lucas’s head, and has to resist when he reaches out for her.
Lucifer wraps an arm around her shoulders to gently guide her away, but she can see his eyes lingering on Lucas as they go. “If you do need anything, Amelia, do call; we’re only a wing away, after all.”
“Got it,” Amelia promises, smiling as she bounces Lucas a little in her arms. “I’ll take great care of him, I promise.”
Biting her lip, Chloe nods and allows herself to be led into the elevator.
“Finally,” Trixie sighs irritably, shaking her head. “He’ll be here when we get back, Mom. And Amelia is so awesome, Lucas won’t even know you’re gone.”
Chloe’s face crumples at the thought. Lucifer hugs her, pressing his lips to her ear. “It’ll be all right, love.”
She doesn’t know which of them he’s trying to convince. At least Lucas didn’t make it worse by crying for them when they left, but it’s still one of the most difficult things in the world—leaving her infant son in the hands of an essential stranger. Taking a deep breath, she tries to shift back into DetectiveMode™. It doesn’t work.
When she feels Lucifer’s thumb brush across her cheek, she realizes she’s crying. “It’ll be all right, Detective,” he murmurs yet again.
“Okay, Mr. I’m Not Putting the Baby Down,” she mutters, dropping her head to his chest. He rubs her back comfortingly.
“He'll be fine, Mom,” Trixie says bracingly. “Amelia won’t let anything happen to him.”
Chloe reaches out and pulls her daughter in for a hug. “No, I know that, Monkey. It’s just difficult leaving a new baby behind, is all. Your daddy and I were the same way when you were Lucas’s age. In fact, Daddy cried all the way to the precinct that first day.” She instantly regrets saying anything when she feels Lucifer stiffening beside her. Looking up, there’s a smirk growing on his lips. “And don’t you dare tease him about it, Lucifer.”
He has the nerve to look affronted, placing a hand to his chest. “I would never tease him, Detective!” he says with entirely feigned offense. She gives him a look. He relents, his expression shifting to mischievous and, well, devilish. “On this particular topic, anyway. Besides, for the first, and I do hope it’s the last time in three years, I can actually relate with Detective Douche.”
Rolling her eyes, she turns back to her daughter. “The point is, we didn’t want to leave you. I briefly considered leaving the LAPD to raise you, actually.”
“You did?” Lucifer asks, stunned. She nods.
Trixie shrugs. “I like that you’re a mom and a detective,” she says simply. “You’re a total badass, too.”
“Trixie,” Chloe says, trying to sound admonishing through her amusement. “Language.”
And Lucifer is no help, laughing. “Right you are, Urchin.”
Grinning, Trixie lifts her fist in his direction, signaling she wants a fist-bump. He stares at it for a moment, like he has no idea what to do with it—or her. Finally, he gingerly taps his own fist to hers, and Trixie instantly mimes exploding fireworks with her hand. “Lucas will think so, too. You know, when he’s old enough to think about anything.”
“Well, thank you, Monkey. That means a lot to me. But you and your brother will always be most important, badass Detective or not.”
“You’d get bored staying at home all day,” Trixie argues reasonably. “I know you were working on those cold case files while you were out for the last two months.”
“She’s not wrong, Detective,” Lucifer says as the elevator doors open. “And it would be quite the shame for you to give up detectiving, especially when you’re so exceptionally good at it. Just imagine the higher rate of killers escaping justice and punishment were you to quit.”
She looks at him. “Are you seriously guilt-tripping me into staying at the LAPD?” she asks, amused.
“I would never,” he says again, this time seriously. “Merely stating that protecting and serving was your dream, and you’ve achieved it in spades.”
They all pile into Chloe’s car, with her at the wheel. “Like I said, it was only for a brief moment. I always wanted to be a mom, but I also wanted to work and set a good example for my kids, especially when I had a daughter, to show her what a strong woman can achieve. Not that there is anything wrong with being a stay-at-home mom; it’s absolutely commendable...if that’s what you want to do with your life. It just wasn’t for me.”
“You’re an awesome example, Mom,” Trixie pipes up from the backseat. “I always brag to my friends about you.”
And Chloe is going to start crying again. “You do, Monkey?”
Trixie nods. “Totally. And when I’m President of Mars, I’m naming a region after you—and for all my family members.”
“Still want to be President of Mars, huh?” Chloe smiles, pulling out of the parking space.
“Well, an astronaut first,” Trixie announces decisively. “Lucifer let me try on his NASA helmet and it was so cool!”
Chloe’s eyes widen as she shoots her partner a glare, while said partner immediately looks away with an innocent expression on his face. You let her try on one of your sex costumes? she asks incredulously.
I assure you, it’s been thoroughly sanitized and steam-cleaned, darling. Everything in the Tryst Treasure Trove is cleaned following each and every use. I would never endanger a human in that regard.
Rolling her eyes, she focuses on driving. “Unbelievable...”
Chapter 20: Conditions
Notes:
Slightly early update. It's Thursday somewhere, right? But hey, my personal tragedies are your gain.
Enjoy the chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After dropping the Urchin off at her day prison, Chloe and Lucifer make their usual morning stop at Beelzebean for their (and Miss Lopez’s and the Douche’s) coffees. Lucifer spends the time it takes for their order to be prepared showing off photos of Lucas to one of the baristas he’s known for the last few years. Chloe looks on in amusement—at least he seems to be out of trouble for the Urchin/NASA helmet issue.
Now that they’re out of the penthouse and going through their typical workday routine, the sharp ache over leaving their son has dulled a bit. Every five minutes or so, though, he has to fight the urge to text Amelia for a check-in, and it does help that Chloe seems to have the same inclination; Lucifer has watched her reach for her phone no less than six times since getting into line at the coffee shop. Knowing that all parents go through this does help a little, as well, but it’s still one of the most difficult things Lucifer has ever done. He’s hoping for a nice, complicated, grisly murder to help take their minds off it.
“For the millionth time, we don’t hope for murders, Lucifer,” Chloe chides him when he says so aloud.
“Perhaps you don’t, darling. But I happen to think it will be just the thing to knock the rust off our detectiving skills and keep us from worrying about Lucas every two minutes,” he says breezily, opening the door to the precinct for her.
On their way to the homicide department, they’re stopped and welcomed back by nearly everyone they pass—or, well, Lucifer is; while the Detective’s status amongst her colleagues has risen, her popularity will never be as high as the Devil’s. He pretends not to be smug about that. Eventually, she slips away, telling him through prayer she’ll meet him at her desk, and leaves him to it. He’s just showing off more photos of Lucas when he senses eyes on him, ones that come with a feeling to which he’s no longer accustomed but that is unmistakable.
Gritting his teeth to keep from screaming in frustration and annoyance, he turns and finds his father leaning against a pillar, that insufferable smile on His lips as He watches Lucifer. “What are You doing here?” Lucifer hisses, dragging his father to a quieter part of the precinct.
“Well, you have made it clear that you do not wish for Me to be near your home, so I thought we could speak here,” his father says as though showing up at Lucifer’s workplace is a perfectly logical solution. Instead of, oh, say, leaving Lucifer alone as he asked. Mum seemed to have the same problem when She was on Earth and never got the hint, either. Is it a parent thing that requires them to annoy their children within an inch of their lives? Lucifer makes a mental note not to do the same to his own son later in life.
Taking a breath and letting it out slowly, Lucifer glares at his dad. “And what is so bloody important that You had to follow me here?” he asks with forced patience. He seems to use that tone a lot with his father.
God (Lucifer refuses to call Him ‘Dennis’, even in his own head) clasps His hands behind His back. “Amenadiel tells Me you have shown an interest in taking over for Me once I’ve retired.”
Of course Amenadiel did. “If the only other option is bloody Michael, then yes,” Lucifer says harshly. “I’ll not leave my loved ones in the hands of a sociopathic archangel. One sociopathic God was enough.”
His father ignores the last comment. “And you think you could do a better job than I did?”
“Well, I’d certainly be more present than You ever were. And nobody says I have to do things the way You did, either; perhaps it’s time for a changing of the guard, as it were.”
“Perhaps you’re right. Have you given more thought to visiting the Silver City in the meantime?”
Lucifer rolls his eyes. “No, I’ve not. Chloe is the one who desires to visit, and she isn’t ready to leave our son for a day trip to Heaven just yet. Not to mention, I’ve a feeling my siblings may have something to say about the Devil walking through the gates, and I don’t want her going on her own.” Why he’s telling his father all this, he doesn’t know. Perhaps if He has enough information, He’ll go back and bother Amenadiel.
Dad hums, folding His hands behind His back and studying Lucifer closely. He knows that look; Dad is trying to read him. Well, that isn’t bloody well happening.
Lucifer decides he’s had more than enough of his father for one day. “Was there anything else, Dad? I’ve a Detective awaiting my arrival.”
“Would you permit Me to spend the day with you? To see how you work. I’ve spent much time with Amenadiel in the last couple of weeks; I’d like to catch up with you, too, Sa—Lucifer,” He corrects Himself at the last minute.
Lucifer blurts a harsh laugh. “Absolutely not,” he says firmly, “I don’t even want to be near You right now, much less ‘spend a day’ with You yipping at my heels. If I’ve not made it abundantly clear, Dad, I’ve no interest in mending fences or reliving ancient history; I simply want to live my life and protect those I love from celestial interference.”
“And yet, you wish to become God?” Dad tilts His head curiously. “If all you’re interested in is spending time on Earth...”
“Did You miss the part about protecting those I love? There are no lengths I won’t go to achieve that, and that includes taking over the Heavenly mantle.”
“And if I were to guarantee that your loved ones would be safe, no matter what?”
“You could only ensure that if You don’t give the job to Michael. In case You’ve missed it, he doesn’t exactly have the highest opinion of Earth or its inhabitants. And there is no bloody way I’m allowing him to send me back to Hell.”
Dad shakes His head. “I’ve already made the announcement that Hell no longer requires a warden. Michael understands that.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Does he, now? You’ve still been annoyingly tight-lipped on what that means, exactly, or why You’ve decided to make it so.”
“I suppose it is rather open for interpretation, isn’t it?”
And there are those bloody mysterious ways again. “Right. Lovely as this decidedly has not been, I’ve other places to be. Shouldn’t You be picking out retirement homes or more beige sweaters or something?”
“That’s something else I wished to speak with you about.”
Lucifer just barely manages to refrain from yanking out his majestic hair. “What?” he asks with an annoyed breath.
“I was thinking about going to your mother’s universe.”
That gets Lucifer’s attention. “You’re joking.” Dad smiles and shakes His head. “And what makes You think She would even let You join Her? Last I saw Her, She was planning on turning You into a divine flaming God-kebab.”
“I was rather hoping you might have a word with Her on My behalf. From what I could see, She listened to you more than anybody during Her time here on Earth, and I think She would listen now.”
Lucifer stares. “You want me to mediate Your marriage troubles with Mum? What, because I haven’t been shoved between enough of Your arguments in the past? No thanks.”
It was bad enough when his mother was in his ear, trying to convince him to start a war in Heaven and destroy his father. He only just convinced Her to go to that new universe; what makes Dad think Lucifer could manage this?
“Consider it your first task in becoming the new Me,” Dad says placidly. “And you seem eager to get Me off of Earth—two celestial birds, one stone.”
He supposes his father has a point there, as much as Lucifer does not want to admit it. Not that he would even know how to go about doing it in the first place, let alone traveling to that other universe. “I’ll consider it,” he mutters. “Now, am I free to get on with my day, Father?”
“Of course, son.”
“Lovely...”
Lucifer turns and walks away before He thinks of anything else to bring up. By the time he reaches the homicide department, what little good mood he had to begin with is thoroughly blasted to nothing. At least he managed to avoid his father tailing him and Chloe around all bloody day; he can only imagine how well that would go over with his partner. She is the kindest, most forgiving creature on the face of this planet, and yet he knows she holds a deep, deep resentment and fury towards God for how He treated Lucifer. There is no way she would manage an entire day of God shadowing and riding along with them without punching Him in his pleasant, Almighty face.
Then again, it might be worth having Dad around just to see that.
His thoughts turn to this ‘task’ his father requested: Talking Mum into allowing Him to move to Her universe. The only way Lucifer could see Her going for it (assuming Her rage hasn’t abated any) is with a reminder that if God is close enough, She could punish Him for sending Her to Hell. Faintly, he wonders whether God’s powers would be weakened in Her universe. And whether He’ll leave any powers behind for whomever takes over His throne.
Lucifer wouldn’t even know how to get into contact with Her; the only object he’s aware of that can open portals to other universes is the Flaming Sword, and he threw that into the empty universe behind Her. There’s Gabriel, he supposes, who can deliver messages anywhere, including different universes, or so Lucifer assumes—he’d have to ask his sister—though whether she would do him the favor or not is an entirely different story.
“Hey, there you are! What took you so long?” Chloe asks when he drops into his chair.
Rolling his eyes, he quickly brings her up to speed on his father’s latest visit.
She looks somehow less pleased than she has been with Dad. “I’m sorry, but it is not a child’s responsibility to solve his parents’ marital problems,” she says angrily. “He screwed up; He should be the one sorting it out.”
“Couldn’t agree more, darling,” Lucifer says loftily. “But if this gets Him off Earth quicker, I might just do it for that benefit.”
Chloe doesn’t look thrilled to hear it, but he knows she will allow him to make the decision, if that’s what he so chooses. “Just as long as this doesn’t spark Her going crazy again and starting a war with God on Earth,” she mutters under her breath.
Much as Lucifer would love to give her guarantees that that would unequivocally not happen...well. The Goddess of All Creation is anything but predictable. “I don’t even know if it’s possible for me to contact Her in the other universe. I have siblings who could possibly pass along messages between this one and Hers, but whether they would is an entirely different matter altogether.” He does have one possible alternate solution, but he doesn’t want to mention it yet, not until he’s had more time to think on it.
She makes a face, but doesn’t get a chance to respond due to squealing on the other side of the bullpen. Both of them look over in time to see a small, dark blur coming straight at Lucifer and wrapping their arms around his neck tightly, nearly cutting off his air.
“OhmyGod! It’s so great to have you guys back at work!” Miss Lopez exclaims, directly in Lucifer’s ear. He flinches and tries to back away, shooting Chloe a help me! look, but she just smiles and watches. Traitor. “Deckerstar back in the house!”
“Honestly, Miss Lopez, you behave as if you’ve not seen us once in the eight weeks we were away,” he says exasperated, though, really, he doesn’t mind as much as he pretends otherwise. Anymore. It’s nice to know they were missed. “You visited the penthouse at least once a week, and even babysat for the little Gremlin once.”
Finally, Ella releases him, darting around the desk to hug Chloe, who handles it with more patience than he had. “Yeah, but that’s different! You’re back at work now, and everything can get back to normal. It has not been the same without Deckerstar here!”
“We’ve missed you, too, Ella,” Chloe says, smiling.
“How’s the little dude? Got any new pictures for me?”
Chloe snorts a laugh. “About a million,” she mutters under her breath as Lucifer quickly reaches for his phone to start showing off photos again. “Where’s Dan, anyway? I haven’t seen him yet.”
Ella looks around. “I guess he took off on that stakeout he had planned.” She shrugs.
“Hey, Decker, LT asked me to drop this off for you. Welcome back!” One of the rookies walks past and hands her a case file.
“Anything good, Detective?” Lucifer asks, knowing it will annoy her. And sure enough...
She gives him a narrow-eyed glare. “No. Because murder is bad, Lucifer,” she says flatly, skimming the file. “And it looks like we’re headed for the fairgrounds. Ella—”
“Grabbing my kit, meet you there, Decker!” Ella hands back Lucifer’s phone and heads back to her lab.
“So, what terrible, awful, tragic murder do we have to investigate, Detective?” Lucifer asks, leaning towards her.
She rolls her eyes, but she’s hiding a smile, until her eyebrows shoot up the longer she reads. “Okay...th-that is a new one...”
“Detective?”
Chloe’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “It’s something you need to see...”
Lucifer stares, hands in his pockets. “Perhaps our murderer is a particularly macabre street artist?” he suggests as they view the scene before them. He tilts his head for a different perspective.
“Somehow, I doubt that,” Chloe says quietly, then calls a bit louder over her shoulder, “Can we get somebody to turn this music off?”
They’re standing in the L.A. County fairgrounds where the carnival is in town for the next couple of weeks. Specifically, at the carousel, the sort with the different colored equines that small humans can ride and go round in circles. What the appeal is, Lucifer hasn't a clue. Except, sitting atop one of the statue horses is the body of their victim, his neck wrapped with rope and tied to the pole. When they arrived, the carousel was still running, the whimsical music still playing from the speakers, which made it all the creepier. Lucifer has several quips about The Shining lined up.
“Why did nobody stop it before phoning the police?” Lucifer asks, leaning forward for a better look.
Chloe shrugs as the music is finally cut off. “People’s brains can completely stop functioning when they find a dead body, and common sense like that doesn’t occur to them. Or they’ll think it would count as disturbing the scene of the crime and they don’t want to get their fingerprints anywhere near it. Which they aren’t wrong about, but...”
“Sex act gone wrong?” Lucifer theorizes as the carousel finally slows to a stop.
She gives him an exasperated look. “Why would you think that?”
“The rope around his neck. Haven’t you ever heard of autoerotic asphyxiation, Detective? It heightens the orgasm, and happens to be the leading cause of death in flagrante delicto,” he says absently. He can feel her gaze on him, and turns to find her with an odd look on her face. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No... That look was something. I know your ‘nothing’ look, Detective.” And when she blushes, he knows that not only is it something, it’s something juicy. “Ooh, now, you have to tell me, darling.”
Chloe rolls her eyes. Is that...something you’re into?
He blinks at her. What? Being tied by my neck to a horse and brought to orgasm before dying? Can’t say I’ve ever tried that particular type of play.
She gives him another look.
He grins, but relents and answers her question. When done correctly, it can be intensely pleasurable upon achieving one’s orgasm, but as it is also incredibly dangerous to humans, I’ve tended to avoid those particular desires. And since I was invulnerable during sex, at least until you, it was quite difficult for me to achieve with a partner. Having said that, I have tried it and it is mind-blowingly pleasurable. But I wouldn’t say I'm into it, per se. He smirks, leering at her. Why, Detective? Do you wish to choke me in bed?
I’d like to choke you, all right; just not necessarily in bed.
She smirks, and before he can comment on the ‘necessarily’ part of her teasing, she gets back to work. “Okay, Ella, I know you literally just got here, but do we know anything?”
“Well, we can start with, he didn’t die by autoerotic asphyxiation,” Ella says, leaning down to examine the body, still tied to the horse. “His chest has been crushed in. Check this out...”
Lucifer steps up onto the carousel platform and turns to give Chloe a helping hand up. She smiles at him in thanks and they move over to Ella. “Oh, dear...” He leans closer for a better look. Ella carefully pulls the man’s disgustingly filthy t-shirt to the side and it looks as though the victim was hit with a sledgehammer—about a dozen or so times. Bones are sticking out of the chest, bruising covers the skin, and then there’s the blood. “I’m going out on a limb and assume that would be our cause of death?”
“That’d be my guess,” Ella says. “And there’s no ID on the body that I’ve found yet. Why arrange him like this, though?”
“Could be a dozen reasons,” Chloe says. “Flaunting the kill. Humiliating the victim, even in death. Who knows? Just remind me when Trixie wants to come to the carnival to keep her away from the carousel.”
Lucifer snorts a laugh.
“Don’t know why you’re laughing. She wants to visit this one. And if she does, you’re taking her,” Chloe says, grinning.
He stares at her in horror. “I beg your pardon! She has the Douche. Make him take her!”
“Moving on.” Chloe rolls her eyes. “Do we know who found the body?”
A nearby uniformed officer points out a scraggly-looking man with sleeves of what look to Lucifer to be prison tattoos on his arms and a bald head. Lucifer’s lip curls at the sight of a few Nazi-type tattoos. Nazis were always amongst his favorite to torture in Hell; most of them were bloody cowards and their screams were delightful. Some of the best tortures devised were created for them, as a matter of fact—Lucifer’s personal favorite: The Rusty Cock Grater. It involves a rusted cheese grater and the...well, it's rather self-explanatory. The only problem was, most of them didn’t have enough...material to work with. Hitler’s screams were especially satisfying.
“Ready, Lucifer?” Chloe says, gesturing for him to follow. He stays close to her, as he doesn’t like the way this man is already eyeing her, and hopes he doesn’t have to punch a white supremacist on their first day back at work.
What’s he saying? He’d love to punch a white supremacist on their first day back at work.
“Alan Davies? I’m Detective Decker. This is my partner, Mr. Morningstar. You found the body?”
Alan Davies smirks, licking his lips as he unsubtly checks Chloe out. “You’re a detective, huh? You find your badge on the back of a Barbie doll box, or did you sleep your way to the top?”
DON’T! Chloe prays, throwing out an arm to stop Lucifer from lunging after he growls low in his throat. “Mr. Davies, did you find the body?” she asks sternly, giving him her best don’t-fuck-with-me glare. That look cowers even Lucifer. But then, Lucifer is smart enough to know Chloe isn’t to be trifled with when she looks like that; this man clearly is not.
Rolling his eyes, Davies turns his head and spits out a dark wad of chewing tobacco, making Chloe scrunch her nose in disgust. Lucifer is still too busy wondering why he’s allowing her to restrain him. “Yeah, I did. Came to do maintenance on the merry-go-round there and Vick was just going in circles. Thought it was a sex thing at first—he’s got that kind of taste—but he didn’t say nothing when I told him to beat it.” He cackles, looking at Lucifer like he expects the Devil to laugh with him. “Get it, beat it? ‘Cause I thought he was beatin’ it.”
“Yeah, we get it,” Chloe says flatly. “His name was Vick? Do you know his last name?”
“Nope, only ever knew him as Vick. Sorry, sweetheart.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes briefly and waggling his finger at Chloe. “Hang on. I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”
Chloe stiffens. “What time did you find the body?” she asks evenly, though Lucifer can hear the tension in her voice.
The man’s gaze locks on her chest. “Uh, ‘round 7:30, thereabouts. Hey, listen, why don’t you come on back to my trailer. You can help me, uh, look for Vick’s last name, if you get my drift.”
“I beg your pardon!” Lucifer snaps before Chloe can tell him not to say anything. “Do you not see the ring on her finger? She is engaged to be married.”
“Never stopped me before.” The other man leers.
Lucifer, please. Don’t. Let me handle this.
He growls his annoyance, but the last thing he’ll ever do is not allow her to defend herself. And if she fails to get the point across, then it’s his turn. Very well. He’s already pre-planning this pondscum’s punishment.
“I am in no way interested in going anywhere with you, sir. If you want to go get his last name and come back, then I’ll have a male officer escort you. However, if you don’t stop staring at my chest, I’ll have you arrested for sexual harassment.” Lucifer hides a smile; even he knows that isn’t an arrestable offense unless it escalates, though it should be. “Now, do you have any useful information about the victim?”
Davies curls his lip at her. “You’re one of them lesbos, ain’cha?”
He’s all yours.
Lucifer doesn’t hesitate to punch the man in the face—not hard enough to knock him out or kill him, just to give him a bloody nose. “I would watch your tongue if you desire for it to remain in your mouth, pondscum,” he growls, flashing his Hellfire eyes for good measure.
“What the fuck, man? You broke my nose!”
“And I’ll do far worse if you don’t learn some respect. There is always room for another one of you on the Nazi wing down in Hell.”
Okay, enough. I didn’t mean punch him; I just thought you'd, you know, flash your eyes at him. Chloe doesn’t sound all that upset, though.
Yes, well, he kept speaking.
“Don’t go far, we’ll call medical about your nose.” Eventually... She seamlessly switches back and forth between praying and speaking. “And find out Vick’s last name.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever. Just keep that freak away from me,” Davies says, cupping his nose and eyeing Lucifer warily.
“He’s not a freak, and he just warned you to watch your mouth,” Chloe says in a low, cold, threatening tone, her own fist curling like she wants to get in on the action. Lucifer hopes she won’t, just so she won’t have to touch the pondscum.
Davies scurries away, and Chloe turns to Lucifer. “Thank you,” she says softly, giving him that loving smile he adores.
“I shall defend your honor any day, Detective.”
“I would have done it myself, but he can’t sue to take away your badge.”
“He wouldn’t dare.”
She sighs. “Though I am going to have to figure out how to write this in the report.”
“I didn’t see anything,” says a nearby uniformed officer. “Or hear anything.” He winks.
Lucifer nods in solidarity with the uni, making note of his name to send him a bottle of whiskey. “There you have it, Detective, no witnesses, no report.”
Rolling her eyes, and stifling a smile, she leads the way back to Ella, who was clearly watching the action. “What was that?”
“Somebody who doesn’t know when to not push his luck,” Lucifer says dryly, wiping his fist with one of Ella’s wet wipes. He’d use his pocket square, but then he’d have to burn it, and he rather likes this one.
“Nicely done, buddy!” For the second time today, somebody offers their fist for him to ‘bump’. Humans are strange creatures. “I would’ve punched him way before that.”
Chloe sighs. “Maybe we can get back to work? Although, it was very nicely done, Lucifer.”
The Devil preens. “Why, thank you, darling.”
“Just don’t make a habit of it.”
“Hmm. I wanted to get there before he figured out you were in Hot Tub High School. With any luck, I’ve punched the thought right out of his head.”
Chloe smirks, shaking her head. “Okay, according to our witness, the victim’s name was Vick. Don’t have a last name, yet—” Her phone rings, and she sighs in annoyance, reaching for it and frowning at the display. “Decker...Yes, this is she.” Then she immediately goes pale as she listens to whomever is on the other end of the line, reaching out to grasp Lucifer’s hand tightly—which she never does when on a case.
“Detective?” he asks quietly, trying to hear who is on the other line. His heart starts racing at the thought that it might be about their son. “Is it Lucas?”
She shakes her head at him. “Yes, okay, I’m on my way. Thank you.” She ends the call slowly, staring off in the distance, eyes darting back and forth—either she’s thinking hard or she’s in shock.
“Chloe, love? What is it?” Lucifer asks softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
For a moment, she doesn’t answer; instead, she turns into Lucifer’s chest and grips his jacket as she buries her face in his shirt. He cradles her head and exchanges a clueless look with Ella.
“It’s Dan, he’s been shot,” she murmurs muffledly.
Lucifer’s heart skips a beat and he swallows. “Right, then. I’ll drive. Where are we headed?”
On the way to St. Claire’s Hospital, Chloe makes the call to Charlotte. Apparently, the hospital called Chloe, as she is still listed as Daniel’s next of kin and emergency contact. She holds off on informing Daniel’s family until they know more about what’s happening with him.
“The last thing Dan will want if it isn’t serious is his mom fussing over him,” she explains, tilting her head back in the passenger seat.
“Did they say how serious it was?” Miss Lopez asks from the backseat. Another forensics tech was called in so that she could come with them.
Chloe shakes her head. “No. Just that he’s in surgery. Which reminds me, I need to call the Lieutenant, though he probably already knows.”
Although Lucifer has had a rough history with Daniel Espinoza, including the man shooting him after finding out he’s the Devil, they’ve become friends in the last few months. In fact, and Lucifer will deny it if asked, Daniel was instrumental in easing some of his fears about fatherhood after they spent some time talking in Lux. Before that, Daniel confided in Lucifer his fears of going to Hell, and the Devil helped talk him through his guilt—or at least, gave him advice on overcoming it. And the man has a lot of guilt to overcome, which is one of the reasons he began seeing Dr. Linda professionally. Everything from fights with his parents, to his marriage to Chloe, to believing he’s a poor father to the Urchin—he isn’t, and Lucifer told him so.
But if something happens to Daniel now, and he doesn’t survive his gunshot wound, there is no doubt in the Devil’s mind that he will go to Hell. And as much as Lucifer would like to, he can’t simply go down there and fly his friend up to the Silver City, whether the gates are open for him or not; Daniel has to overcome his own guilt for it to count, and it’s never been done before. The best Lucifer could do for him is freeze or change his Hell Loop, and that won’t do him any good; it will only delay his suffering.
Not to mention what it would do to Daniel’s family on Earth. Trixie would be worse than devastated. Chloe may not be married to Daniel any longer, but Lucifer knows she still cares quite a great deal about the man—despite her anger towards him regarding shooting Lucifer. Charlotte and Daniel have only been engaged a few months; she would be crushed. Then, there is Miss Lopez, and even Amenadiel, who he knows has become good friends with Daniel.
So many people will be affected if Daniel doesn’t survive. Lucifer has lost humans before, in the past, and it never particularly bothered him; either he didn’t care enough or he knew that they would go on to eternal life, one way or another. Then, he lost Delilah. And Father Frank. Both had hurt deeply, and even though he only knew Frank a short time, his death had quite a large impact on the Devil. He lost Chloe, briefly, and that was...well. There are no words to describe how that felt; devastating doesn’t even begin to cover it. It would shatter him into nothingness if he were to lose her permanently. And losing his other dear friends...
It isn’t something he ever wants to consider, and yet, here they are.
A sniffle from the passenger seat gets his attention and he looks over quickly to see Chloe wiping at her eyes. He reaches for her hand, weaving together their fingers. He’ll be all right, darling. Daniel is stronger than anyone gives him credit for, and he has quite a lot to fight for. I find that makes all the difference in the world.
She nods but doesn’t respond, squeezing his hand in gratitude.
When they finally arrive at the hospital, Lucifer sends the ladies inside and parks the car, sending his brother a text message to let him know about Daniel. No emojis this time.
Vaguely, it crosses Lucifer’s mind that his father could easily fix all of this. He has severe doubts that He would, though; He has always been quite adamant about not meddling in the mortality of humans. Not that it ever would have stopped Lucifer, but the only human he cared about enough to try and save was Chloe Decker. Really, though, that turned out quite well, he thinks.
Inside the hospital, he quickly finds Chloe and Ella at the front desk talking with the receptionist. Chloe looks frustrated and at the end of her tether. He places a hand at the small of her back, making her startle in surprise, but once she realizes it’s him, she leans into him for strength. And possibly patience.
“Daniel. Espinoza,” she tells the receptionist, and it doesn’t sound like the first time. Her tone is slow and deliberate as though the person she’s speaking to is deaf and dumb. “He’s an LAPD detective, brought in for a gunshot wound; the hospital called me.”
“And you are?” the disinterested receptionist asks, typing on her computer.
Chloe takes a deep, steadying breath. “Chloe Decker, his emergency contact.”
“Your Mr. Espinoza’s wife?”
“Ex-wife,” Chloe corrects the woman, rolling her eyes.
The receptionist looks up at her. “This here says you're his wife.”
“She was and then they divorced,” Lucifer says pointedly, “hence, the ex part of the statement.”
Suddenly, the receptionist’s expression changes from disinterested to lustfully interested. “I see.” Her voice takes on a breathy quality that Lucifer is all too familiar with. “And what about you? Are you married?”
“Yes, he is,” Chloe snaps. “Can you please tell me about Daniel Espinoza? What is his condition?”
Lucifer stares down at his partner, grinning at the (technical) lie. They may not be married legally, but they may as well be, as far as he is concerned. When the receptionist continues to stare at Lucifer, Chloe growls under her breath in frustration and looks to him for help.
Rubbing her back consolingly, Lucifer steps forward, looking for the receptionist’s name tag. “Ah, Brenda, is it? Lovely name. Brenda, dear, my partner is seeking information on a dear friend of ours,” he intentionally emphasizes ours, “Daniel Espinoza. And it would mean a great deal to me, personally, if you would be so kind as to provide us with the status of his condition?”
Brenda giggles breathily. “Sure, sweetie, I can do that for you.” She bites her lip, checks him out and starts typing.
Chloe turns away and makes a face of stressed out frustration. Lucifer leans over to brush a kiss to her hair. Breathe, love...
She just shakes her head and turns back to the desk, leaning against Lucifer. It takes a minute or so before Brenda stops typing. “Oh, here he is...Daniel Espinoza. He is currently in surgery, his condition has not been listed, yet, but I could have a doctor or nurse come speak with you?” she asks Lucifer hopefully, as though it would make her day to do something nice for him.
Inwardly, he rolls his eyes. “That would be splendid, thank you. Where might we find the waiting room?”
“Unbelievable,” Chloe mutters under her breath as she leads the way to the waiting room down the hall.
“Sorry, love. Unfortunately, I don’t come with an off switch,” he says, lacing his fingers with hers.
“Don’t I know it... It’s not your fault, Lucifer,” she sighs. “I’m just worried about Dan.”
Not knowing what to say to make her feel better, he squeezes her hand comfortingly.
Once they reach the waiting room, there is nothing to do but...wait. And Lucifer has never been good at waiting. The only thing of worth he’s ever waited for is Chloe, and even then, he was patiently impatient. Ella offers to get them all coffee, leaving the partners alone. The moment she’s gone, Chloe turns to Lucifer for a hug. He holds her close, cradling her head to his chest and pressing his cheek to her hair.
“It’s going to be all right,” he murmurs, hoping like hell isn’t lying. Or that it doesn’t turn into a lie. One detective has already tragically lost his life today.
According to the Lieutenant, Daniel and his stakeout partner were ambushed in their car. Daniel was hit in the chest; his partner died before the ambulance arrived. Lucifer has already informed Mazikeen of what happened, and she immediately stated she would hunt the humans who shot Daniel—and asked him to keep her apprised.
“What am I going to tell Trixie?” Chloe asks brokenly against his shoulder.
“Let’s wait until we speak to the doctors to find out Daniel’s condition before we get to that point, hmm? Whatever happens, I’m right here, Chloe. You’re not alone in this. All right?”
She nods, hugging him tighter. After a minute she pulls away, wiping roughly at her eyes. Lucifer tsks and brushes away her hands, using his thumbs to gently wipe her tears. She gives him a small yet genuine smile. “We should call Amelia and check on Lucas. We might need her to stay late tonight. And I can call my mom to pick up Trix; I don’t want her to have to wait in the hospital. If she comes here, she’ll want to stay with Dan and they won’t allow that overnight.”
“You call Amelia; I’ll call Mama Decker,” he offers. “That way you don’t stress yourself further speaking to your mother.”
Chloe huffs a wet, weak laugh, and he considers that a triumph under these conditions. Charlotte arrives while they’re both on the phone, looking just as worried and scared as they feel. “Have you heard anything?” she immediately asks when Lucifer finishes speaking with Penelope.
“Not yet,” he answers, holding out a hand for Charlotte. She takes it gratefully. “But a doctor or nurse shall be along shortly with an update—hopefully.”
“Lucas is doing fine,” Chloe reports. “And Amelia is happy to stay if we need her. She offered to keep Trixie, too.”
“Lovely girl.” Lucifer is relieved to hear his son is doing well, and feels guilty for not thinking of checking on him before now. “Your mother will pick up Trixie from school and take her to the beach house until you say otherwise,” he tells her. “I asked her not to mention anything about Daniel until we’ve more information on the situation.”
Chloe nods. “Thank you.” She stands up to pace, fingers laced behind her head.
Lucifer watches helplessly, wishing he could do more for her. He brings Charlotte up to speed on what they do know, and she closes her eyes, pressing her lips together, but still manages to look poised. Miss Lopez returns with coffees for all of them and a bag full of snacks, though nobody seems particularly hungry. Lucifer opens the bag of Cool Ranch Puffs he was given simply for something to do with his hands. He feels antsy and fidgety, and he’s trying not to be too annoying to the others. After what feels like hours, but is likely only about thirty minutes, a small woman dressed in maroon hospital scrubs comes into the room.
“Family of Daniel Espinoza?”
Charlotte shoots out of her chair and Chloe does a sharp aboutface, joining him at his side. “Yes, that’s us,” Chloe says hastily. “How is he?”
“I’m Dr. West. Detective Espinoza sustained a gunshot wound to the upper-left quadrant. He lost quite a lot of blood due to a nicked artery. We rushed him into surgery when the ambulance arrived, and we’re still working on getting the fragments out. I feel I should warn you, we did lose him twice, but we were able to revive him.”
Charlotte makes a choked sound; Chloe sounds as though the breath was punched out of her; Miss Lopez is compulsively rubbing the cross around her neck between her fingers, muttering soundlessly. Lucifer places an arm around the two former, reaching for Ella’s hand—she immediately latches onto him.
The doctor continues, “Right now, we’re most concerned about the blood loss; we’re giving him a transfusion throughout surgery, but as I said, he’s lost quite a bit. His condition is critical at the moment.”
“What are his chances of survival?” Lucifer asks somberly.
Dr. West hesitates. “I don’t like to give chances. We’re doing everything we can for Detective Espinoza, and will update you as soon as we can.”
Chloe nods, visibly holding back tears. “Right. Thank you, Doctor.”
“Yes, thank you,” Lucifer adds. “Do take care of him, he means quite a great deal to us.”
Doctor West smiles sympathetically. “We will.”
Miss Lopez sinks into a chair, her hands laced in front of her face. Lucifer thinks she may be praying and hasn’t the heart to tell her it’s a pointless endeavor. Charlotte blows out a breath when the doctor leaves, placing a hand on her forehead. Chloe turns to press herself against Lucifer again.
“He’s holding on,” Lucifer says firmly to all of them. “He’s fighting; that’s what matters, yes?”
Chloe nods. Lucifer tries not to think about what the doctor said about losing and reviving Daniel twice. Was it enough to send him to Hell briefly?
Chloe looks up at him, conflict in her eyes. He tilts his head questioningly. She bites her lip, as though there’s something she wants to ask him, but either doesn’t know how, or doesn’t know how he’ll respond.
What is it, love? he prays gently.
Would one of your feathers work to heal him?
Lucifer isn’t at all surprised by the question, because he’d expected it from the moment he heard Daniel was shot. But he hates the answer he has to give her. I truly don’t know, Chloe. I suspect it only worked for you because of the dormant divinity that lay within you at the time. If I use a feather on Daniel, it could work—or not. Or it could do untold damage on his body; an overload of divinity could fry his brain and his soul.
Chloe closes her eyes to hide her disappointment from him, but he sees it, anyway, and guilt floods him.
I’m sorry, Chloe. If there were anything I could do that I know wouldn't make the situation worse, you know I would do it. And not just for you; for Trixie and everyone else, as well.
She shakes her head. No, I know that, Lucifer. I’m not upset with you, I promise. I just hate this. Especially for Trixie. If Dan doesn’t make it...
Don’t think like that. Daniel is strong as he is stubborn.
What about your dad? she asks with the utmost hesitancy. Do you think He would help?
Lucifer shakes his head remorsefully, his heart aching for her. Dad has always been quite vehement that we are not to interfere in the lives or deaths of humans. He hasn’t stepped in for thousands of years; and I doubt He would now, either. I’m sorry.
She nods, biting her lip again, then turns around to continue her pacing.
Lucifer has never felt more helpless. He wants to fix this, the way he wants to fix every problem in the lives of his loved ones. And he bloody despises the fact that he can’t. He is the Devil, and the Lightbringer, and he may become God; how is it possible that he’s this powerless? For Dad’s sake, he had the power of Hell at his command; Light is his—
His phone buzzes with a text message. Sighing in irritation, he reaches for it. And can’t believe what he’s reading.
Lucifer sighs, glancing over at Chloe. He’ll tell her in a moment, but first he needs to think this through. Of course, he already knows what his father wants; He told Lucifer this morning at the precinct. Did He know this was going to happen? Lucifer scoffs inwardly. Of course He bloody well knew; He knows everything. Which means, He manipulated Lucifer.
Well, there’s a surprise!
So. The price to heal Daniel is to talk his mother into allowing his father to move to Her universe. Shouldn’t be that hard, right?
“Detective, a word?” he says softly.
Chloe frowns but nods, and he leads her out of the waiting rooms and down the hall. “What’s up?” She looks exhausted and wrung out as she runs a hand through her hair.
He hesitates. “I just received a text message from Amenadiel. It would seem that my father is willing to assist, after all,” he says carefully.
Rather than getting immediately excited, Chloe is clever enough to read between the lines. “But He wants something in exchange, doesn’t He?”
“So it would seem, yes. I believe He desires for me to speak with Mum on His behalf. When I asked Amenadiel what the price would be, he said, ‘Dad said you would know’. There isn’t anything else I can think of that He would have asked me to do. Recently, that is.”
Chloe sighs, shaking her head. “So much for a good and benevolent God,” she mutters sarcastically. “But He’ll really heal Dan? This isn’t some kind of trick, is it?”
“I don’t believe so. One thing I will say for my father is, He doesn’t lie. I think I get that from Him, actually. If He says He will do something, He will. There is always something He will desire in return, big or small, but He doesn’t outright deceive. He isn’t Michael.”
Scrubbing her hands across her face, Chloe thinks. “You already agreed?”
“I thought it best to get Him here as quickly as possible, yes,” Lucifer confirms gently. “If you are against this, Chloe, say so now.”
“No,” she says hastily. “No, if He’s really willing to help Dan, then...please.” Her eyes nearly overflow with tears. “Please, don’t let him die, Lucifer.”
He wraps her in his arms. “I won’t, Chloe,” he whispers into her hair. “I promise you, I will do everything within my power. I certainly didn’t expect my father to help; He must be bloody desperate to reconcile with Mum.”
“We can deal with that later. Let’s just focus on Dan right now, yeah?”
“Of course, Detective.”
“Don’t say anything to Ella or Charlotte,” she warns. “I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. And I’m sorry, but I do not trust your father.”
Lucifer shakes his head. “Nor do I. Not in most cases, anyway. As I said, my penchant for truth-telling likely stems from Him originally.”
“I trust you, Lucifer.”
He smiles, kissing her temple. “I know you do, darling. And you’ve no idea what that means to me.”
“I think I have an idea. Okay. Heal Dan, then deal with your mother. Shouldn’t be that difficult, right?” He smiles at her mirroring his thoughts again. And she once tried to tell him they were too different to be together...
Stifling what may well be a hysterical laugh, Lucifer shrugs. “I suppose we’ll see. At least Mum might genuinely be pleased to see me...” He makes a mental note to ensure She doesn’t have Azrael’s blade in hand when he speaks to her about letting Dad come to stay.
Notes:
For the record, this was entirely coincidental timing with Collision Course. Which I'll update tomorrow (Friday).
Thank you for reading.
Also, while I really enjoy all interaction with readers, please refrain from posting spoilers to any of my stories on social media. I'd prefer everyone got the chance to read any twists and turns for themselves. Thank you!
Chapter 21: Mozolprt
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Less than an hour later, Amenadiel and their father finally arrive at the hospital. Amenadiel pokes his head into the waiting room, gesturing for Lucifer to follow him. Lucifer taps Chloe on the knee and leads her out of the room, making their excuses to the others.
“Everything okay?” Ella asks, craning her head to see who is outside the room.
“Yeah, yeah,” Chloe says hastily, waving for her to sit. “We’re just going to talk with Lucifer’s brother real quick.”
“Wait. Like, an angel?” Ella exclaims excitedly, starting to stand and follow them.
Chloe grimaces. “Yes, but maybe now isn’t the best time, Ella?”
Ella deflates. “Oh, right, yeah. Totally. I’ll just...wait here...”
Lucifer scoffs when they’re out of earshot. “Amenadiel isn’t even the most interesting angel,” he grumbles irritably. “She already bloody knows him, anyway.”
“Let me guess, you're the most interesting angel?” Chloe teases. Her mood has greatly improved knowing Daniel is going to be okay.
“Of course, Detective,” he huffs. “Who else would it be?”
She rolls her eyes.
There’s a smaller waiting room adjacent to the one where they just were, the door ajar, and inside Dad is staring at one of those bulk, generic paintings hospitals and hotels seem to get from the same wholesaler like it’s the most fascinating piece of art on Earth. This one of a boat crossing the stream carrying an elderly man. Amenadiel is standing nearby, arms crossed, like a bouncer at a nightclub (not Lux; Lucifer would never employ someone like his brother).
“Right, then. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Lucifer says without preamble. The less time spent with his father, the better. “Do You need to lay hands on or is this a ‘snap Your fingers’ sort of situation?”
Dad turns to them with that ridiculous smile as though they have all the time in the world to dawdle. “Hello, Lucifer. Hello, again, Chloe,” He says pleasantly.
Chloe’s eye twitches, and Lucifer wonders if she’s once again considering punching his father in the face. He doesn’t blame her. “Hello, sir,” she says coolly, clearly deciding politeness is the better course of action. “Thank you, for agreeing to do this.”
“Yes,” Lucifer says grudgingly, Anytime he’s forced to feel gratitude towards his father, it leaves an unpleasant feeling in his stomach. “Daniel is a dear friend, it would be a tragedy to lose him.” There isn’t even any sarcasm in that sentence today.
God looks to Amenadiel. “This is one of the humans who slept with your mother, correct?” he asks, as though merely asking about the weather.
Lucifer and Amenadiel make identical faces of disgust. “Bloody hell, Dad, I’d only just started to forget that,” Lucifer exclaims indignantly.
“I had forgotten about it,” Amenadiel mutters grumpily, shuddering. “But to answer Your question, Father, yes, although, I don’t believe he was aware of who Mom actually was.”
“Hmm,” Dad says noncommittally.
The Devil rolls his eyes. “Is this really the time to go all jaded ex on them, Dad?” he asks snidely. “Time is of the essence here.”
Chloe places a hand on the small of his back. Maybe don’t piss Him off before He heals Dan?
He supposes that is a fair point. “Look, You said You would heal Daniel,” he says with as much patience as he can muster—there isn’t a whole lot, unfortunately. “So, perhaps we could discuss the rest, although I’d very much rather we never discussed it again—ever—later?”
“I never said that I would heal your friend.”
Lucifer goes cold. “I beg Your pardon?” He looks from his father to Amenadiel, aghast. “You told me...”
“Father, You did say You could heal him.”
Biting back a groan of frustration at the glaring loophole, Lucifer glares at his brother. “Do you just make it a point to misconstrue every bloody thing He says, brother?” he snaps irritably. “He said that He could, not that He would; that loophole is large enough to fly even your big head through it!”
“It sounded to me as though He was offering! And what do you mean, my big head? Your ego wouldn’t even fit in the Silver City anymore!”
“Now, boys...”
“Ohh... Well done, Amenadiel! Once again, cocking it all up, and now, Daniel may die because of it!”
“I’m not the one who shot him, Luci, don’t blame me for this!”
“Please...”
Chloe’s soft, pleading voice forestalls Lucifer’s next insult aimed at his brother, and he spins to find her not looking at him but his father, hands clasped beneath her chin, eyes bright and shining with tears. Instantly, he deflates.
She takes a step towards the Creator of the universe. “Please, heal Dan,” she says quietly. “My daughter still needs her father. And I don’t want her to go through what I did after losing mine.” Lucifer’s eyes fall closed, the ache in his chest sharpening at the pain in her voice. “She doesn’t deserve that, nobody deserves that. And I know that You don’t involve Yourself in the lives of humans, but just this once, please.”
Lucifer wraps an arm around her, pressing his lips to her temple. She leans into him, but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him. He looks at his father. “She’s right,” he says quietly. “Trixie does not deserve that, Dad. I said I would agree to the terms You laid out this morning, and I will keep my word as I always do...so long as You help Daniel.”
“Humans die, Chloe Decker,” Dad says in a gentle tone. “That is how I designed for their lives to be.”
“I should have died so many times in the last few years,” she says fiercely, “and yet, here I am. By some freak accident of genetics and a divine blessing.” Lucifer can’t entirely hold back his flinch at the reminder of her too-near-death experiences. “Because for whatever reason, Someone decided to put me in the Devil’s path and give me an angelic boost. So, what, that means I’m more important than other humans? No. I’m not. Dan may be flawed, but he is a good man who deserves to see his daughter grow up. Please, don’t take that from either of them.”
God cocks his head again. “You enjoy the life you have, do you not?”
“Of course I do! But that isn’t the point! If the feathers on my wings had healing properties, I’d do it myself, or if Lucifer’s could heal a human without melting their brain, he would. Because we care. Because someone important to us is in danger, and there is nothing we wouldn’t do to save him. Because we love him.” Lucifer scoffs softly at that last one, but doesn’t deny it. Chloe ignores him. “If You want a favor from me—”
“Absolutely not,” Lucifer cuts in instantly, staring at her incredulously. “Chloe, don’t. I will pay whatever the price is, not you.” Please. Do not put yourself in His debt, it is not worth it.
Dan is worth it.
God looks between them as though He’s listening to their prayer conversation, which is something Lucifer hadn’t even considered He might be able to do. And immediately, he feels foolish; of course He could listen in, He’s God. Rolling his eyes, he turns to his father. “I will do as You asked. I shall speak to Mum, convince Her to let You have a corner of Her universe—those are the terms. Otherwise, You can find a celestial marriage counselor to sort out Your own problems.”
“Mom?” Amenadiel asks, clueless and bemused. Nobody acknowledges him.
The Almighty looks between Chloe and Lucifer, as if He’s choosing which of them to side with, and it sends Lucifer’s anxiety through the roof. The thought that Chloe could find herself indebted to his father is terrifying, because He could ask her to do anything—command it, even—and she would have no choice but to do as He’s bid. This could be how Lucifer is returned to Hell, requirement of a warden or not.
“You love your daughter, Chloe Decker.”
It isn’t a question, but she answers it, anyway. “I love both of my children—equally—more than anything. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for them.”
Lucifer has a sudden flashback to when Malcolm kidnapped Trixie, when he followed her out of the precinct to the parking lot to confront her about her shifty behavior after everything they’d recently gone through. “Trixie is all that matters.” That was one of the moments he felt himself falling even further for her; that she didn’t hesitate to go after her child, knowing the likely outcome for herself, amazed him. His experience with parents was that they would rather throw you away than save your life—the chief example of such is currently standing before him.
Trixie and Lucas couldn’t ask for a better mother. And Lucifer is nothing but proud to be one of the fathers of her two children, and to consider her other child his stepdaughter.
“And you, son?”
“You know the answer,” Lucifer tells his father coldly. “And if You won’t help Daniel, then I will. Just answer me this: Will healing him with one of my feathers do more harm than good?” As badly as he wants to help his friend, he won’t do so at the risk of his mind.
“I never said I would not help you, son.”
Lucifer scoffs. “No, You’re just playing mind games, like always! You know what Amenadiel assumed, and You know why he brought You here. I’ve agreed to talk to Mum. Will You heal Daniel Espinoza or not, Dad? If the answer is no, then we’ve no use for You.”
“I will,” He says mildly. “Although I was under the impression you did not get along with this human.”
“What difference does that make?” Lucifer exclaims loudly.
Chloe’s hand on his back tries to soothe him, but he’s too worked up. Too angry that his father is letting him down yet again. Sure, Lucifer was only under the impression that He was going to assist them for something in return, but it didn’t matter—all that mattered was that Daniel lived.
“This isn’t about me. It’s about the people I love suffering a tragic loss that I know is far too soon. It’s about a young girl who will never be the same again, and perhaps she’ll come out better for it in the end, like her mother, but it will affect her for the rest of her life, and shape every decision she makes. I will not stand idly by and watch her lose her innocence because of this. And I will not let those I love go through an agonizing pain that I can prevent.”
For the briefest of moments, Lucifer thinks he may see genuine pride in his father’s eyes, but it’s gone far too quickly to know for certain. Besides, why would He feel any sort of pride in the son He rejected?
“It is done. Daniel Espinoza will make a full recovery—it will take time, to avoid questions from doctors, but he will suffer no long-term or permanent effects from this incident.”
“That’s it?” Chloe asks, cautious hope in her voice again. She fists her hand in the back of Lucifer’s suit jacket, and he can practically feel her vibrating with excitement. “He’s going to be okay?”
“He will be, yes.”
She leans against Lucifer to remain upright when her knees give out in relief. “Thank you,” she whispers. “On my daughter’s behalf. Thank you.”
Dad lowers his head in acknowledgment of her gratitude, turning to Lucifer. “You will keep your end of our deal?”
“He always keeps his end of a deal,” Chloe says fiercely, before Lucifer can say anything snarky. It’s likely for the best; wouldn’t wish to risk Dad taking it back, after all.
“Then Amenadiel and I will leave you to your friends. Are you not going to say thank you, son?”
Lucifer’s jaw tenses, and he nearly refuses out of spite. “Once I’ve seen for myself that You’ve actually done something worth thanking You for, perhaps I will,” he says mildly.
“I’ve said that I healed your friend, did I not? And like you, I do not lie.”
“No,” Lucifer concedes. “But I still don’t trust You.”
God’s frown is deep. “As is your choice,” he says coolly. “Amenadiel? Shall we?”
Amenadiel is looking between all of them as if he doesn’t know who to side with, though Lucifer knows it will be with their father. “Yes, of course, Father. Luci, you’ll let me know when Dan wakes?”
Lucifer nods tightly, once.
A moment later, it’s only himself and Chloe in the room, and she immediately wraps him in a hug, arms tight around his middle. “Dan’s going to be okay... He’s going to be fine...” she murmurs to herself.
“Yes, he is,” Lucifer confirms softly, and it’s a relief. At the same time, however, he knows his father is displeased that he didn’t fall to his knees in gratitude. And when his father is displeased... Perhaps He will be mollified by Lucifer finding a way to talk to Mum. “We should inform the others, hmm?”
The moment they step out of the adjunct room, Ella is there with a huge smile on her face. “The doctor just came by, I was coming to get you guys... Dan’s going to be okay!”
Leaving Chloe to celebrate with Miss Lopez, Lucifer wanders off to a different part of the hospital. He should be celebrating, because it’s a wonderful thing that has happened—and he will—but for the moment...he doesn’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. Maybe it’s that his father was toying with them in order to finally do what He initially said He would do. Or that He refused to answer Lucifer’s question about whether Lucifer himself could have healed Daniel. Or maybe it’s simply that his father’s assistance was necessary at all. All he knows is that the sooner his father is off of Earth, the better for all involved.
Then a bone-chilling thought occurs to him: Lucifer said himself that he doesn’t believe it was Daniel’s time, and yet he was fighting for his life. What if God arranged Daniel’s shooting so that Lucifer would ask for assistance to give him incentive to agree to help in his parents’ marriage troubles? And if that is the case...what if He had gone after someone who is far closer to Lucifer—Chloe, Trixie...Lucas?
His phone is at his ear before he even notices himself dialing the number.
“Hi, Mr. Morningstar!” Amelia chirps brightly.
Lucifer relaxes just a tad; if she sounds this genuinely carefree, then Lucas is fine. Probably. “Amelia, terribly sorry to interrupt if you’re busy, but are you currently with Lucas?”
“I just put him down for a nap after lunch.”
“Would you be a dear and go check on him for me?”
She chuckles. “New dad jitters, huh? No problem, hang on.”
Lucifer quickly switches to the NannyCam app on his phone, puts the call on speaker, and watches his son asleep in his crib. Lucas is in a supine position, arms raised over his head and hands curled into fists. His right leg is bent at an angle. A few seconds later, Amelia can be seen entering the room and creeping towards the crib. She places a hand flat on his belly, and Lucifer watches it move up and down, Lucas’s tiny snores reaching his ears even over the phone and camera.
“Yep, he’s still sleeping,” Amelia whispers as she sneaks back out of the room. She returns to a normal volume. “All good here.”
“Right, yes, I thought so. Just wanted to be sure, you know how it is.”
“Yeah, of course, don’t worry about it.”
“Well, it looks as though we won’t have to keep you too late this evening,” Lucifer tells her, settling into a nearby chair. “Our friend is going to be fine.”
“Oh, I’m really glad to hear that! But take your time, I don’t have any plans tonight, anyway, and Lucas is a great baby.”
Lucifer smiles at that. “That, he is,” he agrees softly. “I’ll update you when we know more. If anything changes with Lucas...”
“I’ll call first thing,” Amelia says promptly.
Wrapping up the call, Lucifer continues to watch the camera feed in his son’s room, if for no other reason than it brings him comfort—and after this morning, Lucifer could use some comforting.
Everything okay? Where’d you go? Chloe’s voice in his head, however, brings him the most comfort of anything.
Apologies, love. Just wanted to call and check up on Lucas and Amelia. He’s sleeping like an adorable baby angel, in case you were wondering.
He can sense her confusion, even over prayer. I’m always glad to hear that. We were about to order some lunch while we wait for Dan to get arranged in his room, then we can go see him. Are you hungry?
He isn’t particularly, but he supposes he should eat something. When am I not? What are we in the mood for? I’ll have the best delivered...
It’s nearly two hours before a nurse comes to gather Lucifer and the others so that they can go see Daniel. He’s still unconscious from surgery—and likely his divine healing. Though now that Lucifer thinks about it, Chloe wasn’t unconscious from her healing at all. There was that brief moment when he thought his feather hadn’t worked, when she stopped breathing, and while it felt like an eternity, it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before she gasped back into consciousness and her new state of being. Then again, as far as Lucifer knows, Dan Espinoza isn’t a Miracle put in the Devil’s path and destined to become an angel.
Chloe spoke with her mother, who will bring Trixie here to the hospital after school. Even if Daniel isn’t awake yet, the girl won’t relax until she’s seen with her own two eyes that her father is okay and recovering.
After finding out that Daniel made it through his surgery, Miss Lopez had to return to work, but made sure to get a promise from the others to keep her updated. So it’s only Chloe, Lucifer, and Charlotte gathering in Daniel’s private room. (Lucifer may have written a check to both pay Daniel’s hospital bills and to ensure he had the best room available in the hospital.)
Daniel is dwarfed by the hospital bed, the tubes and machines, and his injuries, but is breathing on his own as he sleeps it all off. Chloe takes one side of the bed, Charlotte, the other, and Lucifer stands beside his partner—all in silent vigil for their friend. Every so often, Daniel makes a sound that makes them think he’s waking, yet he doesn’t open his eyes.
When Chloe gets the message from her mother that she and Trixie are here, Lucifer offers to go meet them and bring them back upstairs. The Urchin rushes towards him the moment she sees him, wrapping him in a hug.
“Is my dad really okay?” she demands in lieu of a greeting, not that Lucifer can blame her.
“He will be,” Lucifer promises, hugging her back. If ever there is a time for Lucifer to get over his reticence with hugging, it’s now; although, he has gotten better about casual touches since being with Chloe, and doesn’t flinch at all when she hugs him, and hardly at all when others in his little Earth-found family do. “He’s resting comfortably, and sleeping off the sedative from surgery.”
Trixie doesn’t seem at all surprised about the surgery, which had been a slip-up on the Devil’s part, and likely means Penelope told the girl everything Chloe told her. Though Lucifer supposes that Chloe knows by now that is a possibility, and wouldn’t have told her mother anything she didn’t want immediately repeated to her daughter.
“Can I go see him?”
“Of course, Urchin, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
To Lucifer’s slight relief, Penelope begs out of going up to see Dan as well, citing the need to rehearse for a role, and says goodbye there. The last thing Chloe needs right now is her condescending mother critiquing and criticizing her for any number of things from her wardrobe to her life choices. He hasn’t forgotten holding his pregnant fiancée in his arms as she cried on Thanksgiving; since then, he’s changed his perception of Penelope Decker and no longer fawns all over her. Nobody hurts his Detective; were Penelope anybody else but his future mother-in-law, her punishment would be slow and painful.
“Did Daddy get shot?” Trixie asks on their walk upstairs. She latched onto Lucifer’s hand, and for once, he doesn’t try to shake her off, assuming she is in need of comfort. He does, however, wonder how it’s always possible for the child to be so bloody sticky. It’s a shame he left his pocket hand sanitizer at home today.
“He did,” Lucifer says carefully, hoping Chloe won’t be upset with him. “But as I said, he’s going to be perfectly fine. You have my word, Urchin.”
“And you always keep your word.”
“That, I do.”
That seems to do wonders for Trixie’s anxiety, but she doesn’t relax until they reach Daniel’s room and she can hug her mother. Much as she desires it, though, Chloe doesn’t let her get into the bed with her father, suggesting they wait until Dan is awake so they don’t mess with the medical readings and tubes, and things.
“Charlotte? I assume you’ll be staying with Daniel tonight, is there anything you need from home? I could send one of my staff to retrieve some things for you, if you like?” Lucifer offers from the couch where he and Chloe are sitting together. Trixie and Charlotte took the chairs by the bed. Charlotte declines, saying that she has somebody bringing her things later.
“Can I stay, too?” Trixie immediately asks.
Chloe hesitates. “Not tonight, Monkey. I need to get back home to Lucas. And you have school tomorrow.”
Trixie pouts. “I have to go to school? But Daddy is in the hospital,” she argues.
“I know, baby, but he’s going to be fine. Besides, I don’t know if they’ll allow minors to stay in the hospital overnight,” Chloe says reasonably.
“That’s stupid,” the girl grumbles, turning back to her father.
Although Lucifer is absolutely certain he could have an exception made for the Urchin to remain here overnight, he knows better than to say so out loud which would undermine Chloe’s authority—something that has gotten him into trouble before. Besides, Chloe likely has her reasons, apart from the child’s schooling.
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he sighs; he has a feeling he knows who it is, and sure enough...
He glances over to find Chloe was watching him text with his brother—which he doesn’t mind; he has nothing to hide from her. “Yes?”
How are you going to go see your mom?
Haven’t the faintest. But I always manage something.
Amenadiel said something about Gabriel and somebody else?
Jeremiel, the Angel of Dreams. Usually some message of Dad’s He wants a specific human to know. I don’t know that it would work on one of the Divine Beings of the universe, though.
Do you get along? Or...did you, I guess?
Lucifer smiles. We did. He was actually one of the few of my siblings interested in also having free will. There weren’t many of us, but as I was the ‘mastermind’ behind it all, I was the only one sent to speak with Dad. Not that it did me a lick of good in the end; all my siblings turned on me. I’ve no idea what Jeremiel thinks of me these days, though I suspect it’s no different than animosity and disdain the others have for me.
Chloe presses a kiss to his shoulder. I’m sorry.
It isn’t your fault, love. You needn’t apologize when you’ve done nothing wrong.
And Gabriel?
Lucifer takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Gabriel is the Angel of Messages, though we always called her the Angel of Gossip; never tell her anything you don’t wish for the entire Host to know about. She would be the best form of communication with Mum, as she can deliver messages literally anywhere, including parallel worlds, other universes—anywhere.
Parallel worlds...? Chloe raises an eyebrow, thinks about it for a moment, then shakes her head. Never mind, I’m probably better off not knowing. Why don’t you try getting in touch with her, then, and telling her it’s for your dad?
I only hesitate to contact her because she and Michael have always been rather close. And if that hasn’t changed since I was in the Silver City...well.
The expression of pure disgust and annoyance she makes makes Lucifer smile. Yeah, best not, then...
He hesitates. I do have a vague idea of how to manage it, but I’ll need to go someplace there is plenty of space to work. And you can’t come with me, Detective. There, or to Mum’s universe.
She sits up suddenly, getting Trixie's and Charlotte's attention. Throwing them a reassuring smile, she waits until they’ve turned back to Dan, then rounds on Lucifer, looking furious. Excuse me? And what exactly makes you think I’d let you face your homicidal mother on your own when I wouldn’t let you face your manipulative father?
He sighs. Chloe, this is different. I don’t know how long I’ll be away, or how time works in Her universe; I know nothing. Lucas can’t be left without both of his parents for an indefinite length of time. Besides, She’s only homicidal when it comes to my father and humans. She’ll be much more cooperative if it’s only me there.
So, you just expect me to let you run off to an unknown universe for an unknown period of time...and, what? Not spend every second you’re gone worrying that you’re dead or that you ended up somewhere else and can’t get back home?
Lucifer runs a hand down his face, suddenly feeling every single one of his 13.8 billion years. Chloe. You know that I will always find a way back to you. But I made a deal—with my father. I can’t simply back out of it.
And I’m not asking you to.
What are you asking me to do, then? Should we pack a diaper bag and a papoose, and bring our two-month-old son on a trip to meet his Grandmum—oh, actually...
For a moment, he allows himself to imagine his mother’s horror when she finds out that she is a grandmother, twice over. Once the horror faded...well. It could go either way with Her, really—amazement and wonder, or accusing Lucas of being a manipulation from God.
Chloe gives him a look. No, of course not. I just don’t like the idea of you going off to war and me staying behind and being the dutiful little wife.
You are nothing of the sort. Yet. You won’t officially be my wife for four months, but that is beside the point, he adds quickly at her glare. I think we can both, at least, agree that it’s best for somebody to remain on Earth with Lucas, yes?
Grudgingly, Chloe nods.
Believe me, Detective, I do not wish to be parted from you, either. Certainly not for any extended length of time. And I will not linger; I’ll have my chat with Mum, try to convince Her to allow Dad to come stay, then come right back to your arms—which just so happens to be the only place I truly desire to be. I don’t anticipate it being a long chat; either She will laugh me out of Her universe, or I’ll have to convince Her, which may take a bit longer, but I’ve been told I could persuade the knickers off a nun.
Although she fights it hard, Chloe smiles, just a little. Yes, you could. And I believe I said charm. But you’re also very persuasive.
Hmm. I persuaded you to love me, after all.
She shakes her head, leaning in to kiss him briefly, aware they aren’t alone in the room. Not that Lucifer would mind. Nope. That was all you being you, no persuasion required.
Right. Yes. You did admit to wanting me from the very beginning...
Chloe rolls her eyes. “Stop ruining it,” she murmurs, bumping into his shoulder. He chuckles. Then she studies him, searching his eyes for something only she knows what. Finally, she sighs, nodding. Okay. But if you don’t come back to me, Lucifer Morningstar. I’m so going to kill you.
He bites back a laugh, restricting it to prayer. Well, I wouldn’t want you to become a murderer on my behalf, darling, so I suppose I must heed your threat.
Damn right.
Daniel wakes not long after. He is confused and disoriented, but otherwise, in good spirits. There seems to be a superfluous amount of relief and gratitude in his eyes as he looks between Trixie and Charlotte that makes Lucifer wonder whether, when the doctors lost him those two times during the operation, he made a trip down Below, after all. For damned souls, the Hell time flux seems fairly set in ten seconds on Earth equates to ten years in Hell; Dan could have gone through his Hell loop thousands of times in that timeframe. But Lucifer knows better than to ask about it now, especially with Trixie in the room.
When visiting hours come to an end, the Urchin is extra resistant to leave, until Chloe promises to bring her back here tomorrow after school, and Daniel assures her they can text tonight before she goes to bed. Trixie drags her feet, so Chloe gives her a few more minutes with her father while Charlotte goes to get coffee and to meet whomever is bringing her overnight bag. Chloe and Lucifer step outside of the room.
“I’ll just go bring round the car, shall I?” he offers. At Chloe’s nod, he starts off down the hall, but she pulls him to an abrupt halt by the hand. “Detective? What’s wrong?”
Rather than answering, Chloe reaches for his lapels and tugs him down for a long, slow kiss that nearly makes him forget what he was doing before this—and to desire doing nothing but this for eternity. When she slowly brings the kiss to a close, he instinctively tries to chase her lips, needing more of her, but she denies him with a smile and shake of her head.
“Thank you, Lucifer.”
He blinks, trying to remember what she may be thanking him for. Or what they were doing before she kissed him. “What for?” he asks, clueless. He doesn’t think it was only the kiss that is making him so momentarily dumbstruck, but he could be wrong.
“For saving Dan.”
It feels as if a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over his head, dousing his desire and brief idiocy. “But...I didn’t do anything, darling. Literally. I didn’t even ask my father to help us,” he says, bemused. Why is she thanking him for what his father did?
“Maybe you didn’t ask or do the actual healing, but you did agree to a deal with your father, who you loathe,” she says softly. “And I know that cost you a lot in pride and dignity.”
Lucifer scoffs, reaching for his cufflinks. “It isn’t as though I had much choice in the matter.”
“You had all the choices, Lucifer,” she argues. “You could have told Him no, and not even mentioned to me that He offered. When He started jerking us around, you could have called the entire thing off. You could have demanded different terms.”
He shakes his head. “No. I couldn’t have.”
“Why not?” she counters.
He thinks she knows why, but she is clearly trying to make a point. “Because...it would have broken your heart. Despite your issues with your ex-Douche, he is your friend and the father of your firstborn. I know he means a great deal to you. And as I told my father, it would have ruined Trixie—perhaps not permanently; after all, she is your daughter, and therefore, she is unbelievably strong, however devious and ungrateful she may be otherwise. But it would have changed the course of her future. I don’t wish for either of you to ever suffer through anything, especially if it is within my abilities to protect you from it and make it right. And this was the only way I could correct this particular wrong. To me, it was worth it, if only to see the two of you smile again.”
Chloe places her hands low on his waist, pressing herself against him. “That is why I’m thanking you,” she tells him softly. “Because you swallowed your pride and did something that just this morning you positively, flat out refused to do—just to see us smile. You’re a good man, Lucifer, the best. Don’t you ever forget it.”
Unable to think of a response to that, Lucifer kisses her, cupping her precious face in his hands. “And I’d do it again,” he murmurs against her lips. “And again.” He presses his lips to hers again briefly. “Don’t you know that, Detective?”
Arriving home is only delayed by the stop to pick up pizza and ice cream at the Urchin’s request. There have been few times when he was so relieved to walk into this penthouse as he is now, and he doesn’t even waste time going to the bar before heading over to his infant son.
“Hello, my little darling,” he absolutely does not coo. “Did you miss us? Because we certainly missed you.”
Lucas is all smiles as Lucifer picks him up gently, cradling him in his arms. After the day they’ve had, his heart warms and grows being back where he belongs. His son’s smile could melt even the coldest of hearts; Lucifer never had a chance, not after Chloe Decker brought his own back to life after eons of hardening and freezing it.
Faintly, he can hear Chloe conversing with Amelia, then the nanny leaves, calling that she’ll see them again tomorrow, then Chloe instructing Trixie to put her things away and they can eat at the coffee table. Then she’s joining him and Lucas.
“Hi, sweet boy. Oh, Mommy missed you so much.” Chloe definitely coos. She carefully takes Lucas from the Devil, who pouts but magnanimously allows it, and hugs him close. “Did you have fun with Miss Amelia?” Though it’s likely a coincidence, Lucas makes some sort of affirmative sound that makes Chloe smile. Lucas reaches up to play with her bullet necklace, tugging on the chain. “Oh, no, baby, don’t break that; that’s from your daddy.”
Lucifer waves it off. “I made sure to get the strongest chain Alonso had available when he crafted the bullet pendant, just in case some reprobate grabbed it while you had it on.”
Chloe throws him a wink. “So, instead, you gave them something to strangle me with? Thanks, babe!” she teases. And...oh. He hadn’t thought of that. Lucifer studies the chain, wondering if there’s a way to keep the integrity of it, but to make it break away if pulled hard enough to do her real damage. Chloe laughs. “Lucifer, I was kidding. I tuck it under my shirt at work. Besides...invulnerable and immortal, remember?”
It’s a good point. Lucifer forgets all about necklace chains when Lucas turns back to him reaching and whining. “Oh, you want your daddy, is that it, Gremlin?” Chloe tries to look disgruntled, but she’s smiling as she passes their son back to him. This feeling is indescribable, not just having a family, but that the family often makes him feel so invincible. And the fact that his two-month-old wants to be in his arms, after all of Lucifer’s fears that he would be an awful, terrible father, that his child would despise him...well. The stinging in his eyes certainly isn’t caused by allergies or dust... “I love you, Lucas.”
“He loves you, too,” Chloe says, tears in her own eyes at the sight of them. She rubs Lucifer’s shoulder. “And so do I. So much. Now, come eat, I’m starving.”
Cradling Lucas to his shoulder, supporting his head, Lucifer joins his girls at the coffee table as Trixie runs back out. She leans over to kiss her brother’s head in greeting then plops down onto the floor, reaching for the nearest pizza box.
“Can we watch the Goosebumps movie while we eat?” Trixie asks.
Chloe shrugs. “If you want, but once dinner is done, you need to get your homework finished.”
Trixie agrees and reaches for the remote.
Sitting back on the couch, his son cradled in his arms, his fiancée and stepdaughter surrounding him, Lucifer knows there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep them smiling and laughing. To keep them happy and safe. Even if that means making deals with his father and visiting other universes to speak with his mother.
Later that night, once his family has gone to sleep, Lucifer presses a soft kiss to Chloe’s cheek and carefully disentangles himself from her, slipping out of bed. He grabs his silk robe and throws it around his shoulders. On his way out of the bedroom, he stops at Lucas’s bassinet, smiling softly at his son. He reaches in to brush his fingers over the mop of curls on his tiny head, then heads for the bar.
After pouring himself three fingers of Macallan’s finest, he makes his way towards Trixie’s room where he has to stifle a chuckle. The girl is as starfished across the large bed as she can be, arms and legs in unnatural angles. The sheet is only covering her lower half while the heavier blanket has mostly fallen to the floor, except where it’s tangled around one of her legs.
Fortunately, the little Urchin is a sound sleeper when there isn’t a wailing infant keeping her awake, so he very carefully rearranges her, head on her pillows, and tucks the sheet and blanket around her shoulders again. Leaning down over her, he presses a kiss to her temple and turns to leave the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
His final destination is the balcony. Much as he would prefer to do this elsewhere, he doesn’t want to leave his family in the middle of the night without a word—Chloe would murder him. It occurred to him this evening as he watched his fiancée nurse their son that it’s been over a year since his Lightbringer powers have returned, and aside from smiting an immortal, melting the mind of a fanatic priest (both of whom deserved exactly what they got, and then some), and some other special effects, he doesn’t know what he can do with those powers.
He could ask his father, he supposes, if he wants fifteen minutes of deflection and prevarication, and more mysterious ways bullshit. But he’d rather find out on his own, and there is one thing he truly desires to know. One thing he did with his powers that he was incredibly proud of, and remains so to this day, and it would be a delight to know he could do it again, if he so wished. Technically, he had a tool to assist him in this particular venture before, but as that isn’t an option, he wants to see if he can do it without the Flaming Sword.
Taking a sip of his drink then setting it aside, Lucifer stands at the edge of the balcony railing and cups his hands in front of him. Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, he turns his focus inward where his Light originates. Back then, he would imagine things in the Silver City that made him happy—a few select siblings, singing, planning pranks then seeing Amenadiel’s hilariously angry, stick-up-the-arse reaction; flying.
Now, he thinks of what makes him happy and it’s infinitely more satisfying and meaningful. Chloe, when she smiles at him, when she kisses him and tells him she loves him. Trixie’s mischievous expression, and her proud one during piano lessons when she gets a progression of notes correct and it sounds like actual music. Lucas, with his charmingly adorable smile and big blue eyes that are all his mother’s; how he stares up at Lucifer with trust and love (Lucifer imagines it’s love, at least) as he listens to his father sing or tell him a story.
His family, who have given his life an entirely different meaning in the last year. Who love him and accept him for all of his flaws and strengths. Who don’t see the angel or the Devil, or the King of Desire—they only see him. The people for whom he would do anything, including laying down his life, without a second thought. Just as they would do for him—though, hopefully, they’ll never be required to. Who have shown him he is worthy and not a monster, and have given him the chance at untold happiness.
Lucifer feels a tear slip down his cheek as images of them play through his mind, from the moment he met Chloe, to his day out with Trixie before Lucas was born, to holding his son for the first time. Every feeling and every hope that he holds for them flood to the surface, along with a warmth he associates with them—happiness, home, safety, family.
Slowly, he opens his eyes and tilts his eyes down to look, then laughs in amazement. There, in his cupped hands, is a small star the size of the large marble and (unsurprisingly) the color of Chloe’s and Lucas’s eyes—the color of his favorite, extinct star that he’s never been able to duplicate until now. He also sees some brown swirls that look suspiciously close to the Urchin’s eye color.
“Bloody hell...” he exhales, lifting his hands to better examine it. “I did it...” He laughs again.
The tiny star glows brightly, and probably has enough power within it to sustain the entirety of Los Angeles County for a year. The proportions are a bit wonky, as Miss Lopez would say, and not perfectly round, a bit rough around the edges, even. But like the Christmas tree Chloe and Trixie chose to place in the penthouse a few months back, it’s perfect in its imperfections. And this one was made with his family in mind.
Part of him wants to run off and show Chloe immediately, like an overexcited little boy, but he allows her to sleep on. He can show her later. Because he knows what to do with this little star. Turning to the skies, he scans, knowing the position of every single one of his stars, even when he can’t see them, and...there, that would be perfect.
Lifting one hand and flattening his palm, he uses his free hand to flick the star into place above Los Angeles—well above Los Angeles, hundreds of light-years away. He watches it streak upwards through the sky, to join its brethren, and smiles when he senses it found its new home.
If he can do that, there is very little in the universe he can’t achieve. And with that satisfaction, he goes back to bed where he wraps himself around Chloe. She lets out a little contented hum in her sleep. The Lightbringer falls asleep with a smile on his lips and hope in his heart.
In the sky, the newest star created and named by Lucifer Morningstar, Mozolprt (meaning Joy of the Light in the language of angels), shines brighter than all the rest. And will go on to flummox astronomers for generations.
Notes:
The scene with Lucifer and the star was loosely inspired by Thy Will Be Done by Incarnadine91 and borrowed with permission. If you haven't read that fic, you're missing out. Seriously.
Chapter 22: Mum
Chapter Text
“Hang on, you did what?”
Chloe has been awake for all of thirty seconds when Lucifer excitedly tells her what he got up to last night, and she isn’t sure if it’s the sleep fog confusing her or just the incomprehensible notion that Lucifer created a new star from their balcony. She knows he created all the original stars in the sky, including the sun. He told her about his favorite star on their very first date, but he also told her he lost those powers when he went to Hell. And it was all so long ago that her brain just...can’t quite process it.
“I created a new star,” he repeats, beaming proudly. There is absolutely no arrogance in his expression, just straight pride and euphoria in his achievement. “I didn’t think it was possible anymore, even with my powers returned, but...” He shakes his head in wonder. “Oh, Chloe, you should have seen it; I very nearly woke you to show it to you.”
His excitement and joy are infectious, and her heart swells with love and pride. “Lucifer, that is...amazing! I’m so proud of you—that you tried, and that you succeeded.”
“Well, you were the inspiration behind it, Detective,” he informs her, his eyes shining with love of his own. “You, and Lucas, and the Urchin.”
“We were?”
He nods, tucking some hair behind her ear and tracing along her jaw. “When I was creating stars originally, I put...all of myself into them. My thoughts, my emotions... And last night, I thought about you—how happy you make me feel, how loved and accepted. Then, suddenly, there’s a tiny star in my hands, the color of your and Lucas’s eyes, and a bit of the Urchin’s. It isn’t perfect, but I felt it...encapsulated our family quite well.” He gives her that soft smile, and in response, she tackles him to the bed and kisses him—it’s the language in which he is most fluent, though he has gotten better at expressing his feelings, at least with her. He laughs happily.
When she pulls away to look at him, her hand cradling and caressing his face, he looks dazed and pleased. “I love you,” she whispers fiercely. “My Lightbringer.”
The smile he gives her is shy. “My Detective,” he responds, cupping his hand behind her head to bring her close for another kiss—
Lucas makes his presence known, breaking their bubble and reminding them of their responsibilities.
Lucifer turns his head and narrows his eyes at his son’s bassinet. “We were having a moment,” he says tartly.
Chloe snorts a laugh, pecking his chin with her lips then rolling off of him and ignoring his whining pout. “Yeah, newborns don’t care about moments, babe.”
He huffs. “You’d think a son of mine would have more appreciation of the finer things in life,” he states primly, climbing out of bed and reaching for his robe. “It would seem he inherited more of your side than we thought, darling.”
She scoffs, affronted. “Excuse me, I enjoy our moments, too, thanks.”
“Well, yes, of course you do, darling, all of your best moments have been with me.” There’s that arrogance...
Rolling her eyes, Chloe makes her way to the nursery to change Lucas’s diaper. “Keep telling yourself that, Satan.” Though, really, he’s not wrong.
Over breakfast, Lucifer informs Chloe that he intends to attempt to travel to his mother’s universe—today. She wants to argue that they’re in the middle of a case, that there’s too much going on and she needs his help, but she immediately realizes that she just...she doesn’t want him to go. They don’t know how long he’ll be gone, or what will happen when he gets there, or if he’ll be able to get back. And that terrifies her. It’s different from when he went to Hell—that is somewhere he’s been before, for billions of years, and he has full control of the realm. The only unknown in that situation was how the demons would react. This, though...
“What if something happens to you?” she worries. “What if you can’t get back here? I’ll be stuck here, not knowing and pulling out my hair, for who knows how long.”
“Well, I don’t recommend pulling out your hair, Detective. I rather like it, myself,” he says with a grin.
She glares at him. “I’m serious, Lucifer.”
He sighs. “Look, I understand your concerns, darling, I do. I am taking them seriously, because I do wish to come back to you—and I will. I can’t give you any guarantees but that one, Chloe. I wish I could.” He wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her in close. Her arms snake around his waist in a vise grip. “What I can guarantee is that I shall be as careful as I can possibly be, that I will be vigilant. Chloe, if I can get there, I can return.”
“Can you pray while you’re there?”
He hesitates. “That, I don’t know. It could be that prayer only works in-universe, and once I’m in Mum’s, I’m cut off. But I will try, and I will keep you updated on my progress if I am able. All right?”
No... “All right,” she agrees softly, tilting her head back. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be clingy and whiny—”
“Have we met?” he asks incredulously. “If either of us is clingy, it’s the Devil, darling. If I could, I’d keep you in my arms for eternity and never let you go.”
She hums against his lips, smiling. “Likewise.” She sighs. “Okay. So, where are you doing this?”
“I thought I’d pop out to the Mojave—plenty of room, no annoying humans around to see me opening a space vagina to another universe. Or to get hurt, I suppose,” he adds dismissively.
Chloe laughs, which makes him smile, and was probably his intent. “Just be careful. I want you back here in one piece, Morningstar.” It’s the same demand she made before he left for Hell. “We have a wedding to finish planning.”
He makes a happy noise in the back of his throat. “That we do, my love. And I, for one, can’t bloody wait to be your husband.”
“Me neither,” she murmurs. They hear the faint ding of the elevator. “That’s probably Amelia. Then I need to get Trix out the door and to school. Pray to me before you leave? Don’t just open this portal and disappear, okay?”
“I promise.” He kisses her again. “No more vanishing Devil.”
Reluctantly, they part, and Chloe heads out to greet Lucas’s nanny and start her day. A low churning worry settles into her stomach that she imagines will only grow until he returns.
Despite his confidence in Chloe’s presence, in the hopes of calming her nerves, Lucifer has no idea what to expect from this little universe hop. He doesn’t even know if Mum was able to create anything, though he sincerely hopes She has, and that it’s thriving. But what worries him the most is that he will get to Mum’s and find out that his powers don’t work the same—and he’ll be trapped.
Lucifer says a long farewell to Chloe in the parking garage, mouths fused and their arms wound tightly around one another; Trixie breaks the moment this time by honking the horn because they’re taking so long. Lucifer watches them depart until he can no longer see them, then texts his brother and flies to Dr. Linda’s house, meeting him in the backyard to avoid running into his father. One insufferable parent is enough for one day, thanks.
“Luci,” Amenadiel greets as the Devil lands on the grass. “Why didn’t you just come into the house, like a normal person?”
“Because I am extraordinary, brother, not normal. Normal is boring. Which you should know,” he sniffs, adjusting his cufflinks. “Did you retrieve what I asked you for?”
Amenadiel hesitates. “Tell me again why you need this?” He holds up a thin, metallic rod connected to a chain.
“I’m going to Mum’s universe,” Lucifer tells him with a sigh. “I don’t foresee any major misfortunes, but I’m not particularly versed in the mechanics of how other universes work, so I am not entirely confident that my powers will still function for the return trip home.”
“You could always ask Father.”
Lucifer gives him a deadpan look, not deigning to respond. “Anyhow, I would like to borrow your pretty necklace there as a failsafe, if you will; should my powers malfunction, I’ll have access to Azrael’s blade and the healing medallion to put the Flaming Sword together. You’ve my word that I shall return your rod upon my return.”
Amenadiel crosses his arms and gets that annoying holier-than-thou look on his face. Lucifer inwardly groans; he doesn’t have time for one of Amenadiel’s lectures. There is far too much for him to do, and he doesn’t want to spend all bloody day doing it—
“That’s actually...reasonable.”
Lucifer blinks. “I beg your pardon?” he says in surprise.
“You’ve actually thought this through, Luci, that’s impressive.”
“Yes, well, everything about me is impressive, brother. Now, might I borrow your little trinket? I shall take care not to lose it.”
His brother sighs, looking torn. “Are you planning to bring the sword back with you?”
“I...hadn’t planned on it,” Lucifer says cautiously. Having Azrael’s blade on Earth once was bad enough, not to mention the entire sword; that isn’t a headache Lucifer is eager to repeat. “Why?”
“I was thinking,” Amenadiel says quietly, taking a step closer to his brother. “Michael is on the warpath in Heaven. He’s gathering followers and gaining support.”
“Right. We knew this; he wants to become God 2.0 and boot me back to the Basement.”
Amenadiel shakes his head. “It’s more than that, Luci. I think Michael is preparing for battle.”
“Battle?” Lucifer asks, aghast. “Against whom?”
“You. Remiel prayed to me the other night and said Michael approached her about Heaven’s weapons stores—he wanted an inventory of everything currently on-hand. Remiel, as Keeper of Weapons, denied him; she doesn’t like anybody knowing exactly what is available.”
Lucifer nods. “I did the same in Hell. Not even Mazikeen knew what weapons I had in the vaults.” He frowns, eyes darting back and forth. “He’s waiting for Dad to leave Earth.”
“I think so. Which is why...I think you should ask Mom for the sword back,” he says heavily.
Lucifer reels back in shock. “What?” His brother couldn’t have surprised him more if he told him he was going to become a ballerina. Amenadiel had been the most vocal about not using the sword, especially against Heaven, and now he wants...what? For Lucifer to use it against his twin? Because Lucifer hasn’t killed enough siblings with that damned blade? “Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m not saying we should use it,” Amenadiel says placatingly. “But if we have it, then Michael doesn’t. I have a daughter here, Luci, and you have a son; we need to protect them.”
That gets Lucifer’s hackles up. “You think Michael would go for the children?” He has half a mind to scrub this entire trip and go play bodyguard to Lucas.
“No, I don’t. But he will come for us,” Amenadiel amends. “I want to see my daughter grow up, and I need to protect that future.”
This is likely the first time Lucifer has ever felt so close to Amenadiel, and utterly on the same page. “You and me both, brother.”
He runs a hand down his face. If he has the blade and Amenadiel keeps his necklace safe, the Sword can’t be lit. Nobody has to use it, though Lucifer knows that if it ever comes down to it, he will protect his family. The last thing he wants is to wipe another of his siblings from existence, what happened with Uriel was bad enough, and he doesn’t think he could go through that again. But if that is what it takes to ensure he and Chloe get to see their children grow up...well.
“I’ll bring it back. On one condition.”
Amenadiel’s eyebrows furrow. “Name it.”
“The blade stays with me. You shall have your necklace back, but you must keep it safe, Amenadiel. The sword cannot fall into the wrong hands, I will not watch another of our siblings die. I won’t,” Lucifer says firmly. “Are we in agreement?”
His brother reaches out, a hand on his shoulder. “We are.” He hands Lucifer the necklace.
The moment it is in his hand, memories of chasing this bloody piece all over Los Angeles come rushing back. Worrying about Mum exploding and destroying half the world, and fear that Chloe was getting too close to all of it. That phone call from his mother, when Chloe tracked Her down at the Pier... He doesn’t know what he would have done if Amenadiel hadn’t managed to slow time at the moment that idiot fired the gun; there had been too many wildcard variables that day, and it was too close. And they nearly lost Linda. Lucifer never would have forgiven himself if she hadn’t made it. Or if something had happened to Chloe.
Clearing his throat, he puts the necklace over his own head, tucking the key beneath his shirt. “Where’s Dad, anyway?” Lucifer would have expected their father to interrupt by now.
“He went for a walk to the donut shop.”
Lucifer blinks. “God went to the donut shop?”
Amenadiel nods. “He likes the ones with all the special toppings.”
Rolling his eyes, Lucifer decides not to ask. “And what did Dad say when you informed Him Michael is prepping for war?” Though since Amenadiel is asking Lucifer to bring back Azrael’s blade, he suspects God was no help there either.
Amenadiel sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “He said ‘all will work out as it should’ and then asked if I knew what a Slurpee is,” he says flatly.
Lucifer scoffs. “Of course he bloody did. Why would He bother to assist in protecting the universe He's about to jump ship from?” Bloody useless. “Right. Thank you for your assistance, brother, it is appreciated.”
“Have you worked out how you’re going to convince Mom to let Father come to Her universe?”
“I have a plan,” Lucifer hedges. It isn’t necessarily a good plan, but it’s a plan.
Amenadiel lifts a skeptical eyebrow, but doesn’t press for answers. “I should get back inside. Emily will be waking from her nap soon. Good luck, brother. Safe travels.”
Lucifer takes a deep breath and unfurls his wings. “Yes, I imagine I will need all the luck I can get...”
The spot he chose in the desert is miles from the main road and the nearest town. Lucifer doesn’t anticipate anything going wrong here, but he would rather not fry some random passersby with a blast of pure divinity. He doesn’t even know if this will work, but if he can manage to get to Mum’s universe without having to involve other siblings...well. That’s just better for everybody involved.
“Right, then...” he mutters, brow furrowed. “Here goes something.”
Closing his eyes, he turns his focus inward to his Light, as he did last night when he created his new star. Instead, this time, he thinks about his mother. Those early years, back in the Silver City, when humans and Earth weren’t even yet a concept. While Goddess has always been temperamental, She was generally quite lovely. Happy, even. When She sang, it brought tears to Lucifer’s eyes every time, and when She groomed his wings, She would tell stories—Mum had a surprisingly creative imagination.
Lucifer’s favorites had been about another universe, similar to their own, but still quite different. Tree leaves were vermilion; the sky was the color of emeralds; grass was scarlet. She would tell tales about another God and Goddess, and the adventures their children experienced. All the different creatures they would encounter. The protagonist of the story always changed depending on which angel Goddess was telling it to—and the character’s description always resembled that angel. Samael’s character was named Lucifito, and he was clever and mischievous, and the brightest of his siblings. Much like his real life counterpart. In part, that's where his nickname of ‘Lucifer’ originated. Dad changed it after the stars were in the sky.
The stories came to an abrupt end when Dad began tinkering with Earth; Mum was too wrapped up in Her anger and frustration with Her husband to have time for Her children. But Lucifer never forgot them, and often replayed them in his mind in Hell when he was at his loneliest.
One thing he can say for his mother is, She loves Her children—in Her own way. She never really knew how to express it properly, but Lucifer felt it when She told those stories and when She would sing. He felt it on the beach, right before he sent Her away. It doesn’t make any of what She did on Earth any more acceptable, but Lucifer does believe those actions stemmed from the desire to see Her children again. Out of what amounted to love from his mother.
He focuses on those early memories, bringing them together and mentally rolling them into a concentrated ball, then pushes the ball outwards wrapped up with his Light. This isn’t something he’s ever done, and for all he knows, this could have devastating consequences—but still, he has to try.
There’s a shiver of power around him and suddenly, he feels a frigid wave against his face. Opening his eyes, he stares for a moment, then laughs in amazement. Just a few feet in front of him is a tear in the fabric of the universe, a crack about as tall as he is right in the middle of the Mojave desert, and just wide enough that he can squeeze through.
“Bloody hell...” he breathes. Through the crack, there is light from what looks to be stars. “She did it...” It would seem his mother was successful in creating Her own universe. And suddenly, he’s back to being young Samael, eager to explore and discover new things.
Before he steps through, though, there’s one thing he must do.
Hello, Detective. I am currently standing in the Mojave Desert, about to step through into Mum’s universe.
Chloe’s response is almost instantaneous. You did it? I don’t know whether to be proud or terrified of the thought that you opened a portal to another universe.
Lucifer laughs. Well, in this case, I intend to close it up behind me to prevent any mishaps, but I can understand the wariness. I just wanted to say that I love you, Chloe. And I’ll be home as soon as I can manage it.
He can feel Chloe’s apprehension and her fingers in his hair, then caressing his cheek. I love you, too, Lucifer. Be safe. Be careful. Try not to cause too much trouble.
Where’s the fun in that, Detective? But yes, I will do both. Kiss our son for me when you get home. And my step-Urchin, of course. I love all three of you, and I’ll see you soon.
We’ll miss you. I already miss you and you’re not even gone yet...
And I, you, Chloe. With any luck this will be a quick hop—once I’ve convinced Mum, that is.
Get going, Satan. The sooner you go, the sooner you’re back. And if you’re really lucky, I might have a surprise for you when you get home.
Lucifer grins predatorily. A sexy surprise?
You'll just have to hurry back and see for yourself, won’t you?
Minx. You be safe, as well, darling. And take care of our spawn. See you soon. I love you.
I love you, too. See you soon, Lucifer. Then he can feel a whisper of her lips brushing against his—it feels so real that he lifts his hand to his mouth, half-expecting to find his Detective here with him.
With their prayer connection closed, for now, Lucifer feels bereft. But he pushes it back, because Chloe, as always, is right: The sooner he gets this over with, the sooner he’s back where he wants to be—with his family. He will try prayer once he’s on the other side, but he doesn’t have high hopes—different universe, different rules of divinity. He doesn’t know much about the multiverse, as it never particularly interested him, but he knows that much. The Endless, for example—their powers are muffled in Hell, which is Lucifer’s realm; and it would be the same for him in theirs. He imagines those rules apply here, as well.
Burying his own apprehension, Lucifer adjusts his lapels, twists his cufflinks, pats his hair to check for flyaway strands, then closes the distance to the portal. Taking a deep breath, he steps through into a new world. Instinctively, his wings unfurl, keeping him from floating through this new outer space, and he stares around in stunned wonder.
The stars here are similar to the ones he created, though the colors are different—rather than the yellows, reds, whites, and blues he is accustomed to, these are pinks, purples, golds, silvers. And they are breathtakingly beautiful. He’s too close to make out constellations, but he has no doubt his mother created a few, at least.
Amidst the stars, he seems to have popped up in the middle of a solar system. There are four planets that he can see, the closest of which reminds him of Earth, only instead of blue water, it’s a green planet. The continents are different shapes, but Goddess was clearly inspired by the universe she helped her ex-Husband create. The other planets he can see in the far distance—one, a blue so dark it’s nearly black; another with two sets of rings revolving with it; and the fourth is purple, which immediately makes him think of Trixie and her purple bedroom. And the one farthest out is a violent shade of green swirled with black.
He has no idea where to start looking for his mother, or if he should just shout until she appears. Does she have Omnis here? If so, she would probably immediately know of his arrival—
“Identify yourself.”
Stiffening at the sound of the deep voice, Lucifer spins around, his primary blades sharpening to a point as though sensing danger. He falters slightly when he sees what looks to be another angel hovering fifteen or so feet from him. A well-built, light-skinned with black hair and striking grey eyes...angel. He has two sets of wings, rather than one—one gold, one silver. And he’s carrying a double-headed spear. Lucifer would guess it’s made of celestial steel, assuming that’s a thing here, but it looks to have a slightly blue tinge to it.
Adopting his usual insouciant mask, Lucifer smirks, one hand finding a cufflink—and scowls when he realizes he’s missing the other. Damn. He quite liked this set. “Ah, hello there. I’m Lucifer Morningstar, and I’m looking for the Goddess of All Creation. Is she home this afternoon, by chance?”
The other angel frowns. “Lucifer Morningstar? We have heard tales of you from Mother. You are the Lightbringer!” Suddenly, his threatening manner changes to one of excitement and awe.
“Hang on... Mother?” Lucifer says incredulously. “Who is your mother, precisely?”
Oh, he really hopes this isn’t another sibling... Has Mum been creating new angels to replace the ones She was forced to leave behind? Well, he supposes it would get a bit lonely all alone in a new universe. At least in Hell, he could pop up to Earth every so often. But this simply begs the question: How did She create new angels? Is there another God here?
That could get a bit awkward if Dad comes to stay...
“Our mother, the Creator,” the new angel says eagerly. He straightens his spine and lifts his free fist across his chest. “I am Ranos, Protector of the Cosmos.”
He certainly didn’t expect to meet half-siblings on this jaunt, and he isn’t particularly in the mood for small talk. “Right... Ranos, is it? If you would be kind enough to point me in Mum’s direction, that would be just dandy. I’m on a bit of a tight schedule, as it were, and—”
“Lucifer?”
A shiver runs through him. He knows that voice... Spinning around again, he finds...Charlotte Richards? Oh, but...no, not quite. There are a few slight differences: Her hair is a few shades darker, Her eyes brighter, and She’s wearing a long, golden gown.
“Mum.” Now that he’s here, standing (well, hovering) before Her...he doesn't know what to say.
Mum-in-Charlotte’s-form stares at him with disbelief, then She laughs, Her eyes gleaming with tears. “Oh, my Lightbringer, I have missed you!” She rushes forward and hugs him. For a moment, he’s too stunned to respond, but finally remembers how to do this, and gingerly hugs Her back. “I never thought I would see you again,” She whispers joyfully.
No, neither did he. “Yes. Long time, no see,” he quips weakly. When they part, Mum is smiling brightly, tears in Her eyes. Lucifer clears his throat, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You’ve been busy, I see.”
Looking around, Mum nods, still smiling. “I have. Once I worked out how to create the stars, it all managed to pull together,” She says proudly. “It would seem I should have paid more attention to how you did it in your universe, but it worked out in the end.”
Lucifer shakes his head in wonder. “It’s magnificent, Mum. Brilliant job. Truly.”
“But why are you here, son? For that matter, how did you even get here?” Mum asks incredulously. “I didn’t think it was possible to connect with the other universe, not once the portal closed.”
Taking a breath and blowing it out slowly, Lucifer’s eyes dart to Ranos, not particularly eager to speak in front of somebody he doesn’t know. “Is there...somewhere a bit quieter we can speak?”
Mum follows his gaze and smiles knowingly. “Of course, son. Ranos, continue your rounds, please.”
“Yes, Mother! It was wonderful meeting you, brother!” Ranos calls to Lucifer as he zooms away.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow at Mum. “You’ve created new angels?”
“I do miss My children in your father’s universe, but it was rather lonesome being the only sentient lifeform in an entire, empty universe,” She explains, lifting an arm to indicate that they're headed for the green planet. “It wasn’t easy, making new children of My own, but if your father could create reptiles to reproduce asexually, then I could manage it Myself. Which is quite a shame; I do miss sex. Particularly the reverse cowgirl.”
Lucifer cringes. “Oh, for the love of... Mum! I’ve been here for five minutes, and I’m already traumatized. It’s a bloody good thing I’m already in therapy...” He shudders in disgust.
She smirks. “You know you get your sexual appetite from me. It certainly wasn’t from your father,” She says disdainfully.
“Mum! Please! I didn’t come here to develop Post-Traumatic Sex Disorder,” he says urgently.
They soar into an atmosphere, and Lucifer inhales, his head instantly going fuzzy. “What on not-Earth is that?”
Mum grabs him when he starts flying off course. There’s a tingling running through his body, and for a moment, he begins to panic, wondering if this is a trick of Hers—an attack.
“It’s all right, son,” She says soothingly. “It’s just the oracle-air.”
Lucifer does a double-take. “I beg your pardon! The oracle-air? And that would be...?”
“I believe in your universe you call it opium?” Mum says, as though it’s of completely no consequence that there is an entire planet of opium air. “This planet’s inhabitants find it quite soothing. And their bowels are never obstructed.”
Again, Lucifer cringes. Although, his inner-narcotic fiend is thrilled at this development. “Why opium?” The longer he breathes it, the clearer-headed he becomes and he begins to relax.
Mum shrugs regally. “That’s simply how the planet developed when I created it. I barely knew what I was doing then, but it came out well in the end. I haven’t asked—how is Amenadiel? I quite regretted not getting the chance to say goodbye to him before I left.”
“Just as annoying and self-righteous as You remember. And he’s still yet to get that stick out from his arse,” Lucifer quips. His mother gives him a look. “But he regained his wings—I should ask about his powers; we’ve both been rather distracted.”
Mum scoffs. “So your father finally saw fit to give him back his wings—and yours, of course, I see. I’m glad; you never should have cut them off in the first place.”
“Dad didn’t give them back, actually,” Lucifer says carefully. “As it turns out, we angels have rather a lot more control over ourselves than we believed.” Mum looks at him quizzically, so he explains about self-actualization, and the reasons Amenadiel lost then regained his wings—as well as his own wing story, sans lopping them off repeatedly. “And I regained my Lightbringer abilities, as well. Just in time to take care of a pesky immortal infestation in Los Angeles. That's how I was able to travel here without the Flaming Sword.”
“It is just like your father to do something like that to all of you, then force you to figure it out for yourselves. Your brother was torturing himself over losing his wings, and he could have gotten them back at any time?” She scoffs.
Lucifer decides right then not to bring up the whole ‘angels had free will all along, which completely invalidated the Rebellion’ bit of information he learned after family dinner. He still doesn’t know what to make of that himself. “Yes, well, Amenadiel is quite happy with Dr. Linda and their daughter.”
Mum gasps, turning to Lucifer in stunned surprise. “Daughter? Amenadiel, my son, has a...daughter?”
“He does,” Lucifer says delicately, using Emily as the litmus test in deciding whether to tell Her about Lucas and Chloe. “Her name is Emmeline, she’s...several months old now.”
Exhilaration fills Mum’s expression and Lucifer swears the sun grows brighter above them. “I’m...I'm a grandmother?”
“Twice over, as a matter of fact. I also have a child, he’s two months old.”
Lucifer has never seen his mother so happy. It surprises him, only because of her constant rants against humans. “Oh, Lucifer, that is wonderful!” Annoyance flits through Her eyes. “Wait, not with that Detective, I hope.”
He rolls his eyes. “As a matter of fact, yes, Chloe is the mother of my child. And we’re getting married in a few months,” he says proudly.
His mother’s lip curls. “You’re betrothing yourself to your father’s manipulation?”
Jaw tensing, Lucifer pushes back his irritation. “She is not a manipulation,” he says tersely. “The Miracle that Amenadiel delivered contained divinity—enough to transform her into an angel herself. It’s quite a long story, and there are parts of it I’d rather not discuss. But the Detective... She’s the best thing to ever happen to me, Mum. She gave me a home and a family of my own. She loves and accepts me...for me. Something nobody else has ever done in the history of the universe. Her being a Miracle is what allows her to see past her desires, to see the man I truly am, who I want to be. And she gave me a beautiful son. Lucas is...” He huffs, smiling. “He’s perfect, Mum. Oh! Actually...I have some photos.”
Mum is smiling softly. It isn’t an expression he’s used to seeing on Her face, not when they’re discussing humans—or former humans, rather. “I would love to see him. Tell me all about him.”
They land in the middle of a grassy field and Lucifer looks around, then smiles. Vermilion tree leaves. An emerald green sky. Scarlet grass. It’s the world from the stories She used to tell him; She’s recreated it in minute detail, right down to the purple butterflies. As he watches, a golden unicorn gallops past, and above them, a creature closely resembling a phoenix flies, tiny flames appearing in the sky as it flaps its wings. In the distance...is that a centaur?
“Mum, this planet...”
She smiles secretly. “Do you remember?” She asks softly.
A lump of emotion fills his throat, lodging itself there. “I do, yes...” he says quietly. “The stories You used to tell us.”
She nods, crossing Her arms as they walk across the field. “It was the first thing I thought of, after the stars, and the sun and moons, of course. There are kelpies near the great lake here, I know those were your favorites.” They were. ‘Lucifito’ would only ever travel by kelpie in those stories.
As they’re walking towards the lake, Lucifer finally has a minute to try praying to Chloe. Detective? Testing, one, two... Can you hear me, love?
The prayer seems to bounce off an invisible barrier, echoing in his mind, and there isn’t an answer; it’s disappointing, despite having expected it to happen. But he misses Chloe, which is utterly pathetic, as he only saw her a couple hours ago, and prayed to her just before coming to this universe. He can’t sense her, though; it makes sense, Chloe is in a completely different universe. At least in Hell, there was a faint feeling of their connection, and he could have spoken to her that way if he needed to. And he doesn’t have that here. He does his best to ignore the cold, empty feeling inside himself, like something deeply vital is missing.
I am ridiculously gone for that woman... He has to stifle one of his idiotic grins at the thought.
“Tell me about your son. Lucas, did you say?”
Lucifer hums. “Lucas John Morningstar. I don’t know if you’re aware or not, but Lucas means Bringer of Light. Chloe chose his first name, and I chose his middle—John is her late father’s name. He just turned two months old a couple of days ago.”
He reaches for his phone and is amazed to find that it still works here—even if he doesn’t have reception, he can look at photos of his family. He finds the most recent photo in his camera roll—taken last night: a selfie of himself, Chloe, Trixie, Lucas, and Teivel, who managed to squeeze in as well. Lucas is in Chloe’s lap, and she is sitting between Lucifer and Trixie, the former pressing a kiss to her cheek as he snaps the photo. They’re all smiling, which Lucifer took as a win; the Urchin had been distracted most of the evening, worrying, of course, about her father.
“Here.” He hands the phone to Mum.
She stops to stare at it for several moments, a wistful look in Her eyes. “You look happy, son.”
He nods. “I’ve never been happier,” he says softly. “They are my reason for...well, everything. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them.” Even coming to a new universe to convince his mother to allow his father, whom She despises, to move in. “Nor they for me.”
Handing the phone back, Mum smiles. “I’m happy for you, Lucifer.” He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I am. I know I was quite...adamant about all of us returning to Heaven, but I genuinely believed you would be happier there, once you remembered that it wasn’t entirely full of bad memories.”
“You attempted to blow up my partner, Mum!” He can’t help arguing. “You hurt people—including me and Chloe. You nearly killed Dr. Linda, who is fully recovered, by the way.”
Mum sighs and they keep walking. “I know. I made many mistakes, especially with you, Lucifer. And for that, I am sorry. I’ve had quite some time to think about things, and you were right. A fresh start was exactly what I needed. I miss My angels in the Silver City, of course, but My angels here do help.”
“There’s more of them? How many are there?”
“A couple hundred or so?” She says with furrowed eyebrows.
Lucifer blinks incomprehensibly. “A couple hundred? How long have You been here, Mum?”
“Oh...” She exhales, cocking Her head and thinking. It’s such a familiar mannerism that he can’t help smiling. “Ten thousand years, I think? Thereabouts, anyway.”
“That long?” he asks, aghast. “It’s only been two years back home.”
She nods. “Yes, I did notice time moved differently here. But I have had plenty to keep Me occupied. Oh, how’s Daniel, by the way?”
Now Lucifer understands why Chloe facepalms herself so much. “Still a douche. He was in a shooting yesterday, but he’s recovering, fortunately. And he’s getting married. To Charlotte Richards.”
“So, she made it back?” Mum says, pleased. “Good. I had wondered if it worked or not.”
Lucifer stops. “Hang on. You brought Charlotte’s soul back from Hell?”
“I did. I enjoyed her life, for the most part, aside from that husband and small offspring, and she deserved to experience all of that herself. So, when I felt My powers returning, I used a bit of it to return her to her body. It would have been a shame for that skin suit to simply rot.”
And there’s another mystery solved. Lucifer could never figure out how Charlotte was able to return to her body that day on the beach. He thought it was a possibility that Mum was responsible; or that when She vacated Charlotte’s body, it somehow triggered pulling her back to Earth. Perhaps it shouldn't be such a surprise; after all, Amenadiel pulled Malcolm's soul from an active Loop, and Lucifer did it with Abel. Of course the Goddess of All Creation, having regained her powers, could do the same.
“Well, she is thriving.”
“I’m happy to hear it. But you say you didn’t come here to catch up; why are you really here, Lucifer?”
Lucifer takes a deep breath. “Right. About that... Dad’s on Earth.”
Mum laughs. He’s never heard her laugh like that before, honestly, a real, true laugh as though what he’s said is the funniest thing in the world. When he doesn’t join in, however, She sobers. “You’re...not joking,” She says flatly.
He shakes his head. “Afraid not. He showed up around the time Lucas was born to ‘meet His grandchildren’, and He’s been there since. I’ve only seen Him a couple of times. He’s living in Dr. Linda’s guest bedroom, on their bloody futon.”
Her jaw tightens. This is a more familiar expression. Lucifer has to stop himself from taking a step backwards—after all, Mum has all Her powers here. And more, it would seem, if She’s creating new angels on Her own. “Of course, My ex-Husband would show up after I left and spent all that time on that dirty rock trying to get His attention.” She scoffs.
“Yes, well... We all gathered for a family dinner a couple weeks ago—myself, Amenadiel, Dad, and Michael—”
“Michael is on Earth, as well? That is a surprise.”
“Tell me about it,” Lucifer grumbles irritably. “He’s been showing up at my penthouse at random to annoy me. So far, he’s not done anything too overt, aside from being a massive dick. After the dinner, Dad showed up at Lux with Amenadiel, and announced that He is ‘retiring’.”
“Retiring?” Mum repeats skeptically. “As God of the universe?”
Lucifer hums in the affirmative. “I mentioned that Daniel was shot yesterday? Dad healed him—but for a price.”
Mum narrows Her eyes. “What price?” She asks in a lethal voice.
Lucifer fiddles with his remaining cufflink. “He asked me to come here, to ask whether You would permit Him to move here, as well.”
She scoffs. “Absolutely not! What, He’s finished with His own Creation, so now He wants to come take over Mine? Who does He think He is? First, He sends Me to Hell, then He ignores Me the entire time I was on that smelly Earth rock, and now He wants to fix Our marriage?” She laughs incredulously. “You can go back to Earth, and tell Him to shove His Creation up His celestial hindquarters, sideways.”
Lucifer sighs. He’d known this would be Her reaction. “Mum...I don’t know Dad’s reasons for wanting to come here; I’ve had more than enough of His ‘explanations’. But...well. He did seem sincere in wanting to come here and be with You. And if He isn’t on Earth, He can’t screw up my life anymore than He already has. I don’t blame You for being angry with Him—I’m quite furious, myself—but the only way any of my siblings are going to get the chance to live their own lives is if Dad isn’t omnipotently over their shoulders all the time watching every last thing they do. You don’t have to forgive Him, but I can’t have Him near my son.”
“And you think I want Him near My other children? So He can do to them what He did to you and your brothers and sisters? I’m finally free of Him, Lucifer, I have no intention of returning to a loveless marriage!”
“I’m not suggesting You do. But surely You have some uninhabitable rock He can spend His retirement days on, golfing?”
She purses Her lips. “Well, there is a planet full of creatures that feed on divinity... It was an accident, but the planet itself is thriving. I’m hoping the ecosystem will sort itself out and evolve, but at the moment, it is quite toxic. It’s the only place He would be permitted to travel. My new angels are quite loyal to Me, and won’t take kindly to His behavior.”
“Sounds bloody perfect to me. So, when can we have His celestial U-Haul sent this way?” he asks hopefully.
“Now, I did not say that He could,” Mum sniffs, crossing Her arms. “What does He really want?”
Lucifer sighs wearily. “I don’t know. All I know is that He asked me to come here to speak with You, and that I want Him out of my universe and away from my family as soon as celestially possible. Perhaps...He misses You, Mum.”
“And who is going to replace Him?”
“That is the other issue, actually. He seems to think that Amenadiel or I desire the job, and whilst neither of us does, since we simply want to be left alone to raise our families, Michael has decided to throw his halo in the ring. He has already threatened to have me unceremoniously shipped off back to Hell and to cart my family off to the Silver City for the rest of eternity—and that is not something I can allow to happen, so...I’ve decided to challenge him.”
Mum looks at him in surprise. “You’re going to become God?” He waits for Her to tell him it is the worst idea She has ever heard, but She tilts Her head to the side, considering. “Well, you would certainly do a better job than your father. “
“Thank you, Mum, for that ringing endorsement,” he says, packing in all the sarcasm he can muster.
Sarcasm that flies over Her head completely. She nods regally. “You’re welcome. And I quite agree, you do not deserve to return to Hell; you’ve done your time. You should remain with your family, Lucifer. Your father and I made many mistakes with you children, but leaving you to fend for yourselves was the worst. I do hope you tell your son that you love him.”
Lucifer studies Her closely, Her expression almost contrite. “I do,” he confirms softly. “Many times a day. Not that he understands a word I’m telling him, of course...”
“He understands,” she counters confidently. “Your children always understand when You communicate it properly. Just...don’t repeat our mistakes, son. If you do become God, do not ignore your family; hear them out, always. Cherish them, Lucifer. Every day.”
“I do. But they make that easy for me, after all they’ve done for me, wretched soul that I am.”
“You are not a wretched soul, son,” She argues vehemently. “You’re better than your father and I put together, and you always have been. I suppose it is our fault, letting you believe the worst of yourself for so long.” She sighs, looking around as She thinks. “Very well, I suppose.”
Lucifer looks at her warily; it sounds as though She has come to a grudging decision. “Very well...what, exactly?”
“Your father may come here. But there will be ground rules, and if He breaks them, We will see how He likes My version of Hell.” The malicious smile on Her face cannot mean anything good, but Lucifer doesn’t particularly care, not if She is truly agreeing.
He nods. “I would expect no less, Mum. But...why are You agreeing? I was certain You would laugh me out of Your universe when I brought it up.”
Her expression softens. “Because I want to make amends—to you and to the rest of your siblings. I made so many mistakes with you children, from the time that you were created. To be fair, though, it isn’t as though your father or I had anybody to show us how to be parents. But our worst mistakes were with you, Lucifer. You never should have gone to Hell, son, and you never should have suffered the way you did. I certainly did not help matters during My time on Earth, trying to manipulate you into starting that war. I could see even then what that Detective of yours meant to you, and I still tried to break you up. So I am sorry, for all of it. And if this is how I can begin making amends for all the hurt and pain that I have caused you, then perhaps one day, you might forgive Me for it. Even if it will mean allowing my bastard of an ex-husband to live here.”
He stares at Her for several speechless moments, his brain jumping from thought to thought, feeling to feeling, without being able to settle on one long enough to voice it. How long has he desired for his parents to apologize for all of the bullshit they put him through? And how long has it been since he convinced himself it would never happen?
“I forgive you, Mum.” The words are out of his mouth before he even has a chance to process them. She looks at him in stunned surprise, Her eyes filling with tears and a tentative, hopeful smile on Her lips. “I’ve only been a father a short while, but I am starting to understand the sacrifices a parent must make for their child. And while You certainly could have gone about it in a better way...well. As You said, nobody ever demonstrated for You how to be a parent, did they? The right or the wrong.” He certainly never learned how to be in a healthy, loving relationship from his parents, but he happens to think he’s done a rather good job of it with Chloe so far.
An ache fills his chest at the thought of his partner. It’s only been a few hours, and he feels that anxious energy to get back to her—and their son.
“Thank you, son. Let us talk about these rules for your father’s arrival, then you can return to your family...” Threading Her arm through his, they start walking along the water. Lucifer inwardly grimaces. This shouldn’t take more than a few hours...
Chapter 23: Free Will
Chapter Text
When he finally touches down on the penthouse balcony, it’s late—though he doesn’t know just how late, since his phone battery died in Mum’s universe after spending some time showing Her more photos of Lucas, and the few he has of Emily. She couldn’t have looked more amazed by Her grandchildren if She tried and wanted to know every last detail about them. It would seem starting over was the best thing possible for Mum; She seemed less...chaotic than ever before. And happier. Lucifer is pleased that he made the right decision two years ago. There have been times he wasn’t certain he did, even though he knew it was the only choice if he wished to protect those he loved.
He even managed to convince Her to hand over Azrael’s blade to him, though only after he gave his word to only use it as a last, final resort. She doesn’t want to lose another child, and Lucifer couldn’t blame Her for that. After assuring Her he is trying to prevent more sibling deaths, Mum insisted that he meet a few of Her other children, all of whom bear resemblance to Lucifer and his siblings in some way—it was a bit creepy to be honest, especially the one who looked like him. And they all were more than happy to meet him, which made him wonder what, exactly, Mum told them.
Still, the only thing on his mind was getting home, and the longer he was separated through time and space from his loved ones, the more apprehensive he became. It occurred to him that he would have no clue if Michael decided to make a move against Chloe and Lucas whilst he was away. And if that is the case...well, he will be making use of the Flaming Sword far sooner than anticipated.
The main room of the penthouse is mostly dark when he arrives, the only source of light coming from behind the bar and the tree root chandelier, which Chloe always insists on keeping lit when she sleeps. Ever since Cain and the factory, she has developed an aversion for sleeping in total darkness—something he can completely relate to; he has the same aversion after Hell.
Clearly, it’s late enough in the night for his family to be fast asleep, which is unfortunate; he’d hoped to be home by Lucas’s bedtime at the latest, as it’s one of his favorite times of the day. But no matter, this simply means he can crawl into bed with Chloe and fall asleep in her arms. After the day he’s had, that is exactly what he desires.
First, though, he makes his way to the bar and pours himself a much-needed drink. He’ll need to find a place for Azrael’s blade, somewhere Michael can’t find it—perhaps in the wall again? That worked out well the first time around. And he doesn’t imagine Chloe will be thrilled about having a soul-eating blade loose in the same house as her children, especially when they both know the Urchin likes to snoop through his possessions. Lucifer has had to lock up his more risqué items, along with his narcotics stash (not that he uses the latter anymore; he mostly keeps it around to restock Lux’s supply for his patrons’ purchase and enjoyment). But he can’t hide it in another of his properties; he wants it nearby, where he can keep an eye on it.
He hears a door open down the hall in the direction of Lucas’s nursery and turns with a smile on his lips as Chloe steps out, carefully and quietly shutting it behind her. “Ah! There you are, Detective! I was just about to come and find you.”
Chloe startles and yelps in surprise. He stifles his amusement at the reaction, though he hadn’t intended to frighten her. For a moment, she stands stockstill, staring at the closed nursery door and he doesn’t even think she’s breathing. Then, so slowly, she turns in his direction. Abruptly, all the color drains from her face, her eyes widen, and her mouth falls open as she stares at him, as if she’s drinking him in. He thinks she even mouths his name.
“Detective? Are you all right, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which I know isn’t possible, as my dear sister wouldn’t allow a soul to wander free of its own accord.” The longer he watches her, the more he gets a sense that something may be wrong; she didn’t even look at him like this when he returned from Hell. Setting down his drink, Lucifer comes out from behind the bar, watching her intently. “Chloe, darling? What is it? Is Lucas all right?”
There are tears leaking from her eyes and her hand covers her mouth, trying to stifle the sob that fights its way out of her throat. “Lucifer,” she breathes in incredulous amazement, her voice breaking. “You’re back.”
“What? Of course I’m back.” He tries to laugh it off—perhaps she’s just tired from a long day? “I told you I would be. Honestly, love, what’s the matter? You’re worrying me...”
Abruptly, she lets out a sob and rushes towards him, throwing herself into him, and wraps her arms around his shoulders. Her face presses into his neck as she holds him tighter than a vise, and he can feel her body shaking with emotion. He overcomes his surprise quickly, holding her in return and trying to soothe...whatever this is, but she’s nearly inconsolable. Cradling the back of her head with one hand, he rubs her back soothingly, bemused as he is, and feels her wings fluttering in their pocket universe as if they’re desperate to reach him, too.
Is she thinner than she was this morning? That can’t be right... But his Chloe Decker-spidey-sense is blaring in alarm that something has happened, and he has no idea what that could possibly be—and she doesn’t seem able to tell him at the moment.
“Hey, it’s all right, love. I’m here,” he murmurs softly against her ear. He’s never been more confused than he is right now. “Honestly, Detective... I know you must have missed me, because...well, who wouldn’t, but I’ve only been away a few hours...”
She backs away just enough to look at him and his worry deepens. And along with it, a fear that he is missing something vital. Her face is drawn as if she hasn’t slept in weeks (he knows she has, even with a newborn in the house), and she is pale, too pale. What the bloody hell is happening? Then, with just a few words, she wrecks him.
“Hours?” she croaks through her tears, shaking her head. “Lucifer...you’ve been gone for two months...”
One of his hands shoots out for balance against the bar when his knees go wobbly. His heart stops beating as he stares at her in shock. He would ask her if she’s joking, but Chloe has never looked more serious, and he can see the abject grief and pain in her eyes.
“What?” he breathes, stricken. He shakes his head, because that can’t be possible. “No, that—” He struggles for words, for some explanation. Anything to negate her words or to prove her wrong. Because if that’s true...
She nods. “It’s June eighth.”
Lucas’s four-month birthday. Lucifer has missed half of his son’s life. How? “That can’t be. You-you’re joking. Right?” He knows she isn’t, but he has to ask.
She glares at him through red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. “Do I look like I’m joking?”
He studies her carefully, searching her gaze for the truth, then falls back against the bar when he finds it. Not that he has to look hard. Chloe keeps a tight hold on his lapels as if she fears that he will disappear if she releases him for even a second. “I-it was only hours there,” he says weakly, his chest painfully tight. It hurts to breathe. “Chloe, I swear to you, it was only hours that I was away...”
What must she have thought all this time? That he was dead in some other universe? That he left her? It must have been torment for her, not knowing where he was or whether he would ever come home. Guilt floods him at the thought; all this, because he just had to go on an errand for his father! Lucifer doesn’t even know where to begin fixing this; he abandoned his family for months, after promising them he would be home soon. After giving his word that he would never, ever leave them.
She searches his eyes in return, something like relief flashing briefly in her own, then she nods, sniffling. “I believe you,” she whispers. Some of the pressure in his chest releases at her words; at least she doesn’t think he did this to her on purpose. She presses closer, hugging him again, even tighter than before. “I missed you so much, Lucifer. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Oh, Chloe... “ He curls himself around her, cradling her to his chest. “I am so, so sorry, my love, I had no idea it had been this long.” In fact, hadn’t Mum told him that it had been upwards of ten thousand years that she had been in that universe? If anything, he should have returned home within seconds of his leaving. “Are you okay? Is Lucas? Trixie?”
Chloe nods. “They’re okay,” she whispers, her voice muffled by his chest. He notices she doesn’t say that she is okay. “None of us knew what to think, Lucifer. After that first week, I asked your dad if He knew how to get you back or if you were okay, at least, and He said He has no way of telling in your mom’s universe—His powers don’t work there, I guess? Then, Amenadiel said you had his piece of the Flaming Sword in case your powers weren’t working—” She shakes her head hopelessly, her eyes flooding with tears again. Lucifer can feel anguish rolling off her in waves. “We all tried to find a way to get to you, to get you back, but we had nothing.” The frustration in her voice is evident. “Everyone thinks you’re...” She trails off, unable to finish the sentence. But she doesn’t need to. They all believed he was dead.
Fucking hell...
“I’m okay,” he murmurs, hating himself for putting her through all of this. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I would have lost my mind with worry.”
“I’m not entirely sure I haven’t,” she says with a weak, wet laugh, backing away to look at him.
She tenderly cups his face in her hands, drinking him in as her thumbs stroke along his beard. Then she surges forward and kisses him hard, tugging on his collar to hold in place, and she seems to pour every ounce of fear, grief, longing, and love she has felt in the last two months into it. He moans against her mouth and she swallows it, tangling her fingers into his hair. The kiss lasts for long, wonderful minutes, and when they part, they’re both panting as she hugs him again.
“I was so scared, Lucifer. I couldn’t feel you, and the longer you were gone...”
His heart hurts at the pain in her voice. “I’m sorry,” he says yet again, imagining that he will be apologizing for this for some time.
Chloe shakes her head against his shoulder. “It isn’t your fault.”
“Isn’t it? Am I not the one who agreed to the deal with my father?”
“To save Dan,” she argues. “Lucifer, it isn’t like you did this on purpose! You didn’t know, none of us did, and you had no way of knowing. I don’t blame you.”
Well, that makes one of us... he thinks bitterly.
“I missed so much,” he says desolately. “Two months of our son’s life, Chloe.” He needs to see Lucas; to see that his son is okay. “Where is he? Can I see him?”
She gives him a tiny, genuine smile. “You never have to ask,” she tells him gently but firmly. “Of course you can see him, Lucifer; you’re his father.” Without another word, she turns and leads him by the hand down the hall to Lucas’s nursery. Every few steps, she glances back at him over her shoulder, checking to make sure he’s still with her. “I just got him down to sleep, but I’m sure he’ll be so happy to see you.”
Lucifer barely hears her, stepping into the room and crossing to the crib in a few long strides. The ceiling projection is on, as are the dim star lights embedded there. Teivel is here, now the size of a Great Dane, which confirms how much time he’s lost, curled up near Lucas’s crib. The hound jumps to his feet excitedly at the sight of Lucifer, but holds himself back, as if he knows now isn’t the time for a reunion. He woofs softly in greeting, tongue lolling happily, and his tail thumping on the thick carpet.
But Lucifer only has eyes for his son. He has to grip the railing of the crib to keep his balance as he takes in all the changes Lucas has undergone in two months. He’s bigger, of course, taller than he was when Lucifer last saw him this morning (or what feels like this morning for him), and his curly hair is thicker and longer than it had been. His facial features are more defined now, and he is the perfect mix between Chloe and Lucifer—her nose, his ears, her eyes, his mouth.
He is beautiful.
Cautiously, not wishing to wake him, Lucifer reaches down into the crib and smooths his palm over his son’s hair, then trails a finger down his soft, chubby cheek. He feels Chloe come to stand beside him, her hand on the small of his back and her head on his shoulder, and he realizes that he’s crying.
I've missed so much...
“Does he still have your eye color?” he whispers, transfixed by his sleeping son.
He can feel her smile as she nods. “Yep. You were right about that.” He smiles weakly.
He’s okay, Lucifer, I promise. I’ve been taking care of him.
Oh, I’ve no doubt that you have, Detective. I just wish I’d been here. I should have bloody well been here...
She hugs him in comfort and he wraps one arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head, whilst his free hand rests on Lucas’s pudgy baby belly, enjoying the feel of him breathing as he sleeps.
I do, too. But you’re back now, and if you think I’m ever letting you out of my sight again, you’ve got another thing coming, mister.
That makes him laugh. I wouldn’t have it any other way, my love...
After a while, Lucifer forces himself to walk away and allow Lucas to sleep on. Chloe leads him to their bedroom. His side of the bed is perfectly made while hers is a tangle of blankets and sheets, as if she’s spent her nights tossing and turning without resting. He feels even worse.
“He’s laughing now.”
Lucifer looks away from the bed to Chloe, who’s smiling at him. The first real smile he's seen on her face since she saw him standing at the bar. “What?”
“Lucas. He started laughing last week.”
His heart sinks. “I missed his first laugh?”
Chloe tugs him over to sit down beside her at the edge of the bed. “He won’t go to sleep without me playing one of the videos I have of you singing for him from my phone,” she says softly. “And that night, he just...started laughing like it was all the funniest thing in the world. He was so happy to hear your voice.”
She reaches up to wipe away a stray tear falling from his eyes. “And he’s starting to figure out how to push himself up on his arms—he doesn’t really have the strength, yet, but he tries. There’s this...intelligence in his eyes when he looks around, he’s so curious about everything. He is definitely going to be trouble later on, just like his daddy.” She bumps his shoulder with hers. “I see you in him every time I look at him, Lucifer. He and Trixie were the only reasons I managed to get through these last two months.”
He closes his eyes as a rush of pain erupts in his chest, right down to his soul. How could he have fucked things up so thoroughly? “I’m sorry,” he says for the nth time, his own anguish pouring out in the face of hers. “I’ll make this right, Chloe. I’ll find a way to make this up to you.”
“You don’t have to make it up to me, Lucifer. It sucked—it really fucking sucked—but it isn’t like this was intentional.”
Lucifer will never not be awed by Chloe’s kindness and grace. Here she is, after being abandoned for two months by her partner, and she’s trying to absolve him of his guilt. “I never should have left you. Please, tell me what I can do to make this right,” he pleads with her, needing to do something to wipe away the agony he can still see in her eyes.
She leans forward, resting her forehead against his, a gesture that has come to mean everything between them. “You can kiss me,” she whispers longingly.
He doesn’t hesitate, slipping a hand behind her neck and molding his mouth with hers. She moans in relief when his tongue tangles with hers, and he uses every trick he knows to make her squirm and whine. Her hands fist in his hair and she pulls herself into his lap, straddling him, and starts yanking at his clothing. She hasn’t been this eager since their first time, ripping his shirt open without bothering to attempt unbuttoning it, and running her hands all over his chest, his shoulders, his back, reacquainting herself with every inch of him. Panting already, his lips find her neck, sucking and biting marks into her skin, and soothing them with his tongue as he removes her pajama shirt and shorts.
It only takes a couple minutes from the time they start kissing before they’re both completely naked and he has her on her back against the mattress, looming over her. His hands slide down her body, taking in every change—she has lost weight, and she didn’t have much to lose to begin with. He kisses from her neck to her breasts, sucking a dusky nipple between his lips and making her cry out in joy and relief.
“Yes...” she whimpers, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Lucifer...more...”
He growls through his mouthful, switching breasts and repeating everything he did to the other. One hand on the breast not in his mouth, his free hand moves lower. She eagerly spreads her legs for him and curses when he feels her already wet folds, slipping one, then two fingers inside her to the knuckle and pumping fast and hard. He needs to hear her; to make her feel something other than hurt and grief; to see her fall apart because of him.
Leaving her breasts for now, he kisses down her sternum and her belly, letting his tongue dip into her bellybutton, then settles himself between her legs, throwing them over his shoulders. Chloe lifts herself onto her elbows to watch him, her eyes half-lidded, and nearly black with need and desire. Lucifer doesn’t waste a second, while his crooked fingers find every spot inside her that makes her keen, his mouth latches onto her clit and his tongue flutters against it.
She cries out again, one hand gripping the sheets, the other tangling in his hair to hold him in place. The sting of pain makes him hiss in pleasure. When she starts to squirm, he holds her down, one arm thrown across her hips, and she laces her fingers with his. Lucifer squeezes her fingers, reminding her he’s here with her, giving her the intimacy they both desire. He’s never had that with anybody before her; there will never be another. Just her. His Detective.
Her sounds become more desperate, thighs tightening around his head, muscles clenching around his fingers. She’s close. Growling into her as the heat rises between them, charging the air with electricity, he doubles down, pushing a third finger inside her, eyes locked on her as she throws her head back and screams his name, her body shaking in pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Faintly, he hopes the Urchin isn’t home—or that she’s at least wearing her noise-canceling headphones...
He works her through her climax, prolonging it as much as possible. When she falls back into the bed, panting to catch her breath, he crawls up her body, kissing every square inch of her, until he reaches her mouth. He kisses her long and deep, settling against her with his hips flush to hers, lifting one of her legs to wrap around his waist, not wasting another second being away from her.
“So bloody beautiful,” he whispers, kissing all over her face. He can’t choose where he wants to linger more. “My Detective.”
“Yours,” she sighs, opening her eyes and looking at him with a mixture of love and lust that he doesn’t think he will ever tire of seeing. “I need you, Lucifer. Please.”
She never has to beg him. Well. Unless that’s the game they’re playing. Right now, though, he needs to show her what she means to him, to remind her, since she has been without him for so long. For him, it was only this morning that they woke up in bed together and he excitedly told her that he created a new star. But for her, it’s been weeks of fear and uncertainty, and wondering if he was dead in a ditch in some other universe. It’s a pain he never would have wanted her to suffer, and he wishes it had been the reverse—that he had been without her for months, if only to spare her this.
“I love you, Chloe,” he murmurs, suddenly desperate for her to know. “I love you so bloody much...”
Tears flood her eyes as she smiles. “I love you, too,” she whispers, cupping his face.
Lucifer reaches between them, aligning himself with her entrance. As he slides into her, he’s careful; it’s been months for her, and he isn’t exactly small. He presses kisses to her face, her neck, her shoulders, everywhere he can reach as he buries himself inside her. She gasps at the intrusion, tightening her legs around his waist and her arms wrap around his shoulders, holding him as closely as she can manage.
“So bloody good,” he groans when he’s fully seated inside her.
She nods frantically, her face pressed to his shoulder. “Missed you...”
“I missed you, too, Chloe,” he whispers. It may not have been two bloody months for him, but he missed her; it felt like he lost half of himself without being able to sense her and their connection. Now, he feels whole again. And to know that she suffered that emptiness for months... Oh, it hurts. “I’ll never leave you again,” he promises softly.
“Good.” She kisses his neck, nipping that spot below his ear that makes him whine. “Lucifer...” She digs her heels into his arse, silently begging him to move.
Well. He doesn’t need to be asked twice. Slowly, he pulls his hips back until he has nearly left her completely, then slides back in, savoring every inch of her body. His own shudders with pleasure and heat; love and lust. He feels everything with her. Her head falls back against the pillows, and she moans and stares up at him like he is everything to her. He knows the feeling. They keep a slow pace for a time, reacquainting themselves with the other, until Chloe whispers for him to go faster. Harder. Pushing himself to his elbows, he pulls out, then slams back into her. She moans loudly, digging her fingernails into his shoulders with one hand and scratching down his back with the other.
“Is that what you want, Chloe?” he breathes, sucking a bloom into her collarbone.
She nods desperately, whimpering for more.
Lucifer gives her what she desires. He gives her everything. Fucking her into the mattress and kissing her ravenously, but with no less skill than he always gives her—only the best for his Detective, after all. And it feels so good, her muscles contracting around his cock, pulling him deeper as if she wants him to stay here with her, just like this, until the end of time. That would be just fine and dandy for him.
“Almost there,” she whimpers, cradling his head to her breast when he curls over her to suck a nipple between his lips. He groans in acknowledgment, snapping his hips harder and faster until she screams out his name again, her body tensing and shaking around him.
“Fuck,” he moans, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She’s so bloody tight around him he can hardly move, but he manages to hold himself back from his own pleasure until he’s worked her through hers. “Chloe... My Chloe...”
Her fingers comb through his hair as she whispers encouragement—telling him that she missed him, and she loves him, and come for me, Lucifer. The sound he makes is some amalgamation of her name, a whimper and a groan, and a sob, all at once. Wrapping his arms around her, he buries himself as deeply inside her as he can reach, wanting to become one with her so that they’re never separated again.
He is fairly certain that he passes out. When he finally lifts his head from her neck, feeling dazed and sated, his entire body tingling with pleasure, she’s watching him with love in her eyes. Her tears are back, but he’s sure they’re happy ones this time. He kisses her, languid and sweet, pouring every ounce of love and affection that he has for her into it. Always grateful to be here, like this, with her.
Chloe hums against his mouth. “I missed that, too,” she says with a laugh, caressing his face like he’s precious to her.
“It hasn’t been that long for me, but...yes, so have I.” His teasing smile falters when he thinks about how long it's been for her and what she must have gone through in that time. “Chloe, I—”
She shakes her head, placing a finger over his lips to silence him. “Please, stop apologizing, Lucifer. All that matters now is that you’re home. And you’re safe. We can figure out everything else later.”
He kisses her finger. “Together?” he whispers hopefully.
“You’re damn right, together. Partners ‘til the end. Remember?”
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he nods. “Partners ‘til the end.”
As they giggle and stumble into the shower to clean themselves up, Chloe can hardly believe this is real. The last two months have been grueling—full of anger and grief and pain she hadn’t known she could feel. At first, she didn’t panic too much, but as days turned to weeks, she began to fear the worst; that Lucifer couldn’t come back, because something happened to him.
Appealing to God got her nowhere. She went to Him after the first week of no word and left feeling worse than when she arrived. God told her He could not see into His wife's universe; couldn’t see anything past the point where Lucifer crossed over. And when it seemed to her as if He didn’t care whether His son was alive or dead...well. She may have lost her temper, but it felt good to take out her fear, worry, grief, and everything else on the being who caused her partner so much suffering for so long.
Frankly, she was lucky not to get smited.
Chloe hardly slept in those agonizing two months, not after the nightmares started, at least. Visions in her mind’s eye of Lucifer’s bloodied, broken body floating in some foreign universe’s outer space; a horde of bloodthirsty creatures attacking him the moment he crossed over and ripping his body to shreds; there was even one where his mother was his attacker, smiting him to oblivion for locking Her away. Chloe’s imagination and subconscious coupled in order to torment her in her sleeping hours as well as her waking ones. Most nights, she ended up sleeping in her daughter's bed, or on the loveseat in Lucas’s nursery—her children were her only comfort.
Chloe has never been the type to fall to pieces over a man, but it’s different with Lucifer. This soul-bond that they share, it’s unique and stronger than anything she could have dreamed of experiencing with another person. Without Lucifer, without being able to sense his presence, she felt...incomplete. Like part of her soul had been ripped out of her. She couldn’t understand what happened; he was only supposed to be gone a few hours.
Did something happen to him? Was he unable to return the way he left? Or had he finally gotten bored of her and this domestic life, and left to live in that other universe, returning to the playboy lifestyle?
She knew the latter wasn’t a possibility. But that voice in the back of her mind would hiss the question at her at the most inopportune times, telling her she wasn’t good enough to hold onto him, and he finally got bored. Lucifer would never do that to her, though, and he would certainly never do it to Lucas. His biggest fatherhood fear is ending up like his own; he would never willingly leave his child fatherless.
Which, of course, begged the question of what did happen?
And she doesn’t blame him for this. For him, it’s not even been a full twenty-four hours since he first left their universe, and the look of astonished anguish in his eyes when he realized how long it's been for them tore at her already ravaged heart. That he has missed all this time with his family, with their infant son, is heartbreaking. It’s unfair. But she knows he will make up for it. Not that he needs to; all she needs is for him to be here. And to never leave them again.
After their shower, they fall into bed together, Chloe in one of his shirts, as has become her habit, Lucifer wearing red silk pajama bottoms. She doesn’t waste a second curling up against his side, her head nestled beneath his chin—back where they belong: Together. The Detective and her Devil.
She sighs contentedly, feeling like she can finally breathe freely again without that painful tightness in her chest that has been her constant companion for the last two months. Her heart is beating again, and she feels the warmth of their connection running through her veins. The feeling of it is indescribable.
Lucifer is home. And in one piece. That is all that matters.
“Where’s the Urchin?” he murmurs into her hair, one arm holding her close while the fingers of the other toy with her left hand—her engagement ring.
“At Dan’s,” she tells him lazily, feeling sated and sleepy after two rounds of mind-blowing sex—the second in the shower. “He’s been taking her more often to give me a break so I can focus on Lucas. She’s been so great the last few weeks, Lucifer. I don’t know what I would have done without her and Lucas.”
Her kids were her reasons to get out of bed on those mornings when she didn’t want to do anything except curl up and hide from the world. Lucas is beginning to resemble Lucifer more and more everyday, and while it was occasionally painful looking into that face, it was also a comfort. She had this connection to Lucifer through their son, at least.
He stiffens and she feels guilty. She hadn’t said it to make him feel bad again. “Chloe...”
Lifting her head to look at him, she sees the torment in his eyes. The guilt and the remorse. “Don’t. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, Lucifer. It happened. Okay? There isn’t anything we can do to change it. Just...promise me you won’t leave again.” She couldn’t endure that loss again. It nearly broke her completely.
“You have my word,” he says without hesitation. “I will never go anywhere we can’t sense each other ever again. If I had known, I never would have left.”
“I know,” she says hastily. “Babe, I know that. But we’re okay.”
He watches her sadly. “Are you, though?” he murmurs softly, cupping his hand to her cheek. She nuzzles against him, desperate for his touch. “You don’t seem it, Chloe.”
She can’t lie to him, but sometimes she wishes she could. “I will be,” she says carefully, staring at the scar on his chin. “It hasn’t been easy, Lucifer. I felt—empty is the best word I can think of. Like half of me was missing. Most days, I didn’t want to get out of bed. But I haven’t been alone. I had Trixie and Lucas, and our friends. And I had work.” She buried herself in work during the day. “I just...missed you.”
Anguish explodes in his eyes as he pulls her close. “I’m here, Chloe. I’m so terribly sorry. Never again, love.”
She nods against his shoulder. “I love you, Lucifer Morningstar.”
“I love you, too, Chloe Decker. Tell me everything I missed? Has Daniel recovered? Don’t ever tell him I said this, but it would be a tragedy to go through all of this and have him still injured.”
Chloe laughs. It’s the first genuine laugh that’s come from her lips in months that hasn’t been because of the kids. “Dan is fine. Completely recovered. He and Charlotte are married.”
Lucifer jolts in surprise. “What? And I missed it?”
“It was just a courthouse wedding, then a party afterwards. A couple weeks after Dan got out of the hospital, they decided to elope.”
Lucifer scoffs. “Does Daniel know how to marry any other way? Bloody hell, first you, now Charlotte...I do hope he doesn’t go for the trifecta.”
It feels so good to roll her eyes at his ridiculousness again. Chloe doesn’t think she’ll stop smiling for a week. “Yeah, I thought it was pretty funny, too. But it’s what they wanted, and they’re happy. They’re going on their honeymoon next week—Paris.”
There is a look in Lucifer’s eyes that tells Chloe he’s going to try to pay for that honeymoon to make up for missing the wedding and the party. “I suppose if it makes them happy. Was the cake filled with pudding?”
Chloe’s lips twitch. “No, but there was a pudding fountain, which was weird—and kind of gross. They had the party here at Lux. Patrick was wonderful for organizing everything at the last minute.”
He hums. “Yes, he’s quite good at that. Do remind me to give him a raise, darling. And the others? Is my father still here?”
She rolls her eyes, feeling her expression darken. “Unfortunately,” she says resentfully. “He and I are not on good terms.”
Alarm flashes through his eyes. “Why? What did He do?” he asks sharply, starting to sit up as if he’s preparing to go after his father.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “That was the problem. He wouldn’t lift a damn finger to help find you. He claimed His powers didn’t work in your mother’s universe, like He was blocked somehow. I may have...taken my anger and everything else out on Him—I kind of punched Him in the face.”
Lucifer sits straight up, staring down at her. There’s equal amounts of fear and reverence in his expression. “You did not!”
She nods, smirking. “Oh, I so did. Amenadiel had to hold me back from doing it a second time. I was just so angry with Him, and He just sat there with that annoying, benign smile on His face. And the thing was, I could see He was worried, too, when you didn’t return. And if God was worried...” That crippling desolation threatens to overtake her again. “But anyway—mmph...”
Lucifer kisses her hard. “Chloe Decker. You never cease to amaze me.” She smiles at him, tracing his lips with her fingers. “What about Michael? Has he shown our face around here whilst I was away?”
“Once,” she says, rolling her eyes and suppressing a shudder as she remembers a dream she had about her partner’s twin. She’ll never tell Lucifer about it; he’d smite Michael on principle. “He showed up at the precinct one day, pretending to be you. I knew it was him instantly; I would know you anywhere, Lucifer. I told him if he ever tried that again, I’d shoot him in the head with a Hell-forged bullet. Haven’t seen him since.”
There had been the tiniest fraction of a second when she saw Michael coming down the bullpen staircase when her heart leapt, but she immediately realized that she couldn’t feel her connection with Lucifer. She knew Michael was an impostor before he even took a breath to speak with Lucifer’s accent—and even that sounded wrong.
Even tonight, when she heard Lucifer greet her, it took her a moment as she searched for that connection to confirm it was him. And when she realized she was truly feeling it, that it wasn’t just some phantom sensation like she’s had more than once... There aren’t words to describe her elation and relief.
“I don’t doubt for a second that you would, Detective,” he says proudly. “Well done. And everybody else is well? Miss Lopez, Dr. Linda? Mazikeen and Eve?...my idiot brother?”
She smiles at the genuine concern and fondness in his voice that he tries to hide. “Everybody is fine. Worried about you, of course.”
And believing the worst had come to pass; they were careful not to say so around her, because she would have snapped at them, but she got the feeling most of her friends believed Lucifer was dead. After a month of no leads and no way to travel between universes, they believed that if the Devil and the Lightbringer couldn’t find a way home, all hope was lost. And it infuriated Chloe that they just gave up so easily.
She’s gone through every book in Lucifer’s library, and the books he has in storage, for anything that might have helped her find him. Chloe has learned more about inter-dimensional travel in the last two months than she ever wanted to know.
She even asked Amenadiel to talk to their sister Gabriel, to ask her to go to the other universe to find out where Lucifer was; the answer was a scoff from the angel and, “Why should we help Lucifer? He’s finally out of our hair. He can stay gone for all I care.” Chloe swears if she ever meets Gabriel...
“I’ll have to thank them,” Lucifer says softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “For taking care of you in my absence. Though I’m sure you were incredible as ever.”
Chloe looks away. She didn’t feel incredible; she felt lost and brokenhearted. She felt pathetic. Lucifer gently turns her back, and she nearly sobs when she sees her smile on his lips—the one he’s only ever given her. Oh, she missed his smile...
“My brave, strong Detective.”
“What about you?” she asks hastily, needing to change the subject before she cries again. She has had enough crying for an eternity. “What was your mom’s universe like?”
He huffs, his hand falling to her waist. “Quite impressive, actually. It would seem that I have half-siblings.”
Chloe blinks. “Wait, what?”
He nods, smirking. “Mum got lonely, and somehow created new angels on Her own. I don’t really wish to know the mechanics of that, but...yes. A couple hundred of them.” He grimaces, as if he doesn’t know how to feel about that fact. “They seem nice, I suppose. But the universe itself...”
He turns a bit wistful. “There was this one planet She created... She used to tell me stories that She made up—far away lands with heroes who resembled whichever of Her children She was telling the story to. And the planet is exactly how She used to describe it, right down to the creatures that inhabit it. Mum has a thing for centaurs and unicorns.” His brow furrows, nose crinkling in disgust. “And it is the law of the land that, in travel, one must ride a cow backwards—they call it the...reverse cowgirl.” Lucifer shrugs, grimacing. “She thought it was funny.”
Chloe snorts a laugh. “Wow...”
He shakes his head, amused. “But overall, She has done well for Herself. And She’s agreed to host Dad in Her universe.” Good. At least he succeeded in his goal, and this separation wasn’t entirely for nothing. “She has quite a few ground rules for Him to follow, but it worked out. Oh, and I should warn you, I brought back Azrael’s blade.”
She stiffens. “Azrael’s blade?” she echoes dumbly. “You mean, the blade that can wipe a soul out of existence? Lucifer, why would you bring that here, with our children?”
“It was at Amenadiel’s behest. He was worried about what would happen should Michael get his slimy paws on it, and I was quite in agreement. I’ll hold onto the blade; Amenadiel will keep the key; and the Sword cannot be assembled, let alone lit. He thinks Michael might be preparing for war, if I intend to challenge him for Dad’s job. I would rather have it nearby than wonder if he is intending to find and use it against me.”
Chloe remembers the case with the blade all too well. Of course, at the time, she hadn’t known that it was a soul-destroying blade; only that it was killing people. She had a mass of bodies and a partner who was, as usual, being cagey and weird. And she also remembers jealousy flaring when she noticed Lucifer and Ella spending time together—and her deep denial that it was jealousy.
Now that she knows what the blade is, though, it’s even more terrifying. Especially thinking about it in Michael’s hands.
“You’ll keep it safe?” she asks him seriously.
“You have my word,” he vows solemnly. “It’s merely a precaution, darling. I’ve no intention of ever using it again. One round was more than enough for me.”
“Okay.” Chloe trusts him, more than anybody. “I didn’t say, yet...” She cups his face; he raises a questioning eyebrow. “Welcome home, Lucifer.”
The smile he gives her could light up the universe.
Chloe calls out of work the next day. Lucifer has errands to run, now that he’s home, and she doesn’t intend to let him out of her sight. He wakes her with his tongue between her legs following the best sleep she’s had in months, and gives her the second best orgasm she’s ever had—last night was the first. Feeling him again, renewing their connection that had been lost, was the most amazing sensation. Like coming back to life. She thinks she understands Hell Loops better now, having lived one for two months.
After a round of lazy morning sex, her back to his front, Lucifer cooked her breakfast. It was the first decent meal she has had since he’s been gone; her appetite went along with him. She knows she’s lost weight and that Lucifer noticed, and now, he is going to help her put it back on. He makes homemade croissants stuffed with cheese and butter, fluffy omelets filled with veggies and more cheese (made with truffle oil, of course), pancakes, and bacon.
Lucas is thrilled to see his father, his little face lighting up in recognition as he stretches his arms towards him. Lucifer hugs him closely, pressing kisses to his face and making him giggle. He says that it’s now one of his favorite sounds in the world, right up at the top of the list with hearing Chloe scream his name during sex. Even after everything they’ve done together, just in the past twelve hours, she blushes.
“He’s so big,” Lucifer huffs, laughing wetly. “I’m so sorry, Gremlin. I missed you so much.”
Chloe watches Lucifer with his son, tears in her eyes and her hand over her heart. She knows Lucas missed him; he cried every night before bed until Chloe let him watch the videos she has on her phone of Lucifer singing. And every morning he looks around, searching for his father. This separation has affected so many people...Trixie is going to be thrilled to see him, too.
“He missed you, too, you know.”
Lucifer looks up at her from where he’s balancing Lucas on the breakfast bar. “He did?” he asks hopefully, his eyes brimming with emotion.
She nods. “He knows us, Lucifer. Anytime I played a video of you, or showed pictures of you, he would smile and reach for the phone, like he was trying to get to you.”
It was sweet but heartbreaking, especially when Lucas realized he couldn’t actually touch Lucifer through the screen and cried—she decides not to tell Lucifer that detail.
Lucifer shakes his head. “I still can’t bloody believe the timeflux—it should have been the opposite. Mum has been in Her universe for ten thousand years, give or take; I should have only been gone from here for a matter of seconds—minutes, at most.” He thought it would be the same as time in Hell, where time runs faster than on Earth. Chloe thought the same. How wrong they were... “I just don’t understand how it happened.”
“Maybe Amenadiel will know something? Or your dad? Assuming He’s willing to be cooperative and explain it,” she grumbles irritably.
Lucifer smirks. “What I really can’t believe is that you punched the Almighty, Detective. Do tell me somebody got it on video.”
She gives him a smug, mischievous grin. “Nope, sorry. It felt really good, though.” Everything seems more amusing now that Lucifer is home. Brighter, more full of life. Her world had dimmed with him gone; she doesn’t ever want to go through this again. “We should probably start telling people you’re back.”
He sighs heavily, looking between her and Lucas as if the only thing he desires is to stay here with them. “Very well. If we must...” he sighs.
The look on Amenadiel’s face when he opens the door to find Lucifer, Chloe, and Lucas on the front step is the dictionary definition of stupefied. And worth coming here just to see it. “Luci...you’re back...” he says in astonishment.
“Yes, admirable deduction skills, broth—oof...” Amenadiel moves suddenly, wrapping Lucifer in a tight hug. Lucifer stiffens in shock and discomfort; he doesn’t recall the last time Amenadiel hugged him. “Right... Yes, it’s lovely to see you, too, brother.” He squirms and pats his brother on the back, hoping that will release him. “Do you mind?”
Amenadiel backs off, a hand still on the Devil’s shoulder, and smiles. “We thought...” He glances awkwardly at Chloe, who narrows her eyes at him. “Well, we were worried about you, Luci. What happened? Where have you been?”
Lucifer sighs. “Well, if you would be so kind as to permit us entrance, I shall tell you. Oh, this is yours, by the way. Turns out, I didn’t need it, after all...” He reaches into his jacket pocket for his brother’s necklace. Amenadiel takes it, still in a stunned daze, but steps back to let them inside. “Where’s Dad? The sooner I finish fulfilling this ridiculous deal, the better...”
“He’s with Emily,” Amenadiel answers absently, still staring at Lucifer in disbelief. “Are you okay, Luci?”
“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine, brother,” Lucifer answers impatiently. “Mum says ‘hello’, and sends Her love, et cetera. It’s quite the tale, really.”
They find God sitting on the floor with an eight-month-old fledgling, playing Peek-a-Boo. The Almighty Creator of the Universe... “Lucifer! Welcome home, Son,” He greets them jovially. “I knew you would find your way back.”
“Oh, did You, now?” Lucifer says tightly. “And You couldn’t have told the Detective that to give her a bit of peace of mind? Although, from what I hear, she gave You a piece of hers. How’s Your face?”
God’s lips twitch as though getting punched in the face by His son’s fiancée was amusing. The bastard probably sat back and watched her fret and lose her mind for eight weeks. “How is your mother?” He asks pleasantly.
“Lucifer is fine, by the way,” Chloe says cuttingly, adjusting Lucas on her shoulder. “It was so nice of You to ask.”
“As I said, Chloe, I knew he would be fine.”
Chloe tenses her jaw, and Lucifer suspects that if she didn’t have their son in her arms, she would punch God again. “I asked You for Your help—to find Lucifer, or to at least tell me that he was safe, and all You would tell me is that Your powers don’t work in that universe.”
“I did not wish to give you false hope.”
She scoffs. “I would have taken any hope!” she exclaims, her voice cracking with emotion.
Lucifer places a hand at the small of her back and leans closer, reminding her that he’s here. “Seems we’re all overdue for a chat, hmm?”
“Might I hold My grandson?” God has the nerve to ask.
Chloe glares; Lucifer suspects this isn’t the first time He has asked that question. “Did You know that Lucifer going to the other universe would have this effect on time?” she counters coldly.
Amenadiel steps in between them—also likely not for the first time. “What effect on time, Chloe?”
“For me, it was less than a day,” Lucifer answers, settling in a chair at the dinner table. “Sixteen hours or so. Imagine my surprise when I return home and find out two bloody months have passed in my absence.”
“So, you weren’t stuck in Mom’s universe?” Amenadiel asks. “You had no trouble crossing over?”
“None whatsoever,” Lucifer confirms with a sigh, his eyes finding Lucas. Every time he looks at his son, another stab of guilt hits him in the heart. “I had no idea anything was amiss until I saw the Detective.”
“And how was Mom?” Amenadiel asks eagerly. “Is She all right?”
“Flourishing, as a matter of fact. And preparing for Dad’s arrival—She’s agreed to host Him, but She has a laundry list of rules He must agree to before He steps foot in Her universe.”
God stands nearby, hands folded behind His back. “What are Her terms, Lucifer?”
Lucifer smirks, not missing that this is the first time his father hasn’t stumbled over his name. “To start with: Mum is in charge. It is Her universe, and what She says goes. You are not to interfere with Her creations in any way. There is a corner of the universe where You may reside, and Mum will decide when and if You are permitted to travel elsewhere. She is the only one allowed to give orders to Her children—”
“Her children?” Amenadiel repeats incredulously. “What children?”
“Mum created new angels for Her universe. Our half-siblings, I suppose. There are a couple hundred of them, apparently, but I only met a few.” His brother looks dumbfounded again. “But the point is, they answer only to Her. Those are only the bullet points; Mum has more detailed rules that I shall allow Her to explain. She is at liberty to comprise or amend any rules, at any time. Any noncompliance with Her rules shall result in banishment to Her version of Hell. What little She told me of it...” He grimaces. “Well, let’s just say it makes my Hell look like Disneyland.” He meets his father’s gaze. “Do You accept Her terms?”
Everyone looks at God. He tilts his head to the side, considering. Lucifer half-expects Him to decline, just to be difficult. “I accept,” He says pleasantly. “Thank you, Lucifer, for speaking to Her on My behalf.”
“I didn’t do it for You,” Lucifer says waspishly. “I did it because it was the only way to save Daniel.”
And to get You out of my universe, and away from my family.
“I understand.” The look his father gives him suggests He heard the silent part loud and clear. Lucifer squares his shoulders defiantly. “And I am sorry that you were separated from your family, Lucifer. And they, from you. It is not easy having distance between loved ones.”
Lucifer scoffs. “You would first have to have loved ones to miss them,” he snarks. “And we all know You don’t bloody care.”
“Luci,” Amenadiel warns.
“No, it’s fine, Amenadiel. Speak your mind, Lucifer.”
Lucifer gets to his feet before he realizes he’s standing. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his brother tense, as though he’s expecting to have to get between God and the Devil. “I don’t want anything from You,” Lucifer says evenly, holding his father’s gaze. Then he glances at Chloe and Lucas and reconsiders. “No, actually, there is one thing I desire from You, Dad.”
God tips His chin up slightly. “And what might that be?”
Anxiety explodes in Lucifer’s stomach. The last time he tried this...well. It didn’t go so great, did it? And perhaps now isn’t the best time to bring this up, since he has missed two months of his family’s life already, and he doesn’t want to miss more if his father decides to punish him but...he’s doing this for them—his family.
He takes a step towards his father, squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine. “I want out of your plan,” he says in a low, steady voice.
Behind him, silence reigns, as though everybody has stopped breathing. Right now, it’s not God and the Devil; it’s a son appealing to his father.
“Chloe, Lucas, Trixie, and myself are no longer following Your path. We live our own lives. With our own free will. No more manipulations. No more mysterious ways. Give us our freedom to live, Dad. For once. That is all I ask.”
His father watches him steadily, holding his gaze as though staring into his soul. Lucifer resists a shiver. Suddenly, he isn’t standing in Dr. Linda and Amenadiel’s living room in Los Angeles; he’s transported back to the Silver City, standing in the throne room, looking up at the father he adores (and is terrified of), just a young, woefully naïve angel named Samael.
God, just a ball of divine light so bright it hurts to look at Him directly. He sees and knows all, and stares back impassively as though He is Foreseeing every possible repercussion of whichever answer He is about to give. And the young angel struggles to seem confident in his quest, as if he knows exactly what he is asking for, even though inside, he is quaking with fear that it is all about to fall apart. Again.
The Almighty’s gaze leaves His son’s and slowly travels around the room—first to Amenadiel, who automatically straightens, though at the last second, averts his gaze; then, to Chloe and Lucas, the former’s jaw is tightened, chin tilted in defiance as she cradles her son to her shoulder. And then back to Lucifer, who cocks his head slightly and folds his hands in front of him. Waiting.
“Your life is yours to live as you desire, Lucifer,” God states quietly.
Lucifer has to struggle against his knees buckling. “I...beg your pardon? Just like that?”
God smiles. “Free will has always been yours. You have harnessed it to build your own path, and have found your own family.”
“So, that’s it? No more ineffable plan?” It seems far too good to be true. And there are still so many things they need to know. “You never told us why Chloe was placed in my path, or why she is suddenly an angel.”
And for the first time in his life, Lucifer’s father actually answers a bloody question: “I foresaw that Chloe Decker would become involved with My children, you especially, Lucifer, and that you would come to care greatly for her—which was never the intent. I only wanted you to see that even without your angelic abilities and your charm and favors, you would be loved for who you are, as you are. In every timeline, she was given just an extra spark of divinity. Just enough to make her immune to your powers, to allow her to get to know and see you clearly. Her life experiences and her family shaped her into who she’s become, and her love for you has always been real and free of manipulation.”
Lucifer feels a jolt of relief shoot through him. While it’s been some time since he worried that Chloe’s feelings for him were being controlled by his father, there was always a tiny part of him that couldn’t help wonder. What if...? What if there was more to it than her becoming an angel? What if none of it was real and she didn’t have the freedom to love him? Even if his father had just told him it was all a manipulation and every feeling Chloe has was manufactured or preprogrammed, though, Lucifer couldn’t bear to let her go now. Not after what they’ve been through. Unless it’s her desire to leave or send him away, she’s stuck with him from now until the end of time.
Dad continues, “In those other timelines, the two of you overcame obstacles, and while it was not always easy, you did so together. That is what makes the two of you so formidable—two strong beings, coming together and helping the other become better. The only timelines that had devastating results were the ones in which you either did not meet or did not connect; in the rest, you rose as one to save the world, more than once.
“But Chloe was mortal in all of those timelines, and there came the day that you, Lucifer, had to face the end of her life on the Earthly plane. On the occasions that she rose to the Silver City, and you were still banished, it devastated you; it broke you beyond belief.”
Lucifer frowns. “You say that as if there are other times when she went to Hell, and I would never allow that, no matter what bloody timeline.”
God smiles mysteriously. “There were...extraneous circumstances in those cases. I wanted you to find love, Lucifer, to find acceptance, and a family, and to not lose it. So, in this timeline, I gave Chloe a different, slightly more powerful spark of divinity, so that the two of you will never have to be parted. You are both free to visit any plane of existence you wish to visit, for however long you wish it, but you should only attempt to visit Heaven if you are confident you feel...better about yourself than you have in the past. Otherwise the consequences could be dire. What you do beyond that, is your choice—as I said, you are free to forge your own path, together.”
Partners ‘til the end.
Lucifer’s lips twitch up at Chloe’s prayer. Their eternity is all but assured, confirmed by his father. That alone sends his heart soaring along with knowing what they have is theirs; his father may have hoped they’d find each other, but they still built this life on their own, just as Chloe has said from the moment she learned she’s a Miracle.
Partners ‘til the end, my darling.
He looks at his father. “And what of Michael?” His mind is still whirling about himself in Heaven—and what it means to ‘feel better about himself’. There has never been a time he’s done so more than now; how much bloody better does he need to feel? And what ‘dire consequences’? Amenadiel’s warning from ages ago returns—that if he attempted to return home, he’d flame out of existence before he took one step past the gates.
“Michael will also find his way. As will Amenadiel, and all of your other siblings. I leave My universe in your capable hands. Goodbye, My children.” With that, and no further warning of what’s to come, there is a flash of light—everyone in the room flinches, the children cry out, startled and frightened. When it dims and their eyes have all adjusted, God has vanished.
Notes:
The next chapter of the story will be a deleted scene covering the two months Lucifer was away entirely from Chloe's POV, including punching God in the face. While there's no new plot, there are a few key scenes in it and it's somewhere around 12k, so it's a long one. But it's definitely one of my favorite chapters of this series.
Chapter 24: Eight Weeks
Notes:
This chapter is more of a flashback/deleted scene that covers the two months Lucifer was missing in Goddess's universe. It's somewhere around 12k words and while it's not entirely plot relevant to read this chapter, I hope you will, and I hope you enjoy.
Slight possible trigger warning in this chapter for dream non-con touching. (No Detectives were actually harmed in the making of this chapter.)
Chapter Text
Week One
Get going, Satan. The sooner you go, the sooner you’re back. And if you’re really lucky, I might have a surprise for you when you get home.
She can practically hear his leering smirk. A sexy surprise?
You'll just have to hurry back and see for yourself, won’t you?
Minx. You be safe, as well, darling. And take care of our spawn, hmm? See you soon. I love you, Chloe.
I love you, too. See you soon, Lucifer. She imagines kissing him, just a brush of the lips, and can almost feel his against her own. Or maybe that’s her imagination. Whatever. She likes it either way.
A few minutes later, Chloe shivers, gripping her desk to remain upright even though she’s sitting down. It feels like part of her is being removed, slowly and forcefully pried out of her. There isn’t any pain, just an uneasy feeling that leaves her feeling cold, the way she always did when she was still fully human. And she knows instantly what it means: Lucifer has crossed over into the other universe...and he’s taken his half of their soul-bond with him.
“You okay, there, Decker?” Ella asks as she passes Chloe’s desk, veering towards her instead of back to her lab.
Chloe swallows, mentally searching for any sign of Lucifer, but there’s just...there’s nothing. And she’s felt it before, twice—the first time when Dan shot Lucifer; for several painfully long minutes, he was gone, and she thought he was dead. The other was when the priests kidnapped her when she was pregnant; whatever they gave her to knock her out somehow blocked her celestial abilities. Including the ability to connect and pray to Lucifer. Both times were only brief; she has a really bad feeling that this time is going to be worse.
Clearing her throat, she turns to Ella, forcing a smile. “Yeah, sorry. I, um, got lost in my thoughts,” she invents. “What’s up?”
Ella is looking at her skeptically. “Where’s Lucifer?” she asks suspiciously, looking around the bullpen.
Chloe probably should have thought up something to tell her friends. Both Ella and Dan know the truth of the celestial, but they don’t know God is on Earth, and Chloe doesn’t want to get into a Q&A about Lucifer going to Goddess’s universe. “He had to go on an emergency business trip,” she makes up on the fly. “For Lux.”
“For Lux?” Ella repeats slowly. “For what? A nightclub owners’ convention?”
“Something like that. Did you need something from me, or...?” Chloe tries to change the subject.
“No. I just saw you looking like your soul was being ripped out of your body and wanted to make sure you were okay,” her friend says dubiously.
That’s exactly what it felt like...
“Yeah, I’m okay, really. I was just thinking about Dan,” Chloe lies.
Instantly, Ella’s expression changes from skeptical to worried. “Right, that. How’s he doing, by the way? I haven't had a chance to visit him.”
“Better. He woke up last evening before visiting hours ended, and we got to talk to him a bit before he got tired again,” Chloe answers, relaxing back into the truth. “I’m taking Trix back this evening to see him. She wanted to stay overnight, but...” She half-expected her daughter to try hacking her Uber account—it wouldn’t have been the first time. But Chloe got smarter about her passwords and changed it to something Trixie probably can’t guess—Monkeybottoms1-25-16. And if she does guess it, Chloe will be having another chat about inappropriate conversation with Trixie—again, not for the first time.
“Well, the doctors seemed really optimistic about his recovery,” Ella says bracingly. “And Dan’s a tough dude.”
Chloe smiles. And a little divine intervention certainly didn’t hurt... "Yeah, he is,” she agrees. “Did you get anything back on the tox results from the carnie case?”
“Oh, yeah, that.” Ella rolls her eyes. “Our vic, Vick, had a blood alcohol of point-one-five, which is almost double the legal limit. Not to mention a whole cocktail of illicit substances—pot, heroin, and amphetamines. Dude was flying high, pun intended.”
Chloe rolls her eyes, fighting a smile at the joke—so inappropriate. Lucifer would laugh, though. Her amusement dies instantly. He’s only been gone a few minutes, but she misses him already, as irrational as it might be. And that doesn’t bode well for the rest of the day. So, she does what she usually does when she desperately needs a distraction: She buries herself in work.
“Anything else you can tell me about our victim?”
When it’s time to pick up Trixie from school, there is still no word from Lucifer. She had futilely believed that this trip would be like when he went back to Hell to retrieve a Hellhound puppy—he was only away for about six minutes. For her, anyway; for him, it was two weeks. But maybe time in another universe works the same as it does here. And Lucifer is the most distractible person she knows; if he sees something shiny, he goes straight for it, regardless of the importance of whatever he’s supposed to be doing. Chloe can only imagine all of the ‘shiny objects’ he might find in a brand-new universe.
The coldness that came with his departure remains, and though it isn’t environmental, she’s kept her leather jacket on all day, hoping it might help. It doesn’t. She hadn’t realized this would happen, that they would be this separated when Lucifer left. She tried praying to him earlier and it felt like she was hearing static at the other end.
He’ll be back. He’ll come swaggering in during dinner when I have food in my mouth, probably, and give me that stupid, charming smirk of his, and everything will be fine, she tells herself, ignoring the heavy feeling in her gut as she anxiously twists her engagement ring around her finger.
“Hi, Mom!”
A genuine smile grows on her lips at the sound of her daughter’s voice. At least she’ll have Trixie and Lucas to distract her this evening. A pang hits her in the heart at the thought of leaving her baby boy at home all day, and suddenly, she just wants to get back to Lux, have dinner with her babies, and curl up in front of the TV with them until Lucifer comes home.
As she promised Trixie, Chloe takes her daughter to visit Dan in the hospital. He’s in much better spirits today than yesterday, though that might have something to do with the pain meds he’s on. Trixie spends the entire visit talking while Dan just stares at her like she’s the most fascinating thing in the world; he isn’t wrong.
Chloe tries to focus on the conversation, but her thoughts keep drifting towards Lucifer—wondering what he’s doing; if he’s okay; what he’s seeing; how things are going with his mom...when he’ll be home. Dan seems to notice that she’s distracted, but he doesn’t say anything to her about it. Just gives her a raised eyebrow and a mouthed ‘you okay?’ Chloe gives him a forced smile that placates him and he turns back to Trixie until it’s time to head out at the end of visitation hours.
The rest of the evening flies by. Between helping Trixie with homework and tending to a two-month-old, Chloe barely has a moment to breathe, let alone miss Lucifer for more than a second. The only time it really hits her that something is missing is when Trixie asks where he went.
“He went to visit his mom,” Chloe says carefully. She promised not to keep things from Trixie anymore, or lie to her if she can help it. “But he’s supposed to be back soon.”
Trixie’s eyebrows furrow, looking up from her coloring. They’re sitting in the living room, watching a movie. Lucas is in Chloe’s arms, playing with her hair like it’s the most amazing thing ever. Chloe winces when he yanks just a bit too hard. “But I thought his mom and dad weren’t very nice.”
Chloe fights an eyeroll at that understatement. “They aren’t, really, but Lucifer needs to go ask Her something, and he’s the only person who can do it.”
Apparently...
“Oh,” Trixie says, easily accepting the answer. “Well, don’t worry about Lucifer. He’s the Devil and the best angel of them all; he can take care of himself.”
And here, Chloe thought she’d been hiding it so well... “You are absolutely right, Monkey, he is. Now, tell me what you’re drawing.”
Trixie has been tucked into bed, and now, it’s Lucas’s turn. Even at two months old, he’s gotten accustomed to his bedtime ritual—nursing, diaper change, Chloe saying good night first, then it’s Lucifer’s turn. And Lucifer always sings him to sleep. Even in the womb, Lucas seemed to enjoy the sound of his father’s voice when Lucifer would sing to Chloe’s belly. No matter how active he was, Lucas would settle to listen to the performance, and the moment it ended, he’d start kicking, as if protesting and demanding more. It was like Mexican jumping beans in Chloe’s belly; such a weird feeling, but it amazed Lucifer, who could hardly believe he’d inspired such a reaction in an unborn baby, let alone his unborn baby.
Chloe usually stays to listen to the nighttime lullaby, not necessarily for the song (though Lucifer’s singing is always worth sticking around for), but for the soft look on the Devil’s face as he stares down at his son—adoring and devoted, completely besotted. It’s a beautiful scene to witness.
But tonight, it’s only Chloe completing Lucas’s bedtime ritual, and Lucas is immediately aware that something is missing. When Chloe places him straight into his crib rather than his father’s arms, he starts crying before she can even sneak out of the room.
“Oh, Duckling, it’s okay. Daddy will be back tomorrow night.”
I hope.
“I’d sing to you myself, but last time you just screamed and spit-up on me...”
It takes nearly an hour for Lucas to settle. Normally, he’s such an easy, calm baby, except when he had that ear infection, and it tears at Chloe’s heart to know he just doesn’t understand. All he knows is that something vital is missing from his life suddenly.
Finally, Lucas cries himself to sleep—it doesn’t hurt that Chloe flipped on the ceiling projection of the galaxy, Lucas loves that. Chloe gently sets him in his crib and sneaks out of the room, wincing in preparation for another round of crying...but it doesn’t come. Silently sighing in relief, she pulls the door shut and heads back into the main room.
It’s immediately apparent, with the kids asleep, that Lucifer is gone. It’s far too quiet in here. Normally, he would be at the bar making them drinks to take out on the balcony, or at the piano playing some soft melody with the damper pedal pressed down. Now, it’s just the ticking of the grandfather clock to keep her company. She glances at it. He hasn’t even been gone twelve hours and it feels too long.
Codependent much? her mind whispers scathingly. What, Lucifer’s gone, so now you can’t function?
Well, that’s a little harsh. And it isn’t that she can’t function. She’s just...worried. They know nothing about Goddess’s universe or what Lucifer should expect upon arrival. They don’t know if he can get back—though Chloe reasons that if he can get there, he can return home. And it’s that she and Lucifer haven’t spent this long apart since she was abducted by Cain last year, back when their romantic relationship was brand-new. Not to mention, she didn’t realize just how connected she and Lucifer had become—how intertwined. And it feels like he literally took part of her with her when he left.
He’ll be back, she tells herself firmly, settling out on the balcony in one of the cushy armchairs.
He always comes back.
Any minute now...
Week Two
A week later, Lucifer isn’t back. Chloe hasn’t slept a wink. Every time she forces her eyes closed, she hears some sound and she’s out of bed like a shot, only to find it was either her imagination or normal household noises. She is trying not to panic about something going terribly wrong, but it isn’t working. Hence why she’s walking up to Linda and Amenadiel’s townhouse rather than working her case, which is what she is supposed to be doing right now.
“Chloe,” Amenadiel says, bemused and cheerful.
Chloe isn’t on the best terms with Lucifer’s brother, after putting him in his place more than once about how he’s treated the Devil, but she isn't here to see him. “Hey,” she says, smiling politely. “Is your dad here?”
Amenadiel blinks in surprise. “Yes, of course. Is everything all right?”
“Lucifer isn’t back from your mom’s universe,” she explains. “It’s been a week, Amenadiel, for something that shouldn’t have taken nearly this long.”
He looks at her almost pityingly. She pretends she doesn’t want to punch him. “Lucifer can take care of himself, Chloe,” he says, his tone bordering on dismissive. Patronizing, even. “And Mom can be...difficult sometimes. It’s probably taken him this long just to stop Her ranting about Dad, let alone convincing Her to let Him come stay.”
She grits her teeth. “Look, can I just speak with your dad for a few minutes, then I’ll get out of your...here.” She manages to correct herself before saying hair, her eyes drifting to Amenadiel’s bald head. In her mind, Lucifer is grinning mischievously at her, encouraging her to say it, anyway, Detective; she ignores him. “I’m supposed to be working, anyway, so I can’t stay long.”
Her comment flies right over Amenadiel’s (bald) head and he smiles kindly. “Of course, Chloe. Please, come in. Can I get you anything to drink?”
She shakes her head. She’s here for one reason, and one reason only, and she is determined to get answers. “No, thanks. How’s Emily?” she asks as the angel steps back to allow her to enter. Might as well be polite while she’s here.
“She’s amazing,” Amenadiel gushes. “Six months old and already crawling—Linda says full-human children don’t do that for several more months.” His chest swells with pride.
Chloe’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “She’s right; Trixie started to crawl around eight months—well, it was more of a scoot, but it was adorable.”
“We think angel babies may develop motor skills a bit quicker,” Amenadiel says, closing the door and leading Chloe farther into the house. “Angels develop skills immediately after their creation, though emotional development and personality take some time to form.”
Under different circumstances, this would be a fascinating conversation, as Chloe has several theories on why angels never really developed emotionally—starting with their parents. But she’s a woman on a mission today, so she just hums in acknowledgement of Amenadiel’s words, looking around for one of those parents. God Almighty is in the kitchen, wearing a novelty apron that Lucifer would curl his lip at if he were here that says The GrillFather. He smiles when He spots Chloe.
“Chloe, it’s nice to see you.” He doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by her presence. “What can I do for you?”
She doesn’t waste time with chitchat. “Is Lucifer okay? He’s been gone for a week, and he didn’t think it would take him this long, and I’m starting to get worried.” Another understatement. “And I don’t want to hear that he can take care of himself.” She shoots Amenadiel a glare. “I know he can take care of himself. But he doesn’t have to; he has me to help look after him. So, please, can You just tell me whether or not he’s okay?”
There’s a look of pride in God’s eyes that makes Chloe want to roll her eyes, but she refrains. He closes His eyes for a moment, and there is the faintest furrow in His eyebrows that Chloe only notices because she is watching Him so closely for any reaction. “I’m afraid My omniscience doesn’t work in My wife's universe. I cannot see anything past the point where Lucifer crossed over.” And while Chloe doesn’t know Him very well, she gets the unsettling feeling that He’s worried about that fact. Or at the very least, worried the there's something He can't see and doesn't know.
“I thought You could see all, Father,” Amenadiel says, bemused. “Well, except in Hell.”
Okay, that is news to Chloe. God can't see in Hell? Does that mean that all the time Lucifer spent screaming and suffering down there was unseen by his father, who supposedly sees and knows all? And He still didn’t bother checking up on His so-called favorite son?
“I have no powers in your mother’s universe,” He says, still with that pleasant tone that, in Chloe’s worry for her partner, is starting to grate on her. “Once She relocated there, I could no longer sense Her.”
And doesn’t that just curdle Chloe’s stomach. It sounds exactly like what she feels now that Lucifer is in the other universe, unable to feel their bond or him. And the longer it drags on, the worse she feels. Cold, empty, like she’s lost something vital—which she has.
“Okay, but there must be something that You can do,” she insists, trying not to sound like she’s begging. “Lucifer said one of his siblings could travel between universes, but You’re telling me You can’t?”
God (or Dennis, as He likes to be called) just gives her a benign smile that makes her anger at Him burn hotter. “That is what I am telling you, Chloe, yes.”
“What if something happened to him?” she exclaims a bit too loudly. “He could be dead for all we know, and You act like You don’t care!” A cold feeling, worse than the one she’s been feeling, creeps up her spine as a thought suddenly occurs to her. “Did—did You know this would happen? Did You do this on purpose? Send him to some foreign universe where nobody could contact him or bring him back, so he’s trapped there?”
“Now, Chloe...” Amenadiel starts, but Chloe ignores him. Because God is only giving her a faintly confused look, tilting His head to the side in a way that strongly reminds her of Lucifer—his adorable, confused puppy look. It isn’t nearly as adorable on his father’s face.
Suddenly, the lack of sleep is catching up to her. All the anger and loathing she’s felt for Lucifer’s father since the first time she saw her partner's wing scars overflows. “It wasn’t bad enough that You trapped him in Hell for billions of years, cut off from everything he knew and loved, just because You wanted to set an example for Your other children and prevent something that might happen... He has finally found somewhere he belongs, a family who loves him unconditionally, and You want to take that from him, too? Why? Because he hasn’t suffered enough? He’s doing You a favor by mediating in Your marriage troubles with Your wife, and You can’t even be bothered to check on his progress! I’ve already made my feelings clear about Your parenting skills, but this is just... How can You not care?”
“Chloe, it’s only been a week...” Amenadiel tries again.
She turns around and pins the eldest angel with a death glare. “Oh, I already know you don’t care, Amenadiel.” She turns back to God, who’s simply watching her like she’s a mildly interesting television show. “He is Your son. And I get that You created Your children to fulfill some grand divine purpose for the creation of the universe, but there has to be something that You feel for them! All I am asking is for You to check on Lucifer, to let me know he’s still alive, at least.”
Maybe she’s imagining it, or it’s wishful thinking, but for a moment, she thinks she sees a brief flicker of what might be remorse on the Almighty’s face. “I cannot do as you have asked, Chloe.”
Lucifer once told her the story of his ‘rebellion’, and how his father responded with a statement damn close to the one He just used with her. And suddenly, white hot blind rage takes over; the next thing she knows, she’s closing the distance between them, her fingers balling into a fist, pulling back her arm, and connecting that fist with God’s cheek. While His face is unyielding, He seems to anticipate the move and turns His head with her punch—at least she didn’t break her hand on a brick wall of divinity...
The next thing she’s fully aware of is a pair of strong arms wrapping around her upper body, pinning her arms to her sides, and somebody dragging her away from God. “Chloe, calm down,” Amenadiel is urgently hissing into her ear, and she can almost feel the worry wafting off of him.
She realizes abruptly what she’s just done: She punched God in the face. God....the divine being, Creator of the universe, who is powerful enough to snap His fingers and wipe her from existence for daring to raise her voice at Him, and she struck Him. Fear erupts in her that she isn’t going to see her children again, and that it won’t matter if Lucifer can get back home, because she won’t be here to greet him. And she briefly imagines his agonizing grief and fury when he realizes what happened. He’d start a celestial war to get revenge against his father for smiting the love of his life, which would only get him smited, too.
Clamping down on her increasingly rampant thoughts, she forces herself to meet God’s gaze, expecting to see wrath in His eyes, fury, anger, something. She blinks in surprise when all she sees is that annoying, benign smile on His face, just as before. And her anger returns.
“Let go of me, Amenadiel,” she hisses through her clenched jaw, struggling against his vise-like. Her wings are struggling to free themselves, as if they want a piece of God, too.
“No. Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
“Yes, I punched an asshole in the face,” she snaps, glaring at God.
He folds His hands in front of Him. “It’s all right, Amenadiel, I will not harm her for venting her frustration.”
“Frustration?” she repeats with a short, slightly manic laugh. “You really don’t care, do You?”
He tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. “Of course I do. I care about Lucifer as I care for all of My children.” Chloe scoffs; that says a lot. “But I cannot do as you have asked, Chloe, I am sorry.”
She deflates instantly. That is the first time He has said those words, possibly ever, and she looks more intently at Him, and that is when she sees it: He’s worried. He expected Lucifer to be back before now, too, and he isn’t, and God is worried about him. And suddenly, her own worry quadruples. Because what does it mean for Lucifer if God, who (supposedly) sees and knows all, is actually showing concern for the first time in His entire existence?
“Please,” she murmurs, tears filling her eyes. “Please, help me find him. Something is wrong and I know You sense that, at least. We need him here—his son needs him. And I can’t lose him.”
There’s something that almost looks like sympathy in His eyes. “I’m sorry, Chloe,” He says quietly.
She forces herself out of Amenadiel’s hold and swipes at her eyes, annoyed at herself for thinking anybody but she actually cares about the Devil’s well-being. “Then what good are You?” she hisses, quiet fury making her voice tremble. Without another word, she stomps out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The only guilt she feels is when she hears Emily’s muffled cries of startlement. “Sorry, kiddo,” she mutters under her breath on the way to her car.
With the door closed, she lets her head fall to the steering wheel, hopelessness and grief filling her, and lets herself cry for a couple of minutes. It’s all she can afford right now; if she sinks too far into it, she’ll undoubtedly lose herself.
It would be different if they expected Lucifer to be gone for a while, or if there was an explanation as to why he is taking so long, but she has nothing. And nobody seems at all interested in fixing it.
And the nightmares Chloe started having the other night don’t help matters in the slightest. In one of them, she was searching all over for Lucifer, every one of his haunts or anyplace she thought he might go, and she found him...but he was dead. Wide, pale, faded brown eyes staring up unseeingly at the sky, his body shredded and torn, and covered in blood; his face contorted with fear and pain. She’d awoken with a sharp, strangled shout in her throat, crying and shaking with nobody beside her to soothe her. There have been others where she watches him die, unable to help or save him, and it’s pure torture—both for dream-Chloe and the real one.
She meant what she told God: She can’t lose Lucifer. He’s her best friend, her partner, and the father of her youngest child. He’s the person she turns to when she’s feeling her lowest, and the one she wants to share her joys with. And she’s gotten so accustomed to having him right here beside her over the last few years that being without him...it just hurts...
When she starts to get the feeling of being watched, she glances up at the house, finding God at the window, hands behind His back. There is no smile on His face, but His eyebrows are furrowed again. Narrowing her eyes into a contemptuous glare, Chloe quickly starts the car, and leaves. She is so done with Him.
Week Three
“Hey, Chlo.”
Chloe looks up from where she’s been staring at her computer screen for who knows how long to find Dan standing at her desk, a frown on his lips as he studies her. Inwardly, she sighs, because she knows her friends are worried about her and she doesn’t know what to tell them anymore. Her excuse about Lucifer going out of town on Lux business fizzled out a week and a half ago—probably before that, really—and now, she's too tired and miserable to bother with any more lies.
It’s Dan’s first day back since being shot then divinely healed and while she is happy about that—of course she is—she just can’t muster the energy to keep a smile on her face. She’s barely sleeping between being unable to shut off her brain and the nightmares, and all the rest of her energy has gone into taking care of Trixie and Lucas, and casework—when she’s able to focus, at least.
The nightmares are getting worse. Last night, she dreamed of Lucifer chained in some sort of dungeon, broken and bleeding, and screaming for help. Screaming for her. Thankfully, Teivel woke her up before it could get any worse, but she spent the rest of the night on the loveseat in Lucas’s nursery. The night before that, it was Trixie’s bed—to say her daughter was surprised to find her there in the morning is an understatement.
She had to tell Trixie the truth about where Lucifer is—that he went on a mission for his father to speak with his mother in another universe. And Chloe doesn’t know when he’s coming back or why it’s taking him so long. She left out the I don’t know if he can come back, but she suspects Trixie still heard it loud and clear. Her daughter just hugged her and told her that of course he’ll come back, because he always comes back. While Chloe is trying to retain some of Trixie’s optimism, it hasn’t been easy. And though her kids are the best distraction there is, she still can’t seem to stop herself from glancing hopefully at the balcony windows every couple minutes.
“Hey, Dan,” she says tiredly, rubbing her eyes. She’s fully aware of the rumors going around the precinct regarding Lucifer’s sudden, prolonged absence—most of them centering around he just got sick of Decker in some way or another. At first, she firmly shut them down; now, she just ignores them.
Or tries to. Her mind has picked up on the rumors and ran with them. Every so often, she’ll be thinking about Lucifer and why he’s gone, and a voice in the back of her mind hisses, “He left you, because you weren’t good enough. He got tired of the domestic life and raising kids, one of whom isn’t even his own, and ran—like he always does. You’re too boring. You’re not worthy...” Most of the time, she’s able to counter the voice with “Lucifer would never do that to me. And he would never leave his son; he would never be like his own father”. Other times, usually in the dead of night when she’s too tired to fight it, the voice wins and she ends up curled around Lucifer’s pillow, crying into it to muffle the noise.
And she knows the look in Dan’s eyes right now. He’s asked about Lucifer more than once in the last three weeks and Chloe has deflected or flat out lied about where her partner is, but he isn’t going to let it slide much longer without answers.
“Can we talk? In private.”
Apparently, he’s done sliding.
Suppressing a sigh, Chloe follows her ex-husband into one of the interrogation rooms—fitting—and leans against a table. Dan leans against the wall, a tiny wince on his face from his still healing injury, and crosses his arms.
“What’s up?” she asks, trying to sound like herself.
He raises an eyebrow. “Where’s Lucifer, Chloe?” he asks bluntly.
This time, she doesn’t fight the sigh, slumping a bit. “Dan...”
“No. No deflections, no lies, no changing the subject like you’ve been doing. What happened, Chlo?” He hesitates for a fraction of a second. “Did he...leave you?”
The hissing voice is back. “You’re not good enough...”
Shaking her head to both negate the voice and Dan, she squares her shoulders, narrowing her eyes in a glare. Apparently, she still has enough energy for anger. “No, Dan, he did not leave me.”
“Then where is he? You got two kids at home, one of which is an infant, and suddenly, Lucifer decides now is a good time to go on vacation without you? And I know he isn’t at some bullshit nightclub convention like Ella said you told her.”
Chloe sighs, too exhausted to make up excuses. “He is away on business, but it isn’t nightclub business,” she tells him quietly, crossing her arms to warm herself up. But the cold is internal, so it doesn’t do her any good. “It’s celestial business.”
“Celestial business,” Dan echoes slowly, furrowing his brow. His eyes widen and he pales slightly. “Did he... He didn’t go back to...Hell?”
“No,” she says quickly. “No, he...went to another universe. To talk to his mother.”
“The Devil has a mother?” he asks incredulously.
Chloe rolls her eyes. “Yes, Dan, the Devil has a mother. It’s a really long story that I don’t want to get into, but Lucifer sent Her to live in an empty universe a while back. And now somebody needs him to go talk to Her, because apparently, he’s the only one capable of doing it. He was supposed to be back weeks ago; it was only supposed to be a short trip, but now...” She trails off when the burning in her eyes starts and her throat gets tight.
“I don’t know where he is,” she whispers brokenly. “I don’t even know if he’s okay or when he’s coming back, or even if he can come back...I know nothing.”
Sympathy (or maybe it’s pity) appears on Dan’s face. “Oh, Chloe, come here...” He pulls her into a hug, and though it’s comforting to have strong arms around her...well, they aren’t the strong arms that she wants. The embrace doesn’t feel right. Or smell right. None of this is right.
Nevertheless, she finds herself crying on her ex’s shoulder for several minutes while he rubs soothing circles on her back. He doesn’t try to shush her or mutter platitudes; he just lets her cry. And maybe she did need this; when she pulls away, she feels a little better than she did. Wiping at her eyes and sniffling, she leans on the table again.
“I’m sorry, I...”
Dan shakes his head. “No, it’s fine.” He looks a bit awkward, like he always does when she’s upset, because he never seems to know what to do with it. “Is there anything I can do? Maybe I can take Trixie a bit more, that way you’ve only got Lucas to worry about? Less stress on your shoulders...”
Guilt stabs at her when her immediate response is yes; she hates the idea of pawning her kids off on anybody, even if it’s one of the kid’s fathers. She should be stronger than this; she should be able to take care of her own children. She shouldn’t be breaking down half a dozen times a day because she misses her boyfriend. Everywhere she looks, she’s failing somebody.
This morning, Trixie requested pancakes, because it’s Friday and Lucifer always makes pancakes on Friday mornings. Except, the pancakes were lumpy and a little underdone, and though Trixie didn’t comment on them, Chloe could see the slight grimace on her face as she ate.
Lucas cries himself to sleep every night. Even after she found some videos on her phone of Lucifer singing and playing piano at Lux—which did help But the almost three-month-old saw his father’s face and reached towards the phone, like he was trying to reach into it, and when he couldn’t... Chloe wasn’t able to settle him for nearly an hour, no matter what she did.
The Lieutenant has been eyeing her as her solve rate has begun to drop. Co-workers whisper and stare. Her friends are worried about her.
This is what she gets for being the rock for everybody. The person everyone leans on during times of hardship. Now, they expect it constantly, and when she can’t deliver, they look at her with pity. She even overheard one of her fellow detectives whispering to another about how it was Lucifer carrying her cases all this time, and now that he’s gone, she can’t hold up his end of the workload. Which is exactly the sort of misogynistic bullshit she’s come to expect from many of her colleagues.
“Yeah,” she answers Dan’s question. “Yeah, um, that would be helpful, actually. I mean, as long as Trixie is okay with it, of course.”
Dan nods. “I’ll shoot her a text around lunchtime, then if she okay’s it, I’ll pick her up from school. Is there anything else you need? Help with your cases?” He’s trying.
“No, I’m okay.”
The hissing voice scoffs, “Well, that’s a damn lie...” Dan doesn’t seem to believe it, either.
“I’ll be okay. I’m just worried.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. I’ll, uh, let you get back to work, then...”
Ella is next to corner her later that very same day, clearly tired of being out of the loop. This time when Chloe explains what’s happening, she doesn’t break down, thankfully, but of course, Ella hugs her, anyway. Because...Ella.
“Why don’t I come over this weekend and hang out with you and Lucas? I could use some baby Deckerstar time,” the younger woman suggests. “We can watch movies or—oh! Have you ever seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”
Trixie does end up agreeing to stay with Dan more often for the time being, but not without calling and making sure Chloe will be okay without her. It simultaneously warms her heart and makes it ache that her now eleven-year-old is so empathetic and caring. But she shouldn’t be worried about taking care of her parents. She’s the kid; she should be the one being taken care of.
And Chloe is failing her.
“I’ll be fine, Monkey, I promise. I have Lucas and Teivel to keep me company. But you have fun with your dad and Charlotte. Don’t worry about me. Okay?”
There’s a sigh on the other end that shouldn’t come from a girl her age. “Okay. But promise you’ll call if you need me?”
Chloe bites her lip to keep from crying again. “I promise, Trix. I love you, sweetie. Be good, okay?”
That night, with just herself, a three-month-old baby angel, and a Hellhound in the penthouse, Chloe doesn’t sleep a wink. She keeps hearing what sounds like rustling angel wings on the balcony. Or the chime of the elevator. Or, worse than all that, Lucifer’s voice whispering, “I’m home, Detective. Wakey-wakey...” And when she opens her eyes to find herself alone, she can’t stop the tears.
Teivel whines and stands up. The hound, as large as a Great Dane, stretches and yawns, then moves from his usual spot at the end of the bed to curl up next to Chloe. Normally, he sleeps in Lucas’s room, but since her nightmares started, he wanders into her and Lucifer’s bed when she turns in for the night.
She gives him a weak, watery smile and runs her fingers through his thick, fluffy fur. It’s soothing. He turns his head and gives her a sad look that she interprets as I miss him, too, and she sighs, dropping her head onto the pillow and staring at the ceiling. Her reflection is pale and small in the too big bed—it feels even bigger without Lucifer’s large frame to help fill it up.
Although she knows that it won’t do any good, she tries praying for what feels like the millionth time since he left.
Lucifer. If you can hear me, please, just let me know you’re okay. Just one word?
She sighs at the now familiar feeling of her prayer bouncing off of a brick wall and static. We miss you. So much. We love you. And we need you. Please, come home.
There’s nothing. No response. No warmth from their soul-bond. Just...emptiness.
Closing her eyes, her chest hitches with a sob. She turns and buries her face in Teivel’s fur, unfurls her wings to wrap around them, and cries.
Week Four
It’s been a month since Lucifer left.
A month of no word, no way to reach him. No idea whether he’s ever coming back.
Chloe found out from God—through Linda, because she can’t face the Almighty without punching Him again—precisely where Lucifer crossed over to his mother’s universe. She asked Amelia to come over on a Saturday to watch Lucas so that she could fly out to the desert and look for clues. Quite frankly, she’s kicking herself for not thinking of doing this sooner. She’s a realist, though; she isn’t actually expecting to find anything. Four weeks have passed, so any trace of Lucifer will have blown away in the sand.
But she’s her—the Detective—so she has to check for herself, anyway. She has to know with absolute certainty that there isn’t anything to find. Some small part of her was half-expecting to find him there, crumpled up on the ground, injured or worse. She doesn’t know which outcome she wants—to find him but have him not be okay...or to not find him at all.
Another small part of her, that’s growing larger everyday, has started to seriously consider that he can’t come home—not because he’s trapped in the other universe, but because he died some horrible death. That part of her is saying that it would be closure even just to find his body, while the rest of her is screaming in agony at the mere thought. She wouldn’t recover from that. Not ever. Which is why she can’t give up hope now that he is alive and fighting to get back to her, one way or another.
Out in the desert, thankfully, it isn’t painfully hot, yet, but it’s bright and devoid of anything that isn’t sand or cacti and other desert plant life. The spot where Lucifer crossed over is just sand, no sign of anything. When she starts walking around, she hears what sounds like glass crunching under her shoes, like everything in a fifty-foot radius has been blasted away. By the Lightbringer’s light, perhaps?
Her sharp eyes scan the desert floor for anything that might have remained, some sign that he really was here at some point. Of course, there are no footprints or forensic evidence. But she spends an hour searching, anyway, knowing there’s likely no point. Just as she’s about to give up and unfurl her wings to go home, something in the sand glints in the sunlight, catching her eye.
Frowning, she follows the shiny object until she’s kneeling in front of it, automatically reaching for a pair of nitrile gloves in her back pocket. Rolling her eyes at herself and reminding her this isn’t a crime scene, she digs with her fingers until she picks up the object—
She gasps and her heart stutters to a halt. As she stares at the diamond cufflink that she would know anywhere, she wonders why it’s here. Lucifer is compulsive about his appearance; he never would have left if he was aware he’d dropped a cufflink. If anything, he’d have flown back home for a new, matching pair.
A hundred questions burst into her mind all at once, but all she can do is stare at the diamond cufflink. Then she turns it over and sees the stylized engraving: LM. Swallowing a sob, she fists the cufflink in her hand and brings it to her lips, imagining the wrist it would usually be pressed against.
He was definitely here. And while she has no idea why or how he lost his cufflink, at least she has proof of that much.
“Where are you, Lucifer?” she whispers, looking around the desert.
Week Five
“Chloe, I know you’re worried about him. I am, too, but...I don’t know that there’s anything I can do.”
Pinching the skin between her eyebrows, she tries not to lose her patience with Amenadiel. Her temper has been frayed for weeks due to a combination of not sleeping, constant stress, worry and fear, nightmares, and just a general lack of Luciferness in her life.
There was a time, very early in their partnership, when she would have done just about anything to get rid of the annoying, insufferable nightclub owner who called himself the Devil and wouldn’t stop following her around like a puppy. She was tired of his constant sexual advances—and in deep denial about them being tempting—tired of his recklessness, just tired of him.
But at the same time, he was the only person willing to work with her. And she did like how he seemed to believe in her capabilities, how he trusted her instincts rather than constantly telling her she’s wrong or questioning her. She liked how funny he was, even if she had to pretend to be annoyed because...“Inappropriate, Lucifer”. And he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.
As frustrating as he could be, at least he was showing up. Not to mention, he was surprisingly capable when it came to investigating. Some of his theories could be outlandish, but he saw things in a way she didn’t, a new perspective, and that was incredibly useful. Her solve rate was improving, much to the confusion and annoyance of her colleagues who still referred to her as the ‘Palmetto Bitch’.
And if she was being completely honest with herself, something she didn’t do often in those days, especially when it came to Lucifer Morningstar...she liked him. As a partner, of course, nothing more. Definitely not. And she liked working with him. Nevertheless, she waited for the day when he would decide he was bored with playing detective and move on; just like everyone else in her life. And she’d have to pretend it didn’t hurt when that day came.
Now, he’s gone. And all she wants is to get him back. She’s gotten desperate enough to call Amenadiel and ask him to come over to the penthouse—because no way was she going to him—to ask him to fly up to the Silver City.
“Lucifer told me about your sister, Gabriel,” she says, leaning forward, elbow on her knee. Her free hand is rocking Lucas in his car seat—they only just got home from the grocery store when Amenadiel arrived and since the baby is asleep, she decided to leave him be. “He said that she can deliver a message anywhere, including other universes...” She raises her eyebrows pointedly, wondering if she’s being too subtle.
Amenadiel sighs. “That is true,” he says carefully. “But, Chloe, none of our siblings are going to be willing to help, especially if it’s for Lucifer.”
She bites back her frustration. “Look, I know she’s close with Michael. All I’m asking is for you to ask her. I need to cover all the bases, Amenadiel. I need to know that I’ve done everything I can to get him back home. Please. We need him.” She hates that her voice cracks as her eyes travel to her son. “I need him...”
Last night, she dreamed of him again. It happens every time she closes her eyes and tries to sleep now. This time, she was a witness to what Lucifer was doing in the other universe. He was in some nightclub that resembled Lux, surrounded by beautiful, half-dressed men and women. The women were hanging off of him, touching and kissing him, sucking on his neck. And he was having the time of his life, dancing and laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world. At the end, he turned to look at her with arms spread wide and a huge grin and said, “I’m finally free, Detective! Of you and the spawn I never wanted! You never had a hope in holding onto the Devil!” She awoke, tears streaming down her face and her heart breaking yet again.
She doesn’t know how much more of this she can take.
Amenadiel heaves a sigh, looking at his nephew and smiling sadly. “He’s just how I’d imagine Lucifer would have looked if we’d ever been that age,” he says softly.
Chloe nods, following his gaze. “Yeah. Me, too.” She’s trying not to feel too disappointed at the deflection. After all, she honestly hadn’t expected Amenadiel, of all people, to actually—
“I’ll speak to Gabriel.”
Her head shoots up. “You will?”
He nods. “Yes. But, Chloe, please, don’t get your hopes up. Chances are, nobody will help,” he warns her.
She knows that. And it doesn’t matter; she needs to cover all the bases, as she told him before. If there is even the slightest chance that one of Lucifer’s siblings would be willing to help get him home, she has to take it. “I understand,” she says softly.
Amenadiel stands, heading for the balcony. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be; time in the Silver City is difficult to measure.”
Chloe’s heart leaps. He’s going now? “Yeah, Lucifer said it probably would be similar to Hell...”
She watches as Amenadiel unfurls his gunmetal grey wings, gives her one last smile, and flies away. Covering her eyes with her hand, she tries to follow his progress, but he just vanished from sight, the way she’s seen Lucifer do a few times. And the way she did when Remiel chucked a spear at her—from one side of the penthouse to the other, without conscious thought.
Heading back inside, Chloe slumps down next to her sleeping son and just watches him. Yawning, she leans her head back on the couch, closing her eyes just for a minute because she is exhausted. Before she knows it, she’s drifting to sleep.
“Chloe... Wake up, love...”
Her eyes snap open immediately, heart in her throat, and though she tries not to get her hopes up... She looks around and her heart stops beating at the sight of Lucifer kneeling beside the couch, smiling lovingly at her.
“You’re home...” she breathes in shocked amazement.
His smile widens and he nods.
She throws herself into his arms, hugging him around the neck and vowing to never let him go again. After a moment, he wraps his arms around her, too. Burying her face into his neck, she sobs, so grateful, so happy to finally have him back. “I missed you so much,” she whispers fiercely through her tears.
One of his hands sinks into her hair while the other tightens around her waist. “I love you, Chloe,” he whispers into her hair.
Chloe laughs in joyful, sweet relief. “I love you, too.” Pulling back to look at his precious, handsome face, he looks just as happy to be home as she is to have him. She dives in to kiss him feverishly, moaning at the taste of him. He hums happily against her lips, standing with her in his arms.
He carries her to the piano, setting her atop it, pushing her legs apart so he can step into the V. Immediately, she locks her legs around him, pulling him closer. His hands slide over her body like he’s memorizing her, just as she’s doing to him. He feels exactly as she remembers—firm, toned, perfect. And most importantly, hers.
“I want you,” he groans into her neck, sucking a bloom there. “I need you.”
“Yes,” she gasps when he nips at her skin. “Need you, too. Please, Lucifer.”
Lucifer pulls back, smiling at her.
Except...something isn’t right. The smile is frozen...and a little off, somehow. She looks into his eyes and her heart stops again. They aren’t sparkling or darkening with lust; they’re just...black. There is no iris in either eye. The smile turns downright evil and cruel.
“Who are you?” she whispers, horrified.
“I’m Lucifer,” the impostor says...in a flat, American drawl. “Your Devil.”
“No. You’re not.” Her eyebrows furrow. “Michael?”
The evil smile widens. “Well, you are clever, aren’t you, Detective?”
Chloe tries to scurry backwards across the piano, but Michael grabs her, pulling her roughly against him. She fights him with everything she has, trying to unfurl her wings, but they won’t respond. “Let go of me!”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. Lucifer’s gone, so everything he has is now mine. Including you and that mutant brat of yours. The other kid...she has a father. She can live with him. You’re mine, Chloe Decker. And I said before, I want you...”
He leans in to kiss her again. She punches him in the face as best she can from close range as she continues to struggle from his grasp. “Get the fuck off me, asshole!”
“Such language! Do you kiss your children with that mouth?” Michael licks his lips. “Come on, I have the same body as Lucifer—more or less. And you know you want him. It’ll be the same thing.”
She kicks him as hard as she can. It’s enough that his grip falters, allowing her to escape and rush towards the balcony—she can fly for help. But her wings still won't respond and Michael tackles her halfway to the doors. Chloe slams her face into the floor, trying to crawl away but it’s like there’s a mountain on top of her. He’s reaching for her arms, forcing her to turn around.
He’s inches from her face, eyeing her with lust. It isn’t the same look Lucifer gives her; that one is mixed with reverence and love. This is just...cruelty. “Come on, give us a kiss.”
“Go to Hell!” She headbutts him.
He backhands her in the face and she tastes blood in her mouth. His hands are roaming her body. Chloe is screaming for help, but there’s nobody here to help her. One of his hands sinks lower and—
“Chloe, wake up!”
Somebody is shaking her. Her heart racing and memories from the nightmare so fresh in her mind, she strikes without opening her eyes. There’s a muffled grunt of pain that sounds vaguely familiar. Her eyes snap open—
—to find Amenadiel straightening up with his hand over his mouth, staring down at her in shock.
Mortification explodes in her. “Amenadiel, I am so sorry!” she says emphatically. “Are you okay?”
The angel removes his hand and looks at it. Chloe sees flecks of blood in his palm. “Um, yeah. Wow, you hit hard...”
“I’m sorry! I was having a nightmare, and...”
His expression turns sympathetic. “I noticed, that’s why I was trying to wake you.”
Chloe rubs her face, needing to change the subject; to push those images from her mind. “Did you go to Heaven? What did Gabriel say?”
He winces, though not from his bloody, swollen lip. “To summarize, the answer is no from Gabriel.”
Her heart sinks. She expected that answer, but what little hope she had shatters into nothingness. “What did she say, exactly?”
Amenadiel sits down beside her as she turns to check on Lucas—still sleeping, thankfully. “She asked if the request came from Father. When I told her it did not, that it was a personal request, she said, and I quote, ‘Why should we help Lucifer? He’s finally out of our hair. He can stay gone for all I care’.”
Wow.
“That’s, um...” She huffs, angry. “I really hate your family, Amenadiel,” she says in a low voice. “All of them.”
“They’re not all terrible, but some of them do require...patience.”
Slumping back into the cushions, Chloe sighs. “What are we going to do, Amenadiel?” she whispers, not exactly expecting an answer. “It’s been five weeks; something is wrong.”
The angel nods. “I know. I asked Father again if there was anything He could do, but...” He shrugs helplessly.
Chloe scoffs, her eyes stinging with tears. She doesn’t know if they’re angry or grieving tears. “He’s never coming back. Is he?”
Amenadiel rests a hand on her shoulder. “Chloe, if there is any way for Lucifer to return home to you,” he says softly but firmly, “he will. I’ve never seen my brother, in all the eons I’ve known him, care for anybody the way he does you. And Lucas and Trixie. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you. And I know, wherever he is, whatever is happening...he’s thinking of you. He wants to come home. And he will, Chloe. We have to believe that. We must have faith. In Lucifer if no one else.”
Despite Amenadiel being far from her favorite person, his words have done more to build up her hope than anything else. She hugs him and when he hugs her back, though it isn’t the hug she wants so desperately to feel, it helps.
Week Six
Last night...was bad.
She woke up screaming from a nightmare that she can’t remember now, which is probably a good thing, to find Teivel nudging her awake. For close to five minutes, she stared around the darkness of the bedroom into the shadows looking for...something...she couldn’t identify.
And she didn’t try going back to sleep after that. The only upside is that Trixie is with Dan again. She’s been spending a lot of time with him and Charlotte, giving Chloe a break from straining herself between two children. She misses life the way it was—with her family all together and happy beyond measure. But at least Trix wasn’t home to hear her nightmare...
The rest of the night was spent the way Lucifer spends his nights sometimes: on the balcony with a bottle of whiskey. She curled up in one of the chairs with her drink and her phone, cycling through her photo albums of Lucifer. All it did was make the ache in her heart sharper and more pronounced.
She managed to drag her half-awake self to work a few hours later and she’s been drinking coffee and staring at her paperwork ever since. The Lieutenant hasn’t assigned her a new case in weeks; probably because she would be little more than a liability. So Chloe dove into cold case files, reopening a few to work in her downtime.
Something in her periphery catches her attention and she looks up. Her heart stops and jumps into her throat.
Lucifer...
He’s wearing a dark blue suit and grey shirt, walking down the staircase with a smile as if he never left. And he’s even holding a tall styrofoam cup she’ll bet anything is her latte. Not that she cares about the damn coffee, because—
She pauses. She still feels cold; the connection she and Lucifer share is still missing. Her eyes narrow as she prays. Lucifer, is that really you on the stairs?
Absolutely no reaction. Just static.
Because it isn’t Lucifer.
The Lucifer-impostor (and she tries really hard not to remember that nightmare) sidles right up to her desk, smile widening. Her wings flutter in agitation. “Well. Hello, Detective. Did you miss me?”
“Get out of here, Michael,” she says flatly, one of her hands furtively reaching for the demon blade she keeps on her at all times. “Don’t even try it.” Her hand closes around the hilt of Hell-forged steel.
Michael cocks his head the way Lucifer would. Well, not exactly how Lucifer would; the angle is just the slightest bit off and there is no adorable puppy dog confusion; this bastard knows exactly what’s going on. And that she’s figured him out. “What?” He laughs a little. “Detective...it’s me. Lucifer.”
“Uh-huh,” she deadpans. “You have five seconds to leave before I put a Hell-forged bullet in your skull.”
The grin changes to that cold, funhouse mirror smirk she first saw right before Christmas. “Well, look at you, Detective. You are clever as they say.”
“You’re damn right I am,” she says coldly. “Get out.”
“But don’t you want to hear the information I have about your dear Lucifer?” he asks, pretending to sound concerned as he leans towards her. She cocks an uninterested eyebrow, reminding herself that whatever he says, it’s probably a lie. “Gabriel said Meni came asking her to go to Mom’s universe to check on the Devil. But see, there’s a problem. Because Lucifer is dead.”
“Is he,” she deadpans, even though her heart lurches to hear the words out loud.
Michael’s smirk deepens, knowing his words had an effect on her. “And you know what that means, don’t you, Detective?” She hates the way her name sounds from that mouth, in that accent. “There’s no one to oppose me as God. Once Dad’s gone, it’s mine. And all angels belong in Heaven; that includes you and your brat. How do you think you’ll like living in the Silver Tower with me?”
Her gun is out with the safety off in a blink. Around her, she can see her colleagues stopping to stare at her. Dan is across the bullpen with his jaw dropped and she can see he’s about to intervene. “Time’s up, MIchael. Your call. Leave or I shoot.”
The prick winks. “That’s just fine with me, sweetheart,” he croons. “Soon you won’t have your magic bullets to keep me away. And your precious Lucifer won’t save you this time, either.” He leaves.
Her eyes follow him as he goes, watching as he stops to smirk at her. Not until he’s disappeared around a corner does she flip the safety back on her gun and holster it again. Dan is at her desk in an instant.
“What the hell was that, Chloe?” he demands in a hiss.
“It wasn’t Lucifer,” she says calmly, turning back to her casework. She isn’t in the mood or the mindset to argue with anybody.
Dan has never looked more confused. “What do you mean, not Lucifer? Sure as hell looked like him to me.”
“That’s because it was his twin brother, Michael. He likes to pretend to be Lucifer. I don’t know why. Probably because he’s a prick.”
“And, what, you were just going to shoot him?”
She nods, uncaring. There’s very little she cares about right now aside from her children. “Yep,” she says, popping the p. “Believe me, it would save us all a lot of trouble.” Oh, she should let Amenadiel know his asshole brother was here...
“You’re lucky the Lieutenant wasn’t here,” Dan says sternly. “And if this gets back to him, you’ll be lucky to keep your badge.”
“Don’t lecture me, Dan,” she says harshly. “Not after you shot Lucifer.”
Dan reels back like she’s slapped him. “Look, I get you’re having a difficult time right now, Chloe. And I’m sorry, I am. But don’t take this shit out on the rest of us. You’re falling apart at the seams. Go...talk to Linda or something.” He walks away before she can even form a retort.
Chloe manages to hold it together long enough to get to the bathroom and lock herself in a stall. Then the tears start.
She can’t fucking do this anymore. Every morning that she has to wake up and not feel that connection with Lucifer, to look her kids in the eye and tell them, yet again, that he isn’t home is draining her. Lucas doesn’t understand any of it, of course, but Trixie does. And Lucifer being gone is affecting everybody. Chloe knows it isn’t just about her.
But where she would normally be there to comfort her friends and family through a difficult time, she can’t even comfort herself right now. She’s barely managing to get out of bed in the mornings and if she didn’t have Trixie and Lucas to care for...she probably wouldn’t bother.
Over the last few weeks, Lucas has started to look more and more like his father. It should be something to celebrate; instead, Chloe wants to cry every time she sees those dimples when he smiles. Every time her son has a new milestone, her first inclination is to shout for Lucifer to come see...and then she remembers and has to bite back tears. Because he should be here to see his son growing and changing; but he isn’t.
Last night was the worst—and the best. It was a mess of confusing emotion. She was going through Lucas’s bedtime routine—or his new one, at least; the one without his father—and showing him videos of Lucifer playing piano. The moment Lucifer began singing...Lucas laughed. A full-on, happy baby, belly laugh.
Chloe stared at her son as he giggled his way through the song, a smile on her lips for the first time in...she doesn’t know how long. And she yelled for Lucifer without thinking, calling for him to come into the nursery.
Reality slammed into her like a freight train. While her son laughed for the very first time at a video of his father, Chloe cried into his curls. It broke her heart all over again that her two boys were missing out on what should have been a proud father-son moment. She didn’t even think to get the laugh on video to save for Lucifer when he comes home, because she was too busy falling apart.
It’s pathetic. She knows it’s pathetic that she can’t get through a single day without crying because Lucifer isn’t here. But it isn’t something that can be helped; she can’t control the way she feels. Feelings aren’t rational, Linda keeps telling her. And it hurts to not have him here. It hurts to know he’s missing out on his son’s life; and that his son is missing out on him. It’s so fucking unfair and she has never hated God more than she does right now for blackmailing Lucifer into going to that other universe. It was that or Dan would die. And Lucifer being Lucifer, of course agreed to save Dan.
When she finally pulls herself together enough to leave the bathroom stall and clean herself up, Ella is standing at the sink, waiting for her. There’s a sympathetic look in her eyes that makes Chloe feel even more pitiful and pathetic and makes her want to cry again. Without a word, Ella opens her arms and Chloe goes straight into them.
“Let it out, babe,” Ella murmurs quietly, holding her tightly.
She does.
Week Seven
In the last week, Chloe has been through just about every single book Lucifer owns looking for information on travel to other universes. When she’s cooking dinner for her kids, she’s flipping through a dusty old book that probably hasn’t been opened in centuries. Nursing Lucas, she has another book propped open beside her. Watching TV with Trixie, she’s jotting down notes from yet another.
And when they’re in bed, she’s down on a lower level of Lux, with her phone NannyCam app on, in case Lucas needs her, going through other books Lucifer has in storage. So far, she hasn’t found anything concrete, and so many of these books are written in languages she hasn’t even heard of, let alone that she understands. But she has to do something. She can’t just sit around forever, waiting on Lucifer to finally come home.
Amenadiel has actually become a huge help, too. He’ll come over on weekends with Emily and let the babies play—or as much play as two infants ever do—and help her read the languages she can't. He’s been back to the Silver City twice now, looking in that library, but he’s come up just as empty.
“Michael can’t become God,” he says as they sit around the kitchen table eating lunch and reading. Somehow, the topic of God’s Sword came up and Chloe told him every last second of the interaction she had with him the other day. “It will be a catastrophe for all of us.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” she mutters. “What’s your Dad’s take on it?”
He rolls his eyes. “That it will all work out in the end. It will be as it was always meant to be,” he recites grandly. “But He won’t name a successor and unless He does, or somebody opposes Michael...”
Chloe nods distractedly.
Amenadiel hesitates. “Assuming Lucifer doesn’t return in time...” he says carefully, knowing better than to even suggest that Lucifer can’t return, “I would be willing to step up.”
She nearly spits out her water. “I thought you didn’t want to?”
“Well, I didn’t. And neither did Lucifer, but he was willing to make the sacrifice to keep Michael from taking over. He was willing to protect all of us. I don’t want that gesture to be in vain. And I want my daughter, and your son, Chloe, to grow up in a world where they can do whatever they want.” He smiles a little. “Whatever they desire.”
A corner of her mouth hitches up briefly, but it’s been a week since she last genuinely smiled. “For what it’s worth, I think you would make a good God. And so does Lucifer.” He looks at her skeptically. “I’m serious. He even said the smart option would be to name you your father’s successor.”
His gaze turns distant. “Huh. Then, I guess we have a plan. Oh, where’s that one book you were telling me about that mentioned the multiverse?”
Week Eight
Two months.
It’s been two months since Lucifer disappeared without a trace. Eight weeks of wondering whether he’s alive or dead. Nearly sixty days since Chloe saw him smile or crack a dirty joke or heard him tell her he loves her. The worst part about it is, she’s starting to get used to him not being here. And so is everybody else.
Nobody at work asks about him anymore. Whether that’s because they don’t care, have moved on, or are afraid Chloe will snap at them, she doesn’t know. And she doesn’t care. The only people who mention him are his close friends and even then, it’s rare they do so in Chloe’s presence. Maze and Eve have started asking her to join them at Lux, to let go of some of the bad and embrace the good. Chloe has declined every time, always finding some excuse; she doesn’t want to be in Lux while it’s in full swing without Lucifer.
Trixie is about the only person in her life who still has hope that he’ll come home. “He loves you too much not to come home, Mom,” she said reasonably, “and he would never just leave us. Don’t worry. He’ll be back soon.”
Chloe isn’t so sure.
It isn’t that she’s lost hope exactly; it’s more that she just doesn’t have it in her to keep that hope burning all the time. Too many nights dreaming about something happening to him. Or of him being surrounded in some club that looks like Lux but isn’t, with men and women hanging off his arm, telling her he’s much happier when he’s not tied down with domestication; by her. Or of him coming home but fading into nothingness the moment she touches him.
Too many nights of crying herself to sleep. Or not sleeping at all.
She knows her friends are worried about her. Linda asked her to lunch the other day and spent the whole time talking about stages of grief. Chloe barely listened. Dan is trying his best, helping her with cases and with Trixie, but otherwise, he has his own life to deal with.
He and Charlotte got married two weeks ago. A courthouse wedding—when Dan told her, all she could imagine was Lucifer cracking a joke about how badly he felt for dear Charlotte. And then throwing them both the biggest party the Devil could throw to celebrate them. In that spirit, Chloe talked to Patrick and asked him to arrange a reception for Dan and Charlotte.
Two days later, everything was in place. Dan’s entire family was in attendance—and spent the whole party giving Chloe the stink eye. There was catered food from a five-star restaurant; a pudding fountain, which Dan loved; music; drinks. The whole nine yards. The newlyweds were incredibly appreciative to Chloe and she just told them it was the least she could do.
She spent that whole party in a corner with Lucas, sipping soda and wishing her fiancé was with her. He would have been the life of the party, despite the party being for somebody else. Because Lucifer is always the party.
Next week, Dan and Charlotte leave for a month-long honeymoon in France. Chloe is trying not to think that in less than two months, she and Lucifer are supposed to be getting married—assuming he’s even here for that to happen. She’s even been finalizing the details so they don’t get behind on planning.
Today is Lucas’s four-month birthday. Chloe and Trixie threw him a little party complete with a cake he can’t eat—mostly it was for Trixie. And gave him a few small presents. He had no idea what was happening, but he seemed to enjoy ripping the wrapping paper, giggling every time he heard the riiiiip sound. It was a distraction that Chloe desperately needed and it helped a little bit.
Still, that ache that has been her constant presence along with the cold and emptiness was sharper than ever knowing Lucifer would have thrown a bigger, better party. And it wouldn’t matter to him in the slightest that a four-month-old isn’t even close to being old enough to enjoy a party.
Currently, Chloe is leaning against the bars of Lucas’s crib, watching him sleep. Teivel is beside him, already dozing on the floor. She’s delaying the moment she has to go back out into the penthouse and be completely alone. Trixie is at Dan’s this week. Again.
She’s debating whether to even bother trying to sleep tonight when she feels a phantom warmth of her connection with Lucifer. She’s been getting them on and off since he left—it’s just that: a wave of warmth throughout her body that makes her think Lucifer is back. But every time she gets her hopes up, they’re instantly dashed when the feeling goes away a few minutes later, usually because she realizes it wasn’t real.
This time, she doesn’t bother getting up her hopes.
Sighing, she leans down and kisses her son’s forehead. His little snores make her smile slightly. “Good night, Lucas,” she whispers. “I love you. And so does your daddy. Wherever he is.” Pushing herself upright, she looks down at Teivel. “Stay with him, okay?”
The hound huffs in what she assumes is acquiescence.
She leaves the room, rubbing at her chest; the warmth is stronger tonight for some reason. With the door closed, she rests her head against the wood, closing her eyes. She is so tired that she could just—
“Ah! There you are, Detective. I was about to come and find you.”
Chloe startles and yelps in surprise at the voice. Then, she freezes. Not moving, not breathing. Her heart skips a beat. Because that sounded like...
And then she realizes, this isn’t phantom warmth surging through her veins, her heart, her soul. This is the real deal. Which means—
Biting her lip against a sob, she slowly turns her head and her knees nearly give out when she sees Lucifer standing at the bar, drink in hand, smiling at her like he hasn’t been away for two months. He looks exactly as he did when he left. Same suit, not a tear in it. No injuries. He’s...fine. He’s perfectly fine. But more importantly: He’s home!
“Lucifer?” she breathes, her lips barely moving.
Lucifer cocks his head, his expression faltering slightly. “Detective? Are you all right, love? You look like you’ve seen a ghost...” He continues speaking, but she barely hears him.
When she doesn’t answer, his eyes flash with worry. But she can’t answer; she can’t find enough breath in her lungs to speak. He sets down his drink and moves out from behind the bar.
“Chloe, darling? What is it?” Panic flickers through his eyes next. “Is Lucas all right?”
Subtly, she pinches herself to check whether she’s dreaming—she isn't. This is real. And Lucifer is really here. “Lucifer. You’re back,” she whispers, her words weak and shaky as she drinks in every detail of him as if he’s water in the desert and she’s been stranded for months—which she has been.
His eyebrows furrow in bemusement. “What? Yes, of course I’m back,” he says with a little, forced laugh. “I told you I would be. Honestly, love, what’s the matter? You’re worrying me...”
Not bothering to bite back her next sob, Chloe practically flies the distance between them and throws herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck. Everything is the same—the way he feels and smells and sounds. And when he closes his arms around her, it all comes rushing back—their connection. She can feel him again in a way she hasn’t in two months. Burying her face into his neck, she cries, only vaguely recognizing the befuddlement rolling off him in waves.
“Hey, it’s all right, love. I’m here...”
She cries for everything he has missed in the last two months. Every moment with her and Trixie and Lucas. She cries for the nightmares she’s had every single night. And all the hours she spent on the balcony, searching the skies for him and wondering if he was in some other universe doing the same with her. She cries for every ounce of anger she’s had over the last two months, some of which was directed at him for agreeing to this deal in the first place, even if it was to save Dan—they could have found a way if they looked hard enough. She cries and cries. And he holds her and holds her, soothing her with a large hand rubbing circles between her wings.
“Really, Detective, I know you must have missed me, because who wouldn’t, but I’ve only been away a few hours...”
And that’s when she knows something is really wrong.
Chapter 25: Homecoming
Notes:
Thought you guys could use some fluff after all the angst I've been posting...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chloe blinks several times, shielding Lucas from the bright light, and waits for her own eyes to adjust. God has vanished into thin air. “What just happened?” she whispers.
“I’m...not entirely sure,” Lucifer says slowly, looking poleaxed by the entire situation. “But I believe Dad just left for Mum’s universe.”
“So, what, suddenly, He can go there? I spent two months begging Him to find you, and He did nothing!”
Lucifer shakes his head. “Yes, but now Mum has permitted His Presence,” he says quietly, sitting back down. He reaches over and spreads a large hand over Lucas’s back, his thumb lightly rubbing circles—self-soothing as much as soothing his son’s upset from the sudden departure. “Before, He would have bounced right off the barrier if He attempted to gain admittance, like a game of Pong.” He tilts his head and smirks. “Which could have been quite amusing, really.”
Chloe’s lips twitch. She missed his Luciferness. “What now? What was all that about living our lives and timelines?”
He scoffs. “The gist of it is that Dad’s plan is over. From here on out...well,” he huffs. “Anything goes.”
“But who is going to be God?” Amenadiel asks. “Is it still what you want, Luci?”
“I never wanted it, brother. I just don’t want Michael to have it,” Lucifer corrects him. “It would be bloody chaos, and as Dad just informed us, I can do whatever I desire, wherever I desire...and with whomever I desire.” He looks at Chloe meaningfully. “We get our forever, darling.”
She smiles at him. “Oh, I planned on taking it, no matter what.”
Lucifer smirks proudly, reverence shining in his eyes. “There’s my Detective.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then turns back to Amenadiel. “To answer your question, brother, unless you’ve changed your mind in the last couple of months during my absence?”
Amenadiel hesitates glancing at Chloe. She nods; they’ve had this discussion. More than once. “We thought you were gone, Luci,” he says in a low, apologetic voice. “I did try to find you; I tracked down the place in the desert where you opened the portal to Mom’s universe, but it wouldn’t open to me.”
“And then you visited Gabriel,” Chloe reminds him exasperatedly.
Lucifer looks between them with furrowed eyebrows. “What’s this? What’s Gabriel got to do with it?”
“At Chloe’s request, I went to the Silver City and asked her to travel to Mom’s universe to check on you,” Amenadiel explains. “She asked if Father gave the order, and when I said it was a personal request, she laughed. The next thing we know, Michael is on Earth again, impersonating you.”
“Until I threatened to shoot him,” Chloe pipes up.
Amenadiel nods. “All of Heaven was relieved to hear you were trapped or gone.”
Lucifer scoffs. “Of course they were,” he grumbles. “I’ve half a mind to just pop up there for shiggles.” His eyebrows furrow with brief unease at the thought of returning.
“Michael assumed that since you were gone, he was unopposed for Father’s throne,” Amenadiel continues. “He’s simply been waiting for Dad to leave to assume authority.”
“Well, he isn’t unopposed,” Lucifer says steadily. “And I’ve no intention of quietly awaiting the ascension notice.”
“Which is why I volunteered to take the throne,” Amenadiel says quietly. “You were right, Luci: Michael becoming God would be madness. I don’t want my daughter to grow up in the Silver City; she belongs here, with her mother and her family. The same goes for Lucas. Neither of them would be treated as equals amongst the other angels, no matter their genetics. And humans are not pawns, which is how Michael will treat them, at best; at worst, they would be slaves. We all deserve better than what we had in the past, and we certainly deserve better than Michael.”
Lucifer’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I’ll second that,” he says softly. “Brother, if you desire the throne, then it is yours, as far as I am concerned. Your reasons are far better than mine, anyway.”
“What about the other angels?” Chloe asks. “If Michael has had time to turn them to his side...?”
Amenadiel shakes his head. “Not all of them. He has a faction, yes, and he is the commander of Heaven’s army, but there are plenty of angels who would rather he didn’t have the job, either. Luci, the only problem I have with any of this is...I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits shamefully. “I’ve never ruled. I oversaw our siblings in the Silver City, but Father was always in charge. I need your help.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “What are you asking me, exactly, Amenadiel?”
“I don’t want to do this alone,” Amenadiel confides. “And I don’t want to spend long stretches in the Silver City where I miss out on my daughter’s life.” Lucifer looks away, his guilt mounting again. Amenadiel grimaces. “That was not an attempt to make you feel bad, brother, but I can see what you’re going through now, and I don’t want either of us to suffer that again—or for the children to go through it. Which is why I’m asking you to become God with me.”
Lucifer stares at him incredulously. “I beg your pardon... Become God with you?” he echoes. “I’m sorry, perhaps I still have a bit of wing-lag from my universe hop... Are you seriously suggesting that we, what...co-manage the universe?”
Amenadiel smiles in excitement, pleased his brother is following his train of thought. “Think about it! With your experience of running an entire plane of existence, and my reputation in the Silver City, neither of us would have to spend all of our time in Heaven—perhaps it will take some late evenings at the beginning, but with two of us, it would go far quicker.
“And since we are the angels who have spent the most time on Earth, we would know better than any of the others how to best see to it that humans are taken care of, and what changes should be made. And we don’t have to do it alone, either, Luci, we can involve all of our siblings—set up a council and decide amongst ourselves what is best.”
“Bloody hell. You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?” Lucifer asks faintly, looking between his brother and Chloe, who is listening with furrowed eyebrows. She doesn’t seem to dislike the idea, exactly.
“It’s been a long two months, brother,” Amenadiel says somberly. “Lucifer, you are the only sibling with whom I would want to do this.”
Lucifer shakes his head, not understanding. “Why, though? You haven’t exactly been my biggest supporter, Amenadiel.” All of the arguments and fights, every lecture about the divine ramifications of his actions—they all run through the Devil’s mind as he tries to work through this. “Why would you want me to do this with you?”
Amenadiel’s shoulders drop and his head bows. “Luci, I know we have had our differences, and that I have been...hard on you in the past. But there is no other angel I would trust more to help me with this. We both have our faults, but between our strengths, I know that we could make the world a better place for our children.”
Lucifer stares at his brother for several moments, then says, to nobody in particular, “Have I returned to an alternate universe?”
His brother smiles. “Don’t you want a world where your son can grow up and flourish?”
“Well, of course I do, Amenadiel! Which is precisely why I don’t want Michael on the bloody throne—he would watch the world burn just to spite me.” He turns to look first at Chloe, then down at his son who is playing with her necklace—the one with the bullet and baby feet pendant that has both of her children’s names and birthstones on it—and imagines two vastly contrasting futures.
In the first, Lucifer and Amenadiel are running the show—Heaven and Hell, and everything in between—and have made changes to the things that shouldn’t have existed in the first place: hunger, war, people who chew with their mouths open. And he pictures his son, grown and thriving...and happy. Without suffering.
But in the second, Michael is on the throne. Humans are slaves for angels. Lucifer is locked in Hell for eternity, powerless to escape or to reach his family. Chloe is Michael’s captive, his Queen, even, against her will, and unable to fight him. And Lucas... Treated like a freak, an outcast amongst angels and humans. Hating himself for who and what he is. With a Devil face of his own—
“No!” Lucifer wipes the thought from his mind, cursing his overactive imagination. But at least some of that is a possibility if he doesn’t do something.
“Lucifer?” Chloe calls, concerned.
He holds up a hand, requesting a moment, panting and doubled over as horrific images continue to mount in his mind. Straightening, new determination rises in him. He’s never desired to be God; he never wanted to be the Devil or the King of Hell, either, but he’s flourished at both. And he could do this, too.
But it isn’t only his opinion that matters. There is somebody else whose opinion is worth far more to him than his own.
He looks at Chloe. What do you think about all of this?
Chloe chews on her lip, looking torn. I think... There is nobody I trust more than you, Lucifer Morningstar. There is nobody who has seen more of humanity—good and bad. And nobody who would have our children’s best interests at heart more than you. If this is something you want to do...then I support you. One hundred percent.
Lucifer stares at her, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes burning with emotion. There has never been anybody with more faith in him than Chloe Decker. He doesn’t think there will ever come a day when he isn’t blown away by her trust and belief in him. And then she adds—
But if you disappear again, I’ll tie you down and stuff goat cheese down your throat, she adds sweetly.
He shudders in disgust, but leers at her. You can tie me down anytime you like, Detective. Just keep the chèvre away from me.
She smirks, then turns serious. I think it’s a good idea. The Godhood thing, I mean, not...the goat cheese. Between you and Amenadiel, the universe would be in excellent hands.
Clearly, her opinion of Amenadiel has shifted in the last two months. Faintly, he wonders what else he’s missed.
But with her words, his confidence grows. So long as he has Chloe’s support, he doesn’t think there is anything he couldn’t do. He nods, giving her a grateful smile. “Then I suggest we gather our siblings and have a chat. I don’t imagine it will be long before Michael becomes aware I’ve returned, if he isn't already; I owe him a punch in the face for trying to impersonate me in front of Chloe, of all people. Whilst I don’t desire a war, I will fight to keep what is rightfully mine.”
Amenadiel smiles. “So, you’re agreeing? You will do this with me?”
Lucifer sighs in not entirely feigned exasperation and defeat. “Yes, I will be your co-God. We can hammer out the details later. For now, we need to focus on bringing Michael down a peg. And I normally love a good pegging.” His brother looks confused, while Chloe rolls her eyes and tries to stifle her laughter.
“I’ll speak with our siblings.”
“Splendid.”
After leaving Amenadiel’s, they stop for lunch at a small, outdoor bistro that Lucifer loves, though he spends more time gazing off into the distance than he does actually eating. And he has quite a lot to think about, doesn’t he?
First, there’s the co-God business, which is still a strange concept to him, and he imagines a fair few arguments between himself and Amenadiel as they settle into it. Perhaps if they were to divvy up the responsibilities—Amenadiel can deal with Heaven and the angels while Lucifer oversees Earth and humanity. Hell can run itself. Really, all the planes of existence seem to be functioning well enough, but there are issues with all three, things his father never bothered fixing because...well, Lucifer doesn’t exactly know why, but he suspects it’s because God just didn’t care. Not big changes, but things like starvation should definitely go. Homelessness.
Free will is a fickle beast, though, toeing that particular line will be difficult. He also makes a mental note to change the process of giving birth for women, remembering Chloe’s labor with Lucas with painful clarity; there is no reason for it to be so agonizing and gory.
But he can deal with that later, once Godhood is secured.
And speaking of God...
By now, one would think that he would be accustomed to his father and His mysterious ways, and yet, from the moment He showed up in Los Angeles, it has been one divine nuclear bombing after another. And now, it’s just...over. With hardly any fanfare at all. His father is off annoying his mother and has taken His ineffable plan with Him (or at least the parts that involve Lucifer and his immediate family; he’s still a bit unclear on that point, too), and now he truly gets to find out what it’s like to live his own life, to be his own man, which is all he’s ever desired. He should be happy, shouldn’t he? But mostly he feels...confused.
“You okay?”
Lucifer looks up from where he’s watching a street performer on a nearby corner—a drag queen, he thinks, dressed as Lucille Ball...if Lucille Ball had ever been a green space alien. Los Angeles is truly one of the strangest, most amazing places he has ever visited or lived.
He turns and finds Chloe watching him in concern, most of her attention on him, the rest on feeding Lucas a bottle. Lucifer smiles at them, his family. There is still some residual ache every time he sees just how much his son has grown during his two month absence, how Chloe has changed, as well. But as Chloe said, it sucked, but it happened, and there isn’t anything they can do to change it.
“Yes. Apologies, my love,” he murmurs, turning his attention towards her completely. “I suppose I’m...processing.”
She huffs, looking down at Lucas, who looks milk-drunk—all dazed, half-lidded eyes. “I can imagine.”
“And you? You seem...better this morning.” More herself. He may not have seen her while he was away, but he knows that if she were the one who disappeared, he would be a half-alive wreck—on his good days. “You have more color.” More light in her eyes.
Chloe nods, giving him a smile. “I’m getting there,” she says quietly. “Having you back—” She shakes her head, blinking rapidly to ward off another wave of tears. “I’m so glad you’re home Lucifer.”
He reaches over to cup her cheek. She immediately nuzzles into his touch, a look of pure joy in her expression, and she turns her face to kiss his palm, making him smile. “I’m only sorry I was away in the first place, Detective, and that you had to go through that at all. I’d’ve done anything to spare you that pain.”
It’s still mind-boggling that two months, for him, have passed in the blink of an eye with absolutely no accountability. Was it a side effect of crossing universes? Something more nefarious? They will likely never have a real answer, now that Dad’s gone. All Lucifer can do now is make up for the lost time as best he can, and hope it hasn’t had adverse effects on anything that can’t be repaired.
“I know you would have. It’ll take time, but I’ll be okay, promise.”
He hopes she’s right.
“So, what do you make of your dad’s abrupt departure?”
Lucifer scoffs. “That, once again, my celestial family only shows up when they need something from me,” he says bitterly. He thought it that day his father showed up at the precinct to ask him to speak to Mum in the first place. He’d been wondering why God decided to come out of the divine woodwork when He had, and His flimsy “to see My grandchildren” wasn’t flying with Lucifer. At least it seems as if Chloe didn’t give in to His ‘requests’ to spend time with Lucas. “And once they’ve either gotten their way, or have nearly blown apart half the world, they vanish.”
She gives him that look of compassion that makes his heart ache. “At least it seems like things went well with your mom?” she says hopefully.
“They did, actually. She seems happy, at any rate, which is what I desired for Her. After everything She went through with Dad alone, She’s earned it. I’m just glad I’m not there when He arrived; all those new angels have no idea what is about to hit them.”
Lucas finishes his bottle and Lucifer immediately reaches for a burp rag, then for his son. Chloe only hesitates a moment, likely used to doing everything herself, but smiles as she passes him over. She watches them, chin resting on her propped up fist, like she thinks Lucifer is a figment of her imagination and he’s going to vanish at any moment.
“I won’t keep saying, but...I missed you so much,” she says, her voice trembling.
He gives her a sad smile. “Don’t cry, love. Please.” He had been doing so well at not making her cry, and now this... “I’m not going anywhere.” Never again. Not if he can help it.
She nods, biting her lip and shaking her head, huffing a wry laugh. “It was just so...quiet without you, Lucifer. And I know I’m supposed to be this badass mom and detective, and not define myself by a man, but...I didn’t feel right without you.”
“Well, we both know I am no mere man, Detective. I’m the Devil and the Lightbringer, and therefore, far superior,” he says with all the arrogance he can muster, just to make her laugh. It works, to his relief. His expression softens. “And you are a badass, Chloe. The baddest ass I’ve ever known, and I’ve no doubt that you handled the last two months with much more poise than I would have managed, if you had been the one to disappear without a trace.” He’d have torn apart the universe searching for her, and if he’d been unsuccessful... Suppressing a shudder, he focuses on his son.
Chloe lifts their joined hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “Guess we’ll just have to stay together, then, won’t we?”
“Now, that sounds like a brilliant plan, darling.” He glances down at his shoulder where Lucas has nuzzled against his neck. “What shall we do with our afternoon?” Then a slow, leering smile grows on his lips. “I can think of a few things...”
She laughs. “Down boy,” she teases, unable to rid herself of her smile. Much better... “I do have one idea, and if we don’t follow through, it may result in death by shoe...”
Chloe knocks on the open door to Ella’s lab at the precinct. It took them nearly half an hour to get here from the main lobby—between Lucifer’s return and the rarity of Chloe bringing Lucas here, everyone they passed stopped to say hello, and to welcome back the Devil.
“Hey, Ella, you got a second?”
“Hey, Decker! Yeah, gimme one second. I thought you called out sick today. Everything okay?”
Lucifer steps up to Chloe’s shoulder. “She was struck with a sudden, uncontrollable case of Devil-itis,” he says loftily, grinning.
There is a sudden crash as Ella drops the glass beaker she was holding, and Chloe really hopes that wasn’t anything important—or dangerous. Ella gasps and stares at Lucifer. “Ohemgeee! You’re back!” Then she shoots across the room like a bullet, wrapping her arms around Lucifer tightly, locking his arms to his side. “I can’t believe it, we were so sure... But I am soo glad we were wrong! Welcome home, buddy! Where were you? What took you so long? What happened?”
A grimace of discomfort flickers across Lucifer’s face and he looks pleadingly at Chloe, who just grins at the sight, one hand on Lucas’s stroller handle as he sleeps away obliviously. “Yes, hello, Miss Lopez,” he says, trying, and failing, to extricate himself. Though from Chloe’s vantage point, it looks like most of it is for show, and he’s secretly pleased to have been missed so much by his friends. “Would you mind terribly releasing me?”
“Yep, I would totally mind,” Ella says shamelessly, holding him tighter. “You’ve been gone two months, dude, there is a backlog of hugging to make up for—deal with it.”
Chloe laughs.
Lucifer rolls his eyes but smiles, managing to free one of his arms to pat the forensic scientist on the back. “I’d say I missed you, too, but I last saw you only yesterday.”
That seems to jolt Ella out of the hug as she pulls back to look at him in confusion. “What are you talking about? You were definitely gone for two months.” She looks at Chloe as though trying to confirm she isn’t crazy. Chloe nods. “We were going loco trying to figure out where you went.”
“Long story short, where I was, only a matter of hours passed, and upon my return is when I realized a much greater time had gone by,” he explains, adjusting his cuffs.
“Time dilation,” Ella says confidently. “Seriously, you just blinked and all this time passed? Que mierda apesta, buddy.”
“En efecto, Miss Lopez.” His wistful eyes travel to Chloe, then to Lucas. Chloe can’t imagine going away briefly then returning to find her children have changed, knowing they did so without her by their side. Her heart aches for all of them. “But I’m back, and all is now right with the world once more.”
It certainly is in Chloe’s world.
“But I don’t understand, how did that even happen?” Ella asks.
Lucifer shakes his head. “No bloody clue. I suspect there may have been a glitch of some sort when I crossed the boundary between universes; there’s a reason we shouldn’t travel between timelines and other worlds. And the only person who could answer that question with any effectiveness wouldn’t, and He has since retired to the universe from which I recently returned.”
Ella nods knowingly. “Your dad, right? Wait, He’s gone? I didn’t even get to meet Him!”
He cocks his head curiously. “You wouldn’t have wanted to, darling, believe me. But how did you...?”
“I had to explain where you had gone. And why,” Chloe informs him. “Nobody would accept ‘business trip’ as an excuse, and I wasn’t in the mood to think up a story and maintain it.” Until then, they’d managed to keep God’s presence on Earth to themselves.
“Ah...” His eyebrows furrowing with guilt again.
“We wouldn’t have bought it, anyway, Decker,” Ella scoffs. “There’s no way Lucifer would have voluntarily left you and the kiddos for that long.”
“You’re not wrong, Miss Lopez.”
“You have to tell me everything about the other universe! Like, down to what the grass looked like!” Ella latches onto his elbow enthusiastically. “Did it look like ours? Were there people, or were they more, like, human-animal hybrids? I need to know!”
Lucifer’s lips twitch with fondness for Ella. “The grass there, or at least on the planet I visited, was a deep scarlet. As for the inhabitants... How familiar are you with Kentauri, Miss Lopez?”
She gasps excitedly. “Centaurs? I love centaurs!”
“Kelpies were always my personal favorite. Beautiful creatures, even the ones in Hell.”
“There are kelpies in Hell?” Chloe asks, imagining Lucifer galloping through Hell on a water horse. She’s only ever seen him with one horse, and that was at that teen rehab camp when he managed to get stoned out of his mind and forget he was on a horse. “What horse?”
He looks at her, impressed. “You know what a kelpie is, darling? I wouldn’t have pegged you as the mythical creatures type.”
Ella leans towards him, mischief in her eyes. “Bet you did some pegging last night, huh?”
“Not last night, no, but we did...reacquaint ourselves...” He shoots Chloe a dirty smile.
She rolls her eyes, but is unable to hide the smile on her face. Oh, she missed him... “Okay, guys... Can we...not?”
Ella pouts. “No fun, Decker.”
“Hey, Ella, do you have—holy crap, Lucifer’s back!” They all turn to find Dan poking his head into the room and staring in shock at the Devil. “When did you get back?”
“Daniel! Lovely to see you up and about! Last night, to answer your question, and to forestall all queries: I was in another universe, visiting my mother, the Goddess of All Creation, and did not realize more than a few hours had passed here, much to my despair upon returning.”
Dan nods slowly. “Right... I’m going to pretend any of that makes sense. Welcome back, man. It’s good to see you.”
Lucifer blinks in surprise of his own at the sincerity of the other man’s tone. “Yes, well... I hear congratulations are in order for you and dear Charlotte, and I do apologize for missing the wedding; your gift is forthcoming.”
“Just...no weird sex stuff,” Dan says warningly. “And thanks, man. The party was definitely lacking without you there.”
Lucifer scoffs. “Well, yes, of course it was. Nobody parties like the Devil.”
Chloe turns to her ex-husband. “Hey, Dan, would you mind if we picked up Trixie from school this afternoon? I don’t want her to find out Lucifer is back from anyone else, and if we make her wait, she’ll just hack one of our Uber accounts.”
Dan laughs. “Yeah, no problem, Chlo. That works out perfectly; I’m buried in this case right now, anyway, and wasn’t sure how I was going to pick her up in time.”
“Speaking of people finding out that Lucifer is back...” Chloe turns to her fiancé with a sudden thought. “You’re going to want to let Maze know. I really don’t want her stomping into the penthouse and throwing knives if she finds out from Amenadiel.”
Lucifer makes a face. “Right you are, Detective. As always.” He takes out his phone, hits a few keys, then shows them the text. And Maze’s response is immediate.
His phone rings and he cringes. “This isn’t going to be pleasant. If you’ll excuse me a moment...” He slips out of the room, and Chloe has the irrational urge to snatch his hand to keep him close, her heart screaming that if he leaves her sight, he’ll vanish again. She manages to refrain, but follows him with her eyes. Thankfully, he doesn’t go far, just to the alcove by the stairs.
“You gotta be relieved,” Dan says gently to her. “Having him back...”
Chloe huffs. “Relief doesn’t even cover it. I finished putting Lucas down last night and came out of the nursery and he was just...standing there at the bar having a drink. I thought it was a dream.” It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time. That has been a recurring dream for her in the last several weeks, where Lucifer would come home like he never left, but the moment she tried to touch him, he’d vanish or disintegrate in her hands. “And he had no idea so much time had passed. The look on his face when I told him it’s been two months...it broke my heart all over again.”
“Poor Devil,” Ella says sympathetically. “Imagine losing all that time with your loved ones, especially when there’s a little one involved.”
“He feels so guilty, but it’s not like he could have known this would happen, you know? He thought he’d only be gone a short time, and now, he has all this catching up to do.”
“You’ll both be okay,” Dan says bracingly. “You already seem more like yourself, Chlo. It’s a relief; we were worried about you.”
She huffs wryly. “I was worried about me...”
“Oh, we should totally all get together for dinner or something this weekend,” Ella suggests enthusiastically. “That way we can all catch up! And before Dan and Charlotte go off on their romantic honeymoon getaway.”
Dan grins. “Yeah, that could be fun.”
Chloe nods. “I’ll talk to Lucifer about it, though I doubt he’ll pass up the chance to socialize,” she says, smiling. It feels wonderful to smile again. “We only dropped in so he could say hi to you guys; we should head out once he’s finished on the phone.”
“I’m so glad he’s home for your sake, Chloe,” Dan says, giving her a one-armed hug.
“Me, too. But I wouldn’t have gotten through it without help from both of you, so thank you,” she says emphatically.
“Yes, I would also like to thank you.” Lucifer’s voice is right beside her, startling her slightly, and he places his hand on her hip, apologetic and possessive. She leans back into the firm planes of his chest, inhaling his Lucifer scent, and her nerves are immediately soothed. “For taking care of my family in my absence, much as I wish it never happened.”
Ella smiles. “Hey, that’s what family’s for, you guys. We take care of each other when we need to.”
Dan nods his agreement.
Chloe wonders how she got so lucky to be surrounded by such amazing friends. “Well, it meant a lot to me, having others pick up the slack when I couldn’t.”
“Don’t even mention it, Chlo. We were happy to help where we could,” Dan puts in. “And you guys did the same for me after I got shot.” A slightly uncomfortable expression flickers across his face. “Speaking of... Lucifer, can I talk to you for a minute? In private.”
Chloe raises an eyebrow and glances up to see her partner doing the same. “You don’t intend to shoot me again, do you?” he asks warily. “Because I will warn you, I am invulnerable now, and I’ve a feeling the Detective would not take kindly to it.”
Dan gives him a look. “No, of course not, I just want to say something to you real quick. I won’t keep him long, Chlo.”
Lucifer glances down, checking in with her. She nods, then watches the two men go towards an observation room.
“What’s that about?” Ella asks curiously.
Chloe shakes her head. “Not a clue...”
“Look, I just wanted to say...” Dan and Lucifer stand inside the observation room, the former looking distinctly uncomfortable, something Lucifer would normally take and run with, but watching Sir Douche squirm is enjoyable, too. “Chloe told me what you did.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “What? That I went off to another universe?”
“The reason you went off to another universe—the deal you made with...um, your dad.”
“Ah.” Lucifer slips his hands into his pockets, feeling a bit uncomfortable himself now. “Yes, well...”
“I don’t remember a whole lot from the shooting, but I do remember having this moment of clarity where I knew I was going to die,” Daniel says somberly. “And I’m not ready for that yet—and not just because I probably would have wound up in Hell. Because I want to see my kid grow up, you know? I wanted to marry Charlotte and start a life with her. I had so many things I was going to do, and I was sure I’d never get a chance, you know? But then, suddenly, I’m waking up in the hospital with my family around me and I’ve got this second chance... All because the Devil made a deal with God.”
Lucifer shifts on his feet. “Yes, well... I couldn’t just allow you to die, could I? Who would I have annoyed here at work? Whose pudding would I have stolen? And besides, your offspring would have had my head if she ever found out there was something I could have done and didn’t. I assure you, it was all done in the name of self-preservation.”
Dan rolls his eyes, an annoyingly knowing smile on his face. “Still. And now, I find out you missed two months of your own kid’s life fulfilling that deal to save mine. So...you know, thanks, Lucifer.”
“I suppose you’re not entirely awful, Douche,” Lucifer says dismissively. “And the world would certainly be a darker place without you in it.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can do to repay you...”
“You’ve already done it, Daniel,” Lucifer says seriously. “You helped take care of Chloe these last two months, helped shoulder some of her stress. I couldn’t have asked for more. Truly.” If he couldn’t have been here for his Detective, at least she wasn’t alone, balancing two children, work, and a broken heart. He hesitates, not truly desiring to know the extent of it, but at the same time, needing to know. “Was it...awful for her?”
Dan makes a face. “She...wasn’t herself. She kind of just floated around the precinct like a lost soul—when she wasn’t burying herself in work. Most of the time, I’d look over and find her staring at your empty chair with tears in her eyes, or she would come out of the bathroom crying. I’d never seen her like that, and frankly, it scared the hell out of me. If it hadn’t been for Trixie and Lucas, I honestly don’t know what would have happened with Chloe. She’s always the rock, and suddenly, she just...crumbled, you know? Like, she didn’t even have the strength to pretend she was fine after a while.”
“Right...” It was far worse than he’d imagined, then. “I see.”
Dan sighs. “Look, man, it doesn’t sound like any of this was your fault—not really. Did you know this was a possibility?”
Lucifer looks at the other man flatly. “Did I know that visiting my mother’s universe would result in a two-month time dilation and me missing the lives of the people I love most? Yes, Daniel,” he packs in all the sarcasm in his body, “of course I bloody well knew, and I did it, anyway, damn the consequences!”
Dan rolls his eyes. “Exactly,” he says, ignoring the sarcastic tone. “You never would have done that to Chloe, and we all knew it.”
“Which is why you all thought I had died.” Lucifer raises an eyebrow.
“It seemed like the only logical conclusion, you know?” Daniel says reasonably, half-shrugging. “We hated it, but nothing else made sense.”
And Lucifer can understand that; he certainly doesn’t blame them for drawing that conclusion. Especially knowing that Chloe couldn’t sense him or their connection to prove the theory incorrect. He would have assumed the same.
“Chloe never once gave up, though,” Daniel tells him. “Any time one of us would even hint that we thought you were gone permanently, she got furious, because she knew you were out there somewhere. And that you’d manage to find your way back home somehow.”
That both makes him smile and makes him sadder. The former because Chloe has always had more faith in him within her left arm than most people have in their entire bodies. And the latter, because...well. If by some tragedy Lucifer hadn’t come back, she would have spent the rest of eternity searching, both for him and for answers, never living her own life. Perhaps it’s a bit of a double standard, because he would have done the same, but if something ever does happen to him, he wants Chloe to move on, to find happiness, and even love, elsewhere. Even though the thought of her moving on from him makes him want to punch a hole in the wall. And anything else in his vicinity.
“And we all know how stubborn the Detective can be,” Lucifer says, smiling weakly.
Daniel snorts a laugh. “Yeah, no kidding. Anyway, man, I won’t keep you. Just...thanks, for what you did. I know it couldn’t have been easy agreeing to that deal with your asshole dad.”
“It was worth it, Daniel,” Lucifer says sincerely. “And I meant it when I said your wedding gift is forthcoming; perhaps you and Charlotte would enjoy spending your honeymoon at my French chateau just outside Paris?”
Daniel stares at him. “You have a French chateau? What am I saying, of course you do... But you don’t have to do that, Lucifer.”
“C'est absurde. Ce serait avec plaisir, Detective Douche,” Lucifer says in smooth, perfect French. “C'est le moins que je puisse faire après avoir pris soin de Chloe en mon absence.” 1
“I have no idea what you just said, but fine. Yeah, the chateau sounds pretty awesome, actually. Thanks, Lucifer.”
Lucifer smirks mischievously. "Tout ce que je demande en retour, c'est que tu n'ailles pas en France en ayant l'air de sortir de la scène d'un boys band. De plus, procurez-vous un dictionnaire français ou ils vous riront, vous et votre coupe de cheveux, hors de ce foutu pays.”2
“I’m going to assume that was all one big insult and move on with my day. Dick.”
“Douche.”
Daniel grins. “It’s good to have you back, pal.” He claps Lucifer on the shoulder. “Get back to Chloe before she comes charging in here.”
When they leave the room, they do, indeed, find Chloe glancing anxiously towards the door as though she’s mentally planning to break it down to get to him. It increases his guilt, knowing his absence is what did this to her. Chloe is far from being the type of woman to hinge her entire life on the presence of a man, and yet, from what Lucifer can tell, her life all but ended when he didn’t return home and it slowly broke her down, piece by piece. She is normally so strong and brave, and it breaks his heart imagining her alone in their large bed, crying herself to sleep over him, and drifting through the rest of her life like a waif.
She lights up with relief at the sight of him, her shoulders relaxing. “Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yes, of course, love. I’ve offered my French chateau for Daniel and Charlotte’s use during their honeymoon,” he says cheerfully. “And do remind me to ensure there is a translator on hand to avoid Daniel getting tossed into the Bastille due to an unfortunate translation; I don’t imagine he would fare well.”
“That’s not even a thing anymore,” Dan argues.
“Perhaps not, but the guillotine has only been out of use for a few decades; it would be a shame for you to run around headless, Daniel. However would you eat pudding?” It feels like ages since he last got to tease the Douche; Lucifer nearly forgot how much fun it is.
“You know what, I take it back. Go back to the other universe,” Daniel jokes.
“Okay,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling at their banter. “Lucifer, we should head out if we want to pick up Trixie in time.”
“Right, yes, of course, Detective. Do give Charlotte my best, Daniel. She will likely need it, married to you.”
Daniel throws up a middle finger over his shoulder on his way to Miss Lopez’s lab.
“You’re both children,” Chloe grumbles as she pushes Lucas’s stroller towards the elevator.
Lucifer grins, placing his hand at the small of her back. “You know you love me.”
She tilts her head back to look at him. “Yeah, I do,” she says softly.
“LUCIFER!”
Chloe and Lucifer lean up against the side of the Benz, which is still running since Lucas is fast asleep in the backseat, when they hear Trixie’s voice over the noise of excited children getting out of school for the day. Lucifer straightens and braces himself in preparation as they spot Trixie sprinting at full speed towards them, zigzagging between other kids and adults. There is a huge smile on her face as she barrels into the Devil, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Lucifer isn’t unaffected by the reunion either, Chloe sees clearly. Rather than pretending to be exasperated by Trixie’s exuberance, he hugs her back, cradling her head against his lower belly with his large palm. Chloe absently notices how tall her Monkey has gotten in the last two months, no longer pressing into Lucifer’s hip when she hugs him. Lucifer himself is smiling hugely, too, his eyes suspiciously brighter.
He may have only been gone a few hours from his perspective and therefore didn’t have to suffer being separated from his loved ones, but he seems to understand how his absence affected them. Chloe especially, she knows, and he feels guilty, which she wishes he wouldn’t. Honestly, she’s glad it wasn’t two months for him. He's only just gotten used to having people who care about him and miss him when he’s gone; being away from them for any extended period would break him.
“I knew you’d be back!” Trixie says, her voice muffled in Lucifer’s stomach. “You always come back to Mom.”
He looks over at Chloe, giving her a loving, slightly trembling smile. “You’re quite right about that, Urchin. It’s good to be home.”
“Was it fun, being in the other universe? What was it like? Did the people look the same?” Chloe grins to herself at how similar Trixie and Ella are at times.
“Beatrice Espinoza! How many times have we told you, no running on school grounds?”
All three of them look up and Chloe doesn’t bother to keep her groan inward at the sight of Trixie’s old teacher, Mr. Fallus, approaching with that constipated expression he always has on his face. She suddenly recalls the last time Lucifer came into contact with him. It resulted in Chloe spending half an hour practically begging the principal not to ban him from school grounds after Lucifer repeatedly insulted the man with a barrage of dick jokes. Secretly, though, Chloe wished she’d been there to witness it. And to get it on video.
Predictably, Lucifer lights up, a wickedly devilish smirk on his lip. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Knob—I mean, Fallus with an F,” he purrs smoothly.
Mr. Fallus comes to an abrupt and complete stop as if he's run into a brick wall, all the color draining from him, then his eyes widen in recognition and his face contorts with fury. “You...”
Lucifer beams. “Me! Lovely to see you and your bollocks again,” he says pleasantly. Chloe fights not to facepalm herself—or maybe Lucifer.
“Miss Decker.” Fallus turns to her, his voice tight with irritation. “If you would kindly refrain from bringing this...gentleman onto school grounds, it would be appreciated. That kind of language, as I believe you were informed before, will not be tolerated here at Harris Place Elementary School.”
Chloe raises an eyebrow. “And as you were informed before, Mr. Fallus, many times, my name is Detective Decker, and this gentleman is my fiancé. It’s likely you’ll be seeing more of him in the future, as a matter of fact.”
Lucifer shoots her a proud smirk. For what? Calling him her fiancé? Sticking up for him?
Fallus takes a deep breath through his nose and lets it out slowly. “Refrain from foul language or I will have him trespassed,” he says sharply, turning on his heel to walk away.
Lucifer lifts his hand in a wave. “So schlong, Mr. Fallus with an F! Bye, now!”
Trixie is giggling, her hand holding the Devil’s free one. “He really doesn’t like you, Lucifer. Or me,” she adds.
Abruptly, Lucifer’s demeanor changes from mischievous asshole to protective step-Devil. “What do you mean, he doesn’t like you, Urchin? Has he said something to you?” Chloe is interested in this answer, too.
Trixie shrugs. “Not really. But he gives me really mean looks when I pass him in the hallway, and he’s always yelling at me.”
“I see,” Lucifer says coldly. “If you’ll excuse me, I must have a word with Mr. Fallus with an F...”
“Nope,” Chloe says quickly, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket. Nothing good could come from that. “I will deal with it, Lucifer. We don’t need to worry about Trixie getting kicked out of school because you flashed your Hell eyes at a teacher.”
“Who said anything about my eyes, Detective?” he sniffs primly. “I was merely going to tie him to the top of the flagpole.”
As amusing as that would be... “Yeah, that’s worse, babe. I’ll call the principal in the morning about how he treats Trixie.”
“I don’t really care,” Trixie tells them dismissively. “Maze says that when people don’t like you, that’s when you know you’re doing something right.”
Chloe closes her eyes and sighs. “Of course she did,” she mutters under her breath. Time for another talk with the demon on appropriate lessons for an eleven-year-old. “Okay, let’s get out of here before Lucifer gets himself trespassed. Or arrested.”
“I’d love to see them try. Really, Urchin, must you do this?” He shakes his and Trixie’s joined hands. “And what is on your hand, child? It’s as though you’ve found a vat of honey and stuffed your hands into it.”
“It’s probably glue from art class. We had glitter, too.”
“Oh, for the love of...”
As Chloe walks around to the driver’s seat, she can’t stop smiling. She has her entire family back; life is good again.
On the drive home, they decide to stop for dinner—pizza and ice cream—to celebrate Lucifer being home. As they eat, Trixie asks every question that pops into her mind about Goddess’s universe, and then brings Lucifer up to speed on everything that has happened here, all the elementary school gossip he’s missed. Chloe doesn’t think she’ll ever not be amazed at how good Lucifer is with her daughter—even Chloe doesn’t know the names of half the kids Trixie talks about, but Lucifer knows it all.
“...and that’s why Levi isn’t allowed to do show-and-tell anymore,” Trixie concludes her most recent story.
Lucifer is snickering. “That’s what happens when a child is given access to things like torches and firecrackers. You would think a teacher would know better.”
Trixie shrugs. “Mrs. Thomas’s hair is growing back, but it’s all lopsided and stuff.” Her amusement fades into sadness. “Lucifer?”
“Hmm? Yes, Urchin?” He turns away from watching Chloe giving Lucas a bottle. His eyebrows dip into a frown at the look on Trixie’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“You won’t leave again, will you?” Trixie asks in a small voice. Chloe’s heart sinks. “Mommy was really sad. And so were Lucas and me.”
Lucifer makes a strangled sound in his throat. “I didn’t intend to be away for this long, Urchin,” he says softly. Apologetically. “For me, it was only a matter of hours; I had no idea so much time had passed here. I’ve already apologized to your mother so much that she’s sick of hearing it, but...I’m sorry, Trixie. And no, I’ve no intention of ever leaving again—at least, not for any extended period. I can’t promise I won’t have to pop down to Hell someday, or even to the Silver City. But I will not leave for this long ever again. You and your mother both have my word.”
“And your word is your bond,” Trixie quotes.
He smiles. “Precisely, child.”
She nods in acceptance. “Okay.”
“I did hear that you were quite the help to your mother whilst I was away, though, so thank you, for taking care of her and your brother for me. I’m glad they had you to be there for them,” Lucifer says, reaching over and placing an affectionate hand on Trixie’s head.
“Somebody had to protect Mom and Lucas,” she says, squaring her shoulders. She leans towards Lucifer and whispers a bit too loudly, “They’re defenseless without us.”
Lucifer laughs. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Your mum is quite the deft hand with her short sword,” he says proudly, looking over at Chloe.
Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Are you two finished talking about me like I’m not here?” she asks with entirely feigned annoyance. They both just grin at her. “You were a very big help, though, Monkey. Thank you.”
Aside from Chloe, Trixie seemed to be the only person who had complete confidence that Lucifer would come home. And when she would hear Chloe having nightmares, she would slip into bed with her mother to comfort her. It isn’t something a child should ever have to do, comforting their parents; it should be the other way around, but Chloe just didn’t have it in her. She could go through the motions, she could take care of her kids to the best of her ability, but beyond that, it was like she was slowly shutting down. It was terrifying.
Trixie shrugs like it was no big deal. “You’re welcome, Mom. You’re always doing stuff for me; it was my turn to do something for you.”
“You do things for me all the time, Trix, just by being you.”
“Can I go home with you and Lucifer instead of going back to Dad’s? I want to hang out with you guys.”
Chloe nods. “Yeah, I don’t think Daddy will mind. Why don’t we have a game night?”
“Monopoly?” Lucifer asks hopefully.
She rolls her eyes. “You are a fiend for that game, Lucifer.”
“Well, it was the first non-naughty board game I ever played, Detective. I quite enjoyed that first game night with you and the Urchin.”
She knows. In fact, he stole the shoe token from their Monopoly game box to commemorate that night. And then proceeded to prove to the world, and himself, that he is a top hat and not a shoe. Turns out, he’s both. “So did we, babe.”
“Cool! We haven’t had a game night since Lucifer left.” The Devil’s face falls at the announcement, but he covers it quickly. “Lucas can play, too! He likes the dog game piece.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. “Lucas is more likely to swallow the dog piece than play with it. And shouldn’t Teivel be the one to play the dog?”
“Lucas can be the wheelbarrow, then; it kinda looks like his stroller.”
Chloe smiles as they continue to debate Monopoly game pieces.
They will probably never fully understand what happened for those two months Lucifer was gone—or why it happened. And while it was the worst two months of Chloe’s life since her father died, they all got through it, if only by the skin of her teeth, in her case. But as she told Lucifer last night, the only thing that matters is that he came home in one piece. Everything else, they can figure out as they go. Together.
Notes:
I'll be posting a Valentine's Day one-shot tomorrow. Hope everyone has a great weekend, whatever you're doing!
Translations from DeepL:
1. “This is absurd. I would be delighted, Detective Douche,” Lucifer says in smooth, perfect French. ”It's the least I can do after taking care of Chloe in my absence.” return to text
2. “All I ask in return is that you don't go to France looking like you've just stepped off the stage of a boy band. Also, get yourself a French dictionary or they'll laugh you and your haircut out of this damn country.” return to text
Chapter 26: Angel of Gossip
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lucifer wakes suddenly in the middle of the night, initially uncertain what roused him. A glance at the monitor on his bedside table shows that Lucas is fast asleep and peaceful in his nursery, so that wasn’t it. When he hears the whimper behind him, his stomach clenches with guilt, instantly knowing what’s happened. He’s been back from Mum’s universe for nearly a week now, and for the most part, has re-acclimated himself to his life after having lost two months of it.
It is far from the first time he’s returned to Earth after an extended period of time—though normally, it is a much longer period that he’s been away and he has no trouble adapting. Mostly because there was nobody he had to worry about leaving behind or losing to the passage of time. Now, though...it may have only been two months, which is nothing in his lifespan, but for his loved ones, it felt like an eternity.
Chloe isn’t usually the clingy type—the only times she has been were when he went to Hell and nobody knew what to expect, and right before he went to Mum’s universe. In the last week, though, she’s hardly let him out of her sight. She gets anxious when he isn’t where she expects him to be, and she is constantly touching him when he is nearby (which he has no complaints about). But this connection they share, with their souls being joined as they are, has had a much deeper effect than they ever realized; with his half of the bond missing, hers couldn’t cope. His absence has traumatized her. And for that, he will never forgive himself, even though it wasn’t his fault, and he couldn’t have known about the time flux.
He’s been there for her as much as he can be, and she’s even agreed to start seeing Linda to deal with it, but one of the side effects she’s been stuck with is nightmares. Four times in the last week, she’s awoken in tears or with a strangled, agonized shout. One time, Lucifer had been in the nursery with Lucas when she awakened, and he could hear her frantically searching for him, tearing through the penthouse, her nightmare having convinced her that he’d vanished. It took nearly an hour to calm her enough that she could fall asleep again, and then only when Lucifer wrapped himself, and his wings, around her.
Now, he rolls over to find Chloe laying on her side, squirming around beneath the covers as though she’s running in her sleep. Somehow, she ended up at the far side of the mattress, and he suspects that is what triggered her nightmare—even though she can still sense their connection in sleep, unless she is physically touching him, the nightmares start. Lucifer has had the same problem in the past with his own nasty dreams.
“Chloe,” he murmurs, placing one hand on the mattress in front of her and lifting himself over her. “Hey, it’s all right, love. It’s only a bad dream.” He leans down to press tender kisses to the side of her neck, his favorite way to wake her up.
Her face contorts in her sleep, as though whatever she is seeing is tormenting to watch, and whines. “Lucifer...please...”
“I’m here, Chloe, I’m right here...” Seeing her so tortured by her own subconscious is gut-wrenching; and knowing he’s the subject makes it all the worse. “Come on, darling, wakey-wakey...” He continues to kiss along her jawline and her cheek. When she still doesn’t wake, locked too deeply in her nightmare, he switches to prayer.
Chloe, everything is okay, love. Come on now, wake up for me. Please?
All at once, she gasps into wakefulness and he pulls back to avoid knocking their heads together. She’s panting as she curls in on herself, her entire body trembling. Lucifer scoots up behind her again, wrapping her in his embrace, and she startles, clearly having forgotten he was here.
“Lucifer?” she mutters brokenly.
He kisses her temple, a sharp pain in his chest caused by her pain. “I’m here, my love,” he murmurs against her ear. “It’s all right.”
She lets out a shuddering sigh of relief, turning in his arms and burying her face in his shoulder. “You’re okay...” she whispers to herself. “You’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” he promises her, though it’s only a half-truth; watching her suffer is killing him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
After a minute or so, she lifts her head, kissing him hard, her fingers twist tightly in his hair, locking him in place—not that he has any desire to be anywhere but right here with her. She pushes him back into the mattress and climbs over him, grinding her hips into his and making him groan loudly into her mouth. He places one hand on her waist to help her balance, the other cradles her head. For long minutes, they kiss with messy desperation, and he’s familiar with this, too; after a particularly nasty nightmare, especially when it involves something happening to Chloe, he needs to reaffirm to himself that she’s alive and well and with him. And the best way he knows how to do that is through sex.
He doesn’t try to regain control, allowing Chloe to dictate every move. She kisses down his neck, leaving marks on his skin, his chest where she nips at his nipples and makes him hiss; her fingertips dig into his skin hard enough to leave bruises and her nails scratch him as they travel. He loves every second of it. Chloe doesn’t waste time teasing as she yanks his pajama bottoms down far enough that she can wrap her lips around his cock. Lucifer stuffs his fist against his mouth to muffle his shout, hoping to avoid traumatizing the Urchin sleeping across the penthouse—perhaps they should get a door for their bedroom...
This is fast and dirty oral, with Chloe utilizing every trick she knows that makes him react, to make his eyes roll into the back of his head, and especially the things that make him cry out in pleasure. One of his hands goes to the back of her head, wrapping her hair into a makeshift ponytail, and she hums around his cock in approval. She reaches over to move his free hand to one of his nipples, wanting him to touch himself. Well, if she wishes to engage in that little bit of voyeurism, who is he to deny her?
“Chloe...” he groans, his head tipping back as he bites his lip.
He can feel her smirk around his cock as she pulls him deeper in her throat, and when she swallows around him, the effect is damn near instantaneous: His fingers tighten in her hair; his thigh muscles tense as he struggles not to thrust into her mouth; his eyes squeeze shut, unable to keep them open, even though he wants to watch her watching him. He comes hard with a low groan, managing to keep the volume down.
When he finally settles and his body stops shaking with aftershocks, he opens his eyes to half-mast, finding Chloe sitting astride him again, her hands planted on his chest as she smiles down at him. “Hi,” she whispers. “Welcome back.”
The response he gives her is garbled and incomprehensible, and it makes her laugh. Lucifer reaches for her, needing to taste himself off her. He moans as he tangles their tongues together, curling his around hers, licking the roof of her mouth with just the tip. Chloe whimpers against her lips, kissing him harder, her hand caressing his face.
“Want you...” she breathes into his mouth.
“Yes...” he sighs.
But then, he always wants her; hell, he wants her while he’s buried inside her, as close as two people can possibly get to one another. It’s never enough. His hands go to the buttons of the (his) dress shirt she’s wearing—apparently, she got into the habit when he was gone, wanting to feel closer to him, and his clothes smelled of him—and deftly undoes them. He’s tempted to just rip it open, but this is the shirt she gave him for Christmas.
Tearing his lips away from her mouth, he travels down her neck, sucking a bloom against her pulsepoint, then continuing on to nip at her collarbone. He presses a kiss to the spot where her scar, the one she had courtesy of Jimmy Barnes, had once been—her immortality removed all the scars from her body, leaving behind only smooth, perfect skin. Part of him misses them, because they showed how strong she was; evidence of all she had overcome and survived, even the scar from her mother’s evil chihuahua.
He wraps his lips around one of her nipples as his fingers find the last button, and sucks, flicking his tongue over the tip. She lets out a shuddering sigh, cradling his head and scratching her nails lightly against his scalp. But when he tries to roll her over to her back, fully intent on going down on her, she stops him, shaking her head.
He pouts at the denial. “But I wanted to—”
“Later,” she says frantically, curling over him to kiss him again. “Need you...”
Again, he agrees, letting her have anything she desires. She can bloody well have it all. He manages to get her knickers off without tearing them to shreds, and then her hand is wrapped around him again. She strokes him a few times, then lines his cock up at her entrance, immediately sinking down on him. He bites his tongue against whatever loud sound is forming in his throat, his eyelids flickering. One of his hands finds her hip and grips her hard, careful not to hurt her; the other finds her face, guiding her back to his mouth.
Chloe sets a quick and dirty pace again, fucking him hard into the mattress, swiveling her hips and squeezing her muscles with every thrust. He plants his feet on the bed for leverage to piston his hips, meeting her every movement. Her head is thrown back, her back arched, and one of her hands on his knee for balance. She’s bloody gorgeous...
“Fuck, Lucifer,” she gasps on a particularly sharp thrust.
“Hmm...that’s the idea, love,” he can’t help but quip, finding her clit with his thumb. “Just don’t stop.”
“I won’t...” She leans forward again, moaning at the change in angle. Her hands are planted on either side of his head now, her hair a curtain around them, blocking them from the rest of the world.
He growls when she moves faster. But something is missing...something he needs to see... “Wings...” he sighs. “Show me your wings, darling.”
She doesn’t hesitate, shrugging her shoulders and unfurling her blue wings. He groans, the hand not gripping her hip lifting to bury his fingers in her feathers. She barely stifles a cry of pleasure—she hasn’t felt him do this in months, which is a damn tragedy in and of itself.
“Like that, do you?” he asks smugly, already knowing the answer. She nods jerkily, anyway. “So do I.”
Her wings are bloody perfect, from the color and the gradience of the different shades of blue, to the shape of her feathers (like rounded arrowheads), to the way they shimmer when light hits them. He loves her wings; they’re perfect for her.
“Close,” she pants, pressing her forehead against his.
“So am I,” he gasps, gripping her hip to hold her in place and pounding into her from below.
It only takes seconds for him to push her over the edge, her entire body tensing as she comes around him with a shudder and a cry muffled against his shoulder. The hand on her hip moves to a spot between her wings, working her through it and holding her flush against his chest. She’s so tight around him that his thrusts falter, unable to hold a rhythm, and then he’s coming with her, light and color exploding behind his eyelids. He groans a curse and her name, giving her everything that he has and everything that he is; it’s always been hers, from the moment he laid eyes on her.
“Chloe...”
She’s whimpering and gasping against his neck, her orgasm stretching on and on. “Lucifer,” she breathes into his skin.
It feels like an eternity passes before he comes back to his senses, but he has enough to cup her face and kiss her, that slow, sweet kiss he gives her every time she graces him with this experience, from their first time to now. She hums into his mouth, shrugging away her wings, to his disappointment, and tracing the contours of his face with just the tips of her fingers.
“Hi,” she whispers, giving him the most beautiful smile.
“Hmm... Hello, Detective,” he purrs. “That was a delightful middle of the night surprise.”
Her smile falters and a shiver runs through her. He wraps his arms around her—he knows it isn’t from being cold but her nightmare still haunting her mind. “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt...”
He huffs an incredulous laugh. “That was not a criticism, darling; on the contrary, I am yours to use however you desire, whenever you desire it.” He cups her face, turning serious. “I understand the need for affirmation after a night terror, to reassure yourself that all is as it should be. I am always willing to assist you with that, however you need me.”
They both hiss when she shifts off of him, back against his side, nestling her head on his shoulder. “I dreamed that I was standing in the desert, searching for you while you were gone,” she says in a low, trembling voice. He shifts onto his side and unfurls his wings, enclosing them in his Light. “And suddenly, I found the portal. And you were right there in front of me—I could see you and you were just a few feet away.” He can hear her frustration and anguish. “But then you vanished. I started looking everywhere for you, any place I thought you might go, and I was asking everybody if they'd seen you, but they didn't know who you were. Never even heard your name before. I kept looking and looking, and I finally found you, but then you just...disintegrated right in front of me.”
“Oh, Chloe, it’s all right,” he murmurs, cradling her to himself as she starts to cry. He literally aches for her, wishing more than anything he could take away this pain. “I’m right here, darling.”
She sniffles as she nods. “I know. I know that, Lucifer... And I know it’s ridiculous that I can’t get over you being gone—”
“It’s not,” he says, perhaps a bit too sharply. But he won’t have her feeling ashamed for any of this. “Chloe, if our roles had been reversed—if you had up and vanished without a bloody trace...” He shakes his head, desolation filling him at the mere thought. “It would have destroyed me, utterly and completely. I would have torn every universe apart searching for you, and if I couldn’t find you...”
He huffs a wet laugh. “You know, it’s a little funny in a morose sort of way, but I used to pride myself on my solitude and my independence—I didn’t need anybody, or so I thought. I certainly didn’t want to tie myself to something as ridiculous as monogamy.” He makes a face to emphasize that he’s only teasing. She cracks a smile. “The thought of waking up beside the same person sounded...bloody boring, and all that domestic rubbish?” He scoffs.
Then his expression softens and he cups her face, stroking his thumb along her cheek. “And then I met you. My dear Detective. And suddenly, the only thing I wanted was to be with you. You were practically all I thought about before we were together. And whilst I had an absolute rubbish way of showing it, I was madly in love with you, even then. Now, I can’t imagine ever going back to that life. It isn’t just this...connection, this bond that we share. It’s you—Chloe boring-middle-name Decker with all of your sensible shoes and sweet 90s jams and your processed cheeses... You’ve shown me how to love. And how to be part of a family. You’ve given me a life I never could have begun to dream of ever wanting, and if I were to lose you...” He shakes his head, his heart squeezing painfully. “I wouldn’t want to go on. And perhaps that’s selfish, as there is Lucas to consider, but I wouldn’t be able to put one foot in front of the other the way you did, or to even try going through the motions of pretending to be normal.
“So I understand why this is affecting you so deeply, Chloe, and I would never think less of you for it. Our bond...I can’t say I understand it fully, but you and I are connected on a level that I sincerely doubt has ever existed before now. We literally feel one another, whether we’re in the same place or not, and to lose that feeling for even a moment...it’s unsurpassable. So for you to come through that as well as you have, aftereffects notwithstanding... Chloe, you’re the strongest person I know.”
She rests her forehead against his, stroking his temple with her thumb. “Be that as it may...I don’t think I could ever endure it a second time, Lucifer.”
“You won’t,” he responds instantly. “I will never put you through that again, unknowingly or not. Don’t ever worry about that, Chloe.” Maybe he shouldn’t promise her that; neither of them knows, after everything they’ve seen and been through, what might happen in the future. But he does know that there is nothing he won’t do to spare her that pain.
“Okay,” she breathes, her shoulders releasing tension he didn’t know she had. “I believe you.”
He kisses her softly. “Good.”
He knows this won’t be the end of her trauma, but it feels like a wonderful start.
“Welcome home, Lucifer,” Dr. Linda says, smiling as he settles into his usual spot.
“Why, thank you, Doctor, it’s lovely to be back, even though it doesn’t actually feel as though I've been away,” he says, frowning.
It’s all still quite confusing. He’s seen Linda since his return from his ‘absence’. He and Chloe invited their friends over for a little dinner party over the weekend to allow everybody to catch up and celebrate his return. Lucifer had the shock of his life when Maze walked right into the penthouse with a glower on her face, stomped over to him with her fingers twitching, like she was itching to grab one of her blades...and hugged him. By then, he’d already had his fill of hugging, but this one caught him so off-guard he didn’t quite know what to do—so he hugged her back. And it was a real, genuine I missed you, I was worried about you hug.
And then she’d punched him in the shoulder so hard he still has a bruise for making her worry about him.
But he and Linda haven’t had the chance to catch up in any detail until now. She also hugged him within an inch of his life. In fact, he’s been hugged by every one of his little circle of friends—his family—even Daniel. It does give him a warm feeling, knowing that he was missed by the people he most cares about. He’s never had that before, anybody genuinely caring about what happens to him. Who would mourn him if he were gone. It brought a tear to his eye as he stood at the bar and watched them milling about his home and chatting happily, their moods improved with him back amongst them.
“Yes, could you explain this time thing for me?” Linda requests. “I’m not sure I fully understand it.”
Lucifer scoffs, adjusting his cuffs. “None of us understands it, Doctor. I genuinely do not know what happened. I was in Mum’s universe for not even eighteen hours, I crossed the boundary back to our world, and suddenly, two months of my life have vanished—like jumping from one chapter in a book to another towards the end. It’s quite strange, really. I didn’t know anything was wrong until I saw the Detective’s face when I arrived home. She looked as if she had seen a ghost. I nearly didn’t believe her until I saw how much Lucas has grown in the intervening months.”
Linda gives him a sympathetic look. “That’s terrible, missing two months of your infant child’s life, his development...I’m so sorry, Lucifer.”
“Yes, well... What’s done is done, yes? No use lingering on what cannot be changed; it isn’t as though we can travel back in time.”
“But it can’t have been easy, dropping back into your life after two months.”
“No, it hasn’t been. Mostly because I have been witness to Chloe’s trauma and torment. All sources agree on one thing: She was not herself, and she barely got through in one piece. But as I told her last night, she is the strongest person I know, and if anybody can overcome and adapt, it is her.”
Linda makes a face. “I don’t want to go into detail, since I’m seeing her professionally now, but...it wasn’t easy for her.”
“I’m just glad the rest of you were here to rally around her; to help her care for the children when she felt she could not. And I’m doing my best to make up for everything she has gone through, but it can be a struggle. She had a bloody awful nightmare last night—not for the first time—and it took some...” he smirks to himself, “effort to settle her nerves and soothe her again.”
“Well, we aren’t really here to talk about Chloe, but I will say this before we switch to you: Keep doing what you’re doing, Lucifer. Just being near her will help to reassure her that everything is back to normal. Remind her that it’s over, and that you’re back. Spend time together outside of the penthouse—take Lucas to the park or something. It will take time, and I’ll work with her, too, but she’ll be fine. Like you said, Chloe is incredibly strong; if anyone can get through this, it’s her.
“Now, you told us at dinner about visiting your mother’s world.” A look of discomfort crosses her face that she quickly tamps down; she gets that look anytime Mum is brought up in conversation, likely due to the memory of being flambéd by a Goddess. “But tell me how it was to see her again.”
He takes a deep breath. “It was...odd. To be honest, I wasn’t overly eager to reunite with Her, but at the same time, despite everything She did during Her time on Earth, well. She’s still my mother, isn’t She? I was pleased to see She was adapting so well in Her new universe, and that She managed to create something as beautiful as She did. I was also a bit apprehensive about how She would feel seeing me again; after all, I did lock Her away in an empty universe, away from the children with whom She had been so desperate to reunite. I thought She might be angry and spiteful; Dad locked Her away in Hell last time, and here I was doing the same with a universe.”
“Isn’t it different, though? God locked Her away, in a room, stripped Her of her powers, or restricted them, I still don’t understand that, either. She was a prisoner being punished. What you did, though... You gave Her a chance to build Her own life, one outside of God’s shadow. She is free to do as She wishes whenever She wishes it, and She didn’t have that in Hell, did She?”
Lucifer tilts his head in thought. “No, I suppose you’re right, Doctor. Insightful, as ever.”
“Did the two of you talk at all? Or did you simply ask Her what you went to ask Her?”
“We talked, a bit. I told her about Lucas and Emily—”
“You told Her about Emily?” the doctor asks, alarmed.
“Well, yes, when She asked about Amenadiel. Doctor, you needn’t worry about your child when it comes to Mum. Even if She could return to this universe, She would never harm the children. She was bloody thrilled to learn of their existence, as a matter of fact.” Linda relaxes minutely. “And...She wanted me to pass along that She regrets what She did to you, Linda. Mum has had quite some time to reflect and grow in Her universe, and it would seem She has come to regret a great many things. She apologized for the way She raised my siblings and myself, and for how She treated me when She was here.”
Linda’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know She could feel regret or remorse.”
Lucifer snorts. “No, neither did I,” he says wryly. “But here we are.”
“How did that make you feel? Knowing that She regrets Her treatment of you?”
He looks down at his hands. “I forgave Her,” he says quietly. “For all of it. Neither of my parents ever had a lick of remorse in their divine forms; they believed everything they did was for our benefit, whether we liked it or not. But Mum was always...I wouldn’t say loving, not now that I know what parental love is supposed to feel like, but She did love us—in Her own way. I believe that. It’s a hell of a lot more than I ever got from Dad, that’s for damn sure.”
“Do you regret sending Her away? Other than that whole ‘bleeding light, might explode half the world apart’ thing, I mean...”
“No,” he says without hesitation. “Even without bleeding light, Mum was a ticking time bomb. She was chaotic and destructive, and She didn’t care who She hurt to get Her way.” He gestures at Linda. “Exhibit A. And She also went after Chloe, in more ways than one; if She had remained, who knows what would have happened?”
Perhaps She would have succeeded in removing Chloe from Lucifer’s life in Her attempt to convince him to return to Heaven. Or She would have found Her way to Heaven Herself and started the war with Dad that She desired—he doesn’t even want to imagine that carnage; his siblings wouldn’t have hesitated to fight back. Just look at Uriel. And he’s certain they would have found a way to blame him for it.
“It sounds as though you’ve come to terms with everything that happened with your mother,” Linda says, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s leading him somewhere in the conversation.
“I suppose. I’ve known for some time now that most of what She did whilst on Earth was to manipulate me—everything from telling me Dad wanted to destroy me to telling me that Chloe is a Miracle and a manipulation herself. I don’t know if there is any truth to the former, and it doesn’t matter; but I know Chloe is not a manipulation. Dad told me before He went off to Mum’s that in every timeline He foresaw, the ones where Chloe and I met, we were happy and made the world better—in some cases we saved the world, even. So He desired for me to spend eternity with her and made her an angel. I still wish she had some choice in the matter, but she seems to have come to terms with it. But the point is, she was never put here to be used against me, or as a pawn.”
“And you believed Him?”
“He doesn’t lie,” Lucifer says simply. “He does the same thing I do with the truth—deflection, prevarication, bluffing, but never outright lying. So yes, I do believe Him.”
“That must be a relief, Lucifer. I know you and Chloe decided that it doesn’t matter, but...”
“But there was still some tiny part of me wondering ‘what if’,” he says with a nod. “And yes, it’s quite a relief. I’ve no doubt that Chloe would have fought against the plan with everything in her, but it doesn't always work out. And even I think using one's child's soulmate against them is twisted and cruel. No doubt, He would have found a way to turn it around and make it our choice that I, for example, return to Hell for eternity, where He desired for me to be.”
Linda’s eyebrows furrow. “Didn’t He say that Hell no longer requires a warden?”
“He did. But the more I thought on it, the more I wondered about it. All the time I spent in Hell, I believed that was my only role—the warden; a punisher and torturer. And I was bloody good at it, Doctor. But perhaps Dad thought Hell requires something aside from a warden.”
“Like what?”
Lucifer shakes his head; this is where he gets tripped up every time he thinks about it. “Damned if I know. Theoretically, it is possible for the damned souls in Hell to overcome their guilt, and once they have, it is a one-way ticket to the pearly gates. But as it has never been done, I’ve no idea. Perhaps something related to that? Am I supposed to...what, rehabilitate the souls in Hell?” He barks a laugh at the preposterousness of it all. “I wouldn’t know where to begin, Doctor.”
“Have you ever tried?”
Familiar, ancient despondence rises in him at the memory of just how ineffectual he was at talking damned souls through their guilt. “Many, many times,” he says somberly. “And it never worked.”
“Maybe you just didn’t ask the right questions? Or you didn’t have the life experience, yet, in order to help them?” she suggests.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But as I’ve no intention of returning, it’s a moot point. Perhaps there’s a better way. It isn’t the souls that are the problem, Doctor, it’s the bloody system. There are souls in Hell right now torturing themselves over things like survivor’s guilt, or being unable to talk somebody out of doing something that results in them being hurt. Situations they feel guilt for, but aren’t their fault. Basing an entire system like Heaven and Hell on guilt was Dad’s worst idea ever.”
“On what criteria would you base it?” she asks curiously.
“I don’t know that, either. And I have spent billions of years ruminating on the subject. The true monsters—the pedophiles, the rapists, the Jimmy Barneses and Malcolm Grahams and Perry Smiths of the world; people who take their shoes off during an airplane flight—they belong in Hell. Not somebody who is otherwise a good and decent person. Honestly, I’m not sure there is a good answer to that question, Doctor. We could sit here and debate it for a week and not come to an acceptable consensus.”
“Do you think that Hell should be abolished?”
“I wouldn't say that, no,” he says carefully. “As I said, there are people who deserve to be there. They don’t deserve eternal paradise.”
She nods, accepting his answer. “That’s a very mature, rational opinion, Lucifer. After all the time you have spent there, it would be so easy for you to say ‘do away with all of it’ and yet, you understand that there is a need for Hell, terrible as it sounds.”
“I assure you, it’s a thousand times worse than what you can imagine, Doctor.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” she says. They’re both startled by the session alarm sounding. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about, Lucifer?”
He shakes his head. “No, Doctor, I don’t believe there is.”
She gives him a genuine smile. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Well, of course you are, Doctor. Life must have seemed dreadfully dull without me.”
Linda rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling.
Lucifer is at the piano later that evening, working on the composition he wants to play at his and Chloe’s wedding—in just under two months; he must really get a wriggle on. The Urchin has been tucked into bed; the Gremlin has had his nightly lullaby from his father; Chloe is taking a relaxing bath. He wanted to join her—because...wet, naked Chloe Decker; who wouldn’t want that?—but decided to give her some time to herself. And this gives him time to work on their song.
He’s so lost in the composition that he misses the muffled flapping of wings out on the balcony. But Teivel doesn’t; the hound jumps to his feet, growling and snarling, red eyes flaring. Lucifer stops and looks from the hound to the balcony doors, his jaw tense. He’s been waiting for this, and quite frankly, he’s surprised it's taken this bloody long.
Without bothering to open the doors, he calls, “Oh, Michael, we’ve been through this song and dance before, haven’t we? It’s only been two months that I was gone, you twit. Surely you haven’t forgotten that I promised my hound he could have archangel wings for dinner? What do you think, Teivel? Grilled or fried? Perhaps a nice pepper sauce?”
Teivel licks his lips.
“Are you going to stand in the shadows all bloody night?” he calls impatiently. He’d rather have this confrontation over with before Chloe finishes in the bath—
Everything okay? Are you talking to yourself?
Lucifer sighs. Not to alarm you, but—oh, that isn’t Michael... He frowns at the sight of long, dark, frizzy hair and light blue wings—dull, compared to Chloe’s... “Gabriel...”
“‘Sup, bro? How ya been? Heard you’re getting married and had a kid? Am I invited? I never got an invitation. I want to know everything about your baby mama. Come on, you know you want to tell me...”
Lucifer? Are you okay? Michael’s here? He can sense her growing panic.
No, it isn’t Michael, Detective. It’s my sister, Gabriel. Which, quite frankly, is nearly as bad...
“What do you want, Gabriel?” he asks evenly. He never had a problem with this particular sister—except those times he loaned her money and she never repaid him—but he also doesn’t trust her in the slightest. Aside from her penchant for gossip and telling the entire host every last secret shared with her, Lucifer knows she’s siding with Michael; that they’ve always been close. And with Michael desiring to become God...well. Lucifer will keep his secrets, thank you.
If you come out here, do not say a word, Lucifer warns Chloe, knowing she isn’t going to let him face a sibling on his own. Gabriel might not be the best fighter, but she’s still an archangel.
Um, okay...?
“What? Can’t a sister come say hi to her little brother?” Gabriel asks, smiling.
Lucifer barks a laugh. “Why start now? It isn’t as though you ever bothered to visit me in billions of years.”
She makes a well, duh... face. “You were in Hell, what did you expect?”
Wow. Though he isn't sure what he expected.
“And you expect us to simply pick up where we left off? Did you want to stomp on my wings while you’re at it?” Gabriel had been surprisingly vicious the day he was cast out. “State your business, Gabriel. Neither you nor any of the rest of the Host are welcome here.”
“Oh, come on, Lucifer, you gotta give me something! I heard there’s a new angel,” she sing-songs. “What’s she like? Is she cute? I bet she’s cute...”
Lucifer rolls her eyes. “Is that why you’re here? Michael sent you to gather intel on the ‘new angel’?”
“Why do you think Michael sent me? Maybe I’m here on my own. Rumor has it you went to Mom’s universe. Pretty cool, right? Did you see the centaurs? They kinda freaked me out.”
He pauses, whiskey glass halfway to his lips. How very interesting... “You were in Mum’s universe?” he asks mildly.
Gabriel freezes, as if she’s said something she hadn’t meant to say. “I mean...yeah, I was curious, you know how I am, and since it’s been a while since I saw Mom...”
And he would bet anything that she was on a recon mission searching for a certain blade. “Right... Because, again, you’ve shown as much concern for Mum as you ever did me.”
Chloe appears at the top of the bedroom stairs, hair still in a messy bun from her bath, wearing one of Lucifer’s white dress shirts and a pair of leggings. She’s holding her short sword in one hand, and her gun—likely loaded with Hell-forged bullets—in the other. She scrutinizes the new angel, but doesn’t say anything. Lucifer suddenly recalls Chloe's attempts to recruit Gabriel's help when he was missing for two months—and how Gabriel laughed when Amenadiel passed along the message.
“Oh, hey! You must be the new angel! Hiii, I’m Gabriel, Angel of Messages—”
“Gossip,” Lucifer corrects under his breath.
Gabriel shoots him a narrow-eyed glare, then turns her friendly expression back to Chloe. “It’s so great to finally have a new angel around, you wouldn’t believe how boring it gets without any new goss—I mean, news to share up in the Silver City. And anything you tell me will totally stay between just us girls...” She looks at Chloe intently, the way Lucifer would look at a human when he’s asking what they truly desire.
Is Gabriel seriously trying to mojo Chloe?
He glances at Chloe, swallowing a sigh of relief when it looks as if she’s just as immune to Gabriel as to him. He'd had his doubts, since Michael’s fear seemed to work on her. Then again, Michael permeates fear; even angels in the Silver City aren’t entirely immune. It’s what makes him an effective commander of the Heavenly army: Fear keeps people (and angels) in line.
Chloe just raises an eyebrow at the Angel of Gossip and throws Lucifer a questioning glance. What is she doing?
It’s her mojo: She can compel humans to share their deepest secrets. So either you have absolutely nothing to hide or her powers don’t work on you.
“Why isn’t that working?” Gabriel mutters under her breath.
“Because your power doesn’t work on angels, Gabby,” Lucifer says flatly. “Stop trying to compel the Detective and state your bloody business.”
Teivel snarls, taking a threatening half step forward, but as he hasn’t been given a command, he stays put.
Gabriel’s eyes dart to the Hellhound and her lip curls in disgust. “I have a Message for you,” she finally says, dropping the pretext. “From the Commander of God’s Armies.”
Lucifer raises an eyebrow. He bloody knew it. “Armies? What, there’s more than one now?” he asks snidely. “What’s your Message?”
She reaches into the pouch slung across her shoulders and digs around until she finds a roll of parchment with a black seal holding it closed. “If I walk across the room is your monster dog going to attack?”
“Call him a ‘monster dog’ again, and he might,” Lucifer shoots back. “Teivel, haal terug.” With the order to retrieve the letter, Teivel stops snarling and crosses the room to stand in front of Gabriel expectantly, if warily—Hellhounds are inherently untrusting of angels, and vice versa. Gabriel backs up several steps. Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Just give him the bloody letter, Gabriel. He isn’t going to attack unless I give the order.”
Curling her lip again, Gabriel holds the letter out, just the tips of her fingers touching it, and stretches her arm as far as she can without getting closer to Teivel. The hound steps forward, gently takes the roll in his jaws, and returns to Lucifer.
“That’s a cool sword, where’d’ja get it?” Gabriel asks Chloe. When Chloe doesn’t respond, Gabriel turns to Lucifer and whisper-shouts, “Is she deaf?”
Rolling his eyes, Lucifer takes the letter, instantly identifying Michael’s black wax seal—two swords crossing above a single star. “No, she isn’t bloody deaf. We just don’t trust you,” he says bluntly.
Gabriel has the nerve to scoff. “What did I do to deserve your mistrust? I wasn’t the one who rebelled against Heaven.”
“No, but you were the one who told Michael and Raguel where to find me,” he reminds her scathingly. “Thanks for that, by the way.”
“What did you expect me to do? Michael gave me the order, straight from Dad.”
“Oh, did you actually hear Dad give that order, Gabby? Or was Michael taking ‘initiative’ by bringing in the supposed rebel?”
She makes a skeptical face. “What’s ‘supposed’ about it? You rebelled; Dad punished you. If you weren’t guilty, He wouldn’t have sent you to Hell, would He?” she says, smirking with a got you there expression.
“Except my ‘rebellion’ was just a tad exaggerated; even Dad said it was baseless. Turns out, we all have free will, and always have.”
Gabriel rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. You are such a liar.”
“He doesn’t lie,” Chloe growls. Lucifer glances at her and then does a double-take—that isn’t possible... “And being his sister, shouldn’t you know that?”
“Oh, it does speak!” Gabriel says cheerfully—clearly, she hadn’t seen what Lucifer had. But then, he knows Chloe Decker like the back of his hand. “Also, you weren’t there; what do you know?”
“A hell of a lot more than you do,” Chloe says coldly. Are all angels like this?
Unfortunately. Well, perhaps not all. Azrael had been on his side, at least.
He turns back to the scroll in his hand, running a long finger beneath the seam to break the seal and reads. The blood in his veins freezes with every word, and he barely hears Gabriel’s probing questions to Chloe.
“So, what’s the deal with you? Are you, like, the Queen of Hell now or something? Do you even know how to use that sword? What’s your power, anyway?”
Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Do you ever shut up?”
Gabriel purses her lips and shakes her head. “No, not really. What about your kid?”
“Don’t talk about my children,” Chloe snaps fiercely, pointing her gun. He knows she won’t fire; Gabriel hasn’t done anything except talk. But maybe it will shut the angel up for a few minutes so Lucifer can bloody think. Lucifer, you okay?
Not particularly, he prays grimly, switching to verbal speech. “Tell Michael I shall send my response by midnight tonight, Earth time. Now, get out.”
“Why are you so grouchy? Sure you don’t wanna just give me your response now? I’ll keep it between us...” she sing-songs.
“No. Get out!”
Gabriel rolls her eyes but relents, scoffing. “You used to be more fun, Sam.”
“Do not call me that!” he exclaims, fed up with all of it. He lets his eyes briefly flash Hellfire red, just for the satisfaction of seeing Gabriel recoil. “For the last time, that is not my name, and the next person to call me it becomes a meal for my hound. Now. Get. Out!”
“Fine, fine, I’m going, jeez...”
Lucifer waits until he’s certain his sister is gone, then without a word, heads past Chloe to his wardrobe room.
“Lucifer? What’s going on? What was in that letter?”
He doesn’t answer Chloe’s question immediately. First, he needs to check...
Inside his Tryst Treasure Trove closet, he squats and finds the notch in the marble floor. Working it open with his fingers, he lifts the one-square-foot tile, revealing a safe that has been built into the floor that opens only by his handprint and a passcode—the day of his and Chloe’s first date. The safe beeps and the red light flashes green, allowing him to open it. He lets out a sigh of relief when he finds Azrael’s blade is still there, right where he left it.
“Lucifer?” Chloe’s quiet, concerned voice says from behind him.
Closing the door of the safe again, he replaces the marble floor and stands, turning to Chloe, examining her eyes intently. They look exactly as they always do, that unique shade of blue, shining with worry. Had he imagined it? Was it a trick of the light? Was that the first time it's happened or has he just missed it in the past?
“Talk to me,” she says softly, placing her hands low on his waist.
“How do you feel?” he asks in a low voice.
She blinks at the question. “Other than confused?”
“Yes, other than that,” he says impatiently. “Physically, how do you feel?”
“Fine, I guess? Why?”
He shakes his head. “I thought I saw...” He cups her face and tilts it, leaning in closer. No matter how weird she thinks he’s being, she stands still, keeping her eyes open so that he can—there. It’s faint, but there’s a dark blue ring around the edges of her irises that wasn’t there before—he definitely would have noticed.
“What are you doing?”
“Your eyes have changed,” he murmurs in amazement. “When you snapped at Gabriel the first time, it was brief, but your eyes glowed, Chloe.”
She blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”
He nods. “Not like mine, not Hellfire or Light, but blue. The color of your primary feathers,” he explains. “It isn’t happening now, but I can see a thin ring around your irises. I’m certain it wasn’t there before.”
For a moment, she just stares at him, then she rushes towards the bathroom, flicking on the bright lights above the vanity. She leans in close to the mirror, her brow furrowed. “I don’t...” Her eyes widen. “Oh...I see what you mean.” She turns around to stare at him. “Why would they...?”
“I don’t know, Detective. What did you feel when you said that to Gabriel—about how I don’t lie?”
She thinks. “Protective,” she says after a moment. “Annoyed that your siblings know nothing about you, because they haven’t bothered to try getting to know you.”
“Would you say, perhaps...righteous?” he asks, his eyes darting back and forth as he begins to come to a conclusion that he can’t quite reach.
She frowns. “I mean, I guess? What are you getting at, Lucifer?”
He steps closer to her, hands finding her waist. “Dad implied at family dinner that you would develop angelic powers. I don’t quite know what yours will be—although...” He hesitates, thinking through a theory he’s had for some time. “Let me ask you something, Detective: You get these...gut instincts, these feelings, and more often than not, you’re exactly right. And if you aren’t exactly right, you are damn close. What do you feel when you have those feelings?”
Chloe shakes her head. “I don’t know, I haven’t ever thought about it,” she says, bewildered. “What, are you saying my ‘angelic power’ is a gut feeling on a case?”
“Does it only happen when you’re working cases, though?”
She stills, the furrow in her eyebrows deepening. “No,” she breathes, jaw falling open. “No, but that can’t be—”
“Give me an example of when it has happened in the past,” he interrupts, his excitement building.
“You,” she whispers softly. He reels back slightly in surprise. “I’ve always had a gut feeling about you, but especially after I first saw your wings, when you healed me. The rational side of my brain—and please, do not take this the wrong way—it was trying to tell me ‘he’s the Devil, take Trixie and run’.” He forces himself not to react to her words, but he’s sure she sees something in his eyes, because she leans forward, kissing his chin in reassurance. “But my gut, and my heart, told me that the best thing I could do was to go to you. That I could trust you, and that you are good. And I was right.”
He huffs a laugh. “As always. The thing about angelic powers is, they aren’t always something overt like my mojo—or even Gabriel’s, when she tried to use it on you. We were given them to help us with our Purpose, whatever that Purpose may have been. I’ve mostly used mine for sex,” she rolls her eyes, hiding a smile, “but I also use it to assist you on cases. I even used it in Hell, when we would get a soul whose guilt wasn’t clear-cut. I loathed using it for that purpose, it felt like...I don’t know, blasphemy, but it was useful. Your power is used to help you, however you need for it to help. And I’ve noticed that your instincts have gotten sharper since your divinity kicked in; you’re more confident in them.”
“Huh,” she says, processing what he’s telling her. “So, what, I’ve had it all along? What am I, Dumbo the Elephant?”
Lucifer laughs. “Certainly not. You’re my brilliant, clever, talented Detective—now with nifty new flashing eyes when you’re feeling particularly fierce about something that you hold dear. I’ve said for some time that you’re truly good, darling; this proves it.”
She turns her head to look at the mirror over her shoulder again. “I was really hoping for laser beam hands...” she says weakly.
Lucifer laughs again. “Well, who needs laser beam hands when you can shoot them with your impeccable markswomanship skills?”
Her eyebrows furrow again. “What was in that letter, Lucifer?”
Instantly, his amusement dies. “Right. That... It would seem that Michael isn’t backing down. He’s offered a proposal for three days from now to settle the matter of Godhood once and for all.”
“But I thought you and Amenadiel were going to co-manage the universe?”
“Well, that is what we discussed, but to my knowledge, Amenadiel hasn’t spoken to our siblings about it. Even if we take over, Michael is going to try to undermine us at every turn. Something has to be done about him, and he seems to feel the same way about me.”
Chloe tilts her head in thought. “There is a throne in Hell that has sat empty for years...”
Lucifer looks at her, wondering if she’s lost her bloody mind. “You want to hand over the power of Hell and an army of demons to Michael? He would have them at the gates of the Silver City within a week—assuming the demons gave him their loyalty, but then again, all he would have to do is promise them the opportunity to torture live humans on Earth.”
She grimaces. “Yeah, that, um...that is a good point. But aren’t the demons loyal to you?”
“Well, they are, or they were, at least. Not all demons are like Mazikeen, Detective; their loyalty isn’t absolute. They will follow whomever they see as the most powerful, whomever will promise them what they most desire—which usually involves torture or fucking, or fucking torture, take your pick. The point is, handing Michael an army of demons would be catastrophic for Earth, and would likely bring about the apocalypse humanity has always accused me of being the cause of.”
“And that would be really bad, yeah. Okay, forget that. So...what, then? What is he proposing?”
“A challenge. Him versus me. Twin versus twin. Winner takes all.”
Chloe holds his gaze. “You’re leaving something out,” she accuses softly. “What?”
Lucifer sighs heavily, hating what he’s about to say, but he won’t lie to her. Not ever. “This fight that Michael desires—Detective...it’s to the death.”
Notes:
Getting into the final stretch of this story—6 chapters left. Technically speaking, there will be a 4th main fic in the Angel By Design series, and I've got about 11 or so chapters, but then I got a block and haven't touched it in months. I do want to finish it at some point, because I have ideas for how I want to end it. But yeah, I'll have to go back and see what I can do.
Assuming, of course, you guys want a 4th part?
Anyway, hope you're enjoying so far!
Chapter 27: #KeepLuciferAlive
Chapter Text
“There’s no freaking way Michael is going to come alone.”
Lucifer smirks. “I would imagine the only times he’s ever come have been alone.”
Everybody rolls their eyes and/or groans. It’s the morning after Gabriel’s visit, and Lucifer has informed Amenadiel of his twin’s challenge. So now, everybody has gathered at the penthouse to strategize. Amenadiel, for reasons Lucifer doesn’t understand, brought along Dr. Linda and their offspring. Mazikeen is also here, because Lucifer would never go into battle without his trusty demon at his side, whether it’s a one-on-one fight or otherwise. And if he tried to go without her, she’d kill him herself.
“Right, yes... I don’t doubt you’re at all wrong, Maze, and I fully expect him to also betray the rules of combat—twins though we may be, we in no way share the same view when it comes to truth-telling or oath-keeping,” Lucifer says, sipping his whiskey. Chloe is, as always, right by his side; Lucas is asleep in his swing. The Devil watches as it gently sways back and forth, thinking.
“I don’t know what there is to debate, here,” Maze announces from her spot on one of the caramel-colored armchairs. “Just Light up his crooked, feathered ass, fight over—congrats, you’re God. Or co-God, whatever.”
Amenadiel scowls from the other end of the couch beside Dr. Linda, Emily asleep in his arms. “We’re trying to avoid ending lives, Maze.”
Maze looks at him like he’s crazy. “Why? Do you really believe Michael isn’t going to try to kill Lucifer, or anyone else? He’s already said to the death. That means ending lives, Amenadiel. So either Lucifer or Michael is going to die by the end of this thing, and I know who I want it to be.” She turns her gaze to Lucifer, her expression fierce.
“Are you seriously still holding a grudge from when I ate your bloody Froot Loops?” Lucifer asks incredulously. “You already took your revenge, Mazikeen! And it took me ages to have my suits re-tailored.”
The demon rolls her eyes. “No, you idiot. I want you to win. What do you think Michael will do with demons if he becomes God? Spoiler alert: It won’t be good.”
“She’s right, Amenadiel,” Chloe says reluctantly. “Michael wants Lucifer wiped off the board. Even locking him in Hell wouldn’t be good enough, because Lucifer will always find a way to escape—you should know that better than anybody.” Lucifer smirks into his glass. “And the only way to ensure that Lucifer doesn’t come after Michael, whether he’s God or not, is to kill him. For the record, I’m against that, too.”
“I third the whole not wanting Lucifer to die,” Linda pipes up, looking around as if wondering why she’s even here.
Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Lovely, so we have a consensus—#KeepLuciferAlive. I’ll have t-shirts made,” he adds sarcastically. “Look, I’m not thrilled with Michael’s desire of ‘to the death’, either, Amenadiel, but think about it: What are the chances that Michael simply accepts that you and I have taken over and are relegating him to the shadows again? And before anybody suggests it, giving him Hell isn’t an option—aside from giving him that power being the absolute worst thing I can think of at the moment, aside from him becoming God, he would never be happy ruling only one plane of existence. Perhaps it would work for a while, but eventually, he’s going to have a horde of demons breaking down the gates of the Silver City.”
“What about a Hell Loop?” Maze suggests. “It held the Queen Bitch for billions of years, and no way does Michael have Her power.”
He considers it, then shakes his head. “Unless there is somebody in Hell watching his door, at some point, some opportunistic demon is going to sneak in and find a way to break him out. Then we have the same problem.”
Chloe leans forward suddenly. “What about sending him to your mom’s universe?” she asks. They all pause, looking between each other. “Then he’s your parents’ problem, and if you ask your mom to keep an eye on him...”
“She would want to avoid bloodshed,” Lucifer says quietly. “Detective, that is a brilliant idea.” He leans over and kisses her hard. Their kiss is broken by the sound of wings on the balcony. Instantly, Lucifer is on his feet, standing between the doors and Lucas’s swing. Teivel is at his side immediately. The others also climb to their feet, waiting to see which angel has arrived unannounced and uninvited this time. “Who’s there? I’m in no mood for games, show yourself!”
“You always were so impatient.” Lucifer’s jaw falls open at the sight of Zadkiel stepping into view. “I was putting away my wings.”
Zadkiel hasn’t changed a bit from the last time Lucifer saw him, except now he’s got a goatee—that’s new. He’s carrying a twisted, wooden staff—all that remains of the Tree of Life. Lucifer’s heart aches as he thinks of that tree—the one his father smote when Lucifer was gathering there with his siblings to talk about the benefits of free will. The most beautiful tree in all of Creation, reduced to a bottomless black crater. It was one of the reasons Lucifer hated his father by the end of his ‘rebellion’.
“Zadkiel!” Amenadiel calls happily. “Brother, what brings you here?”
The Angel of Righteousness enters the penthouse, but Lucifer doesn’t let his guard down. He doesn’t know who he can trust in the Silver City, after all. “I am hearing rumors of a fight that is about to happen between the Demiurge. And that the winner will become the new God. I have yet to decide on which side to give my support.”
“And you’ve come all the way here to find out whether I’m worthy of the job?” Lucifer guesses.
“Yes,” Zadkiel says bluntly, his eyes traveling around the room. His gaze stops on Chloe. “I understand you are the human turned angel. You were blessed by my father, and yet you are on the side of the Devil?”
Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Every day from now until the end of time,” she says without hesitation. Lucifer sends her a small smile. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“I was merely curious. One would believe that somebody given the gifts you have would support the side of Heaven.”
“I support my family’s side. And their best interests. And I sure as hell don’t trust anybody in Heaven to do the job, let alone Michael.”
“I see what you did there,” Lucifer says proudly. Chloe furrows her eyebrows for a moment as she replays what she just said, then rolls her eyes. He turns back to Zadkiel. “If you’ve come to interrogate the Detective, I’m afraid you’ve grossly misjudged your opponent, brother. She interrogates evil professionally, and there is no one better.” Chloe tilts her chin up and squares her shoulders as if Lucifer’s words have bolstered her confidence. “And as it is not she who is up for Godhood, perhaps you would direct your inquiries at me?”
It isn’t a request; he doesn’t want his siblings questioning Chloe on anything. Not because she couldn’t handle each and every one of them, but because he would rather an angelic brawl didn’t break out in the penthouse if they ask her the wrong question and he gets offended on her behalf. It wouldn’t be the first celestial showdown this penthouse has seen.
Zadkiel turns his gaze towards the Devil, and while it’s mostly inscrutable, Lucifer can see the faintest hint of revulsion on his brother’s eyes. Unlike it would from the rest of his siblings, seeing that expression on this particular brother’s face hurts; while it wasn’t the same as with Azrael, Lucifer had considered himself and Zadkiel close before the rebellion.
“I’m simply wondering why she would align herself with the likes of you.”
“If you’ve only come here to insult—” Lucifer starts heatedly.
Chloe holds her hand up to stop him. “You want to know why?” she asks evenly, her eyes shining brightly with that blue light. Zadkiel’s lips part in surprise at the sight. “Because he’s good. Actually good, unlike angels who think they’re good when in reality, you’re just humans with wings, superiority complexes, and a few magic powers.” Lucifer bites his cheek to keep from laughing at her choice of words. And the look of indignation on Zadkiel’s face. “Because even though he has faults and makes mistakes, Lucifer tries to do better the next time. And he improves himself every day. Because he has allowed himself to be both Heaven’s and humanity’s scapegoat for billions of years, listening to people blame him for the most vile things, and call him evil and a monster. And while he could have easily become that just to spite them, he’s held onto his goodness—his light. And I’m not talking divine Light, either; it has nothing to do with that.
“I’m on his side, because he has the biggest heart of anybody I know and would drop everything to help somebody he cares about, simply because he doesn’t want to see them suffering or in pain. Because he loves me and his family—his real family—with every fiber of his being, and is willing to deal with his asshole, feathered siblings just so we have a world to live in for the rest of our lives. Because he is the best friend and the best partner I could ever ask for, and he would be a better God than the original and all the angels put together. That is why I will always be on his side and he will always have my unwavering, unconditional loyalty and support.” She pauses, jutting her chin out in defiance. “Any questions?”
“Damn, Decker, you tell him,” Maze says from behind them, pride evident in her voice. Lucifer doesn’t think he’s ever heard the demon sound so impressed before. “That was kinda hot, actually.”
Yes, it was, Lucifer agrees in prayer, staring at Chloe in awe. Thank you, love. As badly as he would love to rip off her clothes and show her his undying gratitude and his own loyalty to her, well. They’ve an audience at the moment, so prayer will have to do.
She turns to give him a smile, her eyes shining with love, that blue light still present. Anytime, Satan.
“Well, I can’t say I expected all of that,” Zadkiel says after several moments, his eyebrows furrowed as he studies Chloe. “And I believe I agree with you.”
Lucifer’s jaw drops. “I beg your pardon? What do you mean, you agree with her?”
“Better you than Michael.”
Lucifer rolls his eyes. “Well, there’s a ringing endorsement for my campaign poster,” he mutters. “Are you really saying you’re on our side?”
“Michael is currently in the Silver City using Fear to gain supporters. He claims to have the Flaming Sword and the other angels don’t dare challenge him.”
“Luci,” Amenadiel begins urgently.
“Shut up, brother,” Lucifer snaps, because he knows Amenadiel is going to ask if Azrael’s blade is secure. “I can assure you, Zadkiel, that Michael most definitely does not have the Flaming Sword.” And the fact that he’s claiming that he does is laughable. What would he even do with it? It can only be lit by the Lightbringer.
He could erase your and your family’s souls from existence, hisses a voice in the back of his mind.
“That is a relief. But how do you know?”
“Because it is in my possession,” Lucifer says coolly.
Zadkiel adjusts the grip on his staff, his jaw tensing. “I see. And what do you plan to do with it?”
“Whatever I bloody well must,” Lucifer answers. “I’m certainly not going to Fear my siblings into following me, if that is your concern.”
“No. It would seem you’ve a much better reason to fight, don’t you?” Zadkiel’s eyes travel from Chloe to where Lucas is sleeping through all the action. The Angel of Righteousness hesitates, then seems to come to a decision. “You are exactly as you were in the Silver City, Lucifer.”
“Well, you needn’t insult me,” Lucifer says, tugging the bottom of his suit jacket. “Did you expect something different?”
“I did. After all the billions of years that you spent ruling Hell, I expected you to jump at the chance to cut down angels and take Father’s throne.”
Of course he bloody did. The big, bad, evil Devil, who desires nothing more than death, destruction, and mayhem. “Well, glad I could convince somebody in the Silver City that they’re wrong,” he says bitterly.
“What I’m trying to say is, I will stand with you, Lucifer. And Amenadiel, of course.”
Lucifer is taken aback. Of all the angels to stand with the Devil, the Angel of Righteousness would have been at the bottom. Zadkiel always held a grudge over what happened with the Tree of Life—and naturally, blamed Lucifer for it, though he was right there listening to every word Lucifer said and backed him in his quest for free will.
“Why?” Maze asks skeptically. “None of you gave a damn about him after his Fall; why bother with him now?”
Rather than dismiss the demon because she’s a demon, Zadkiel actually considers the question, his eyes drifting back to Lucifer, who is also quite interested in the answer. “Because I’ve come to realize that perhaps the truth isn’t as plain as it seemed to be at the time. You were right...?” He looks at Chloe questioningly.
“Chloe,” she says quietly.
He nods. “Chloe. You were right that Lucifer was used as the scapegoat. After his Fall, Michael did not hesitate to spread the word that Lucifer damaged his wing on the way to Hell—intentionally—”
“Bloody hell, that was an accident,” Lucifer says irritably.
“And when humans grew in number, his favorite pastime became ruining Lucifer’s name with them. Many angels thought it was amusing.” Zadkiel’s eyes dart to Amenadiel, who is likely shifting uncomfortably. Lucifer’s jaw tenses. He bloody knew it. “The ‘Father of Lies’ was Michael’s favorite rumor, as was that he would cause the apocalypse on Earth. Most of the rumors about Lucifer were spread by Michael and a couple of other angels—Gabriel and Jophiel, mainly.”
“Jophiel?” Lucifer says with an incredulous laugh. “Who would believe anything that idiot says? He’s dumber than the box of toenail clippings he kept under his bed. Quite fun at a party, but otherwise he’s bloody useless.”
“Hanjobadiel isn’t happy with you, either,” Zadkiel eyes mildly.
Lucifer’s lips twitch. “Yes, well, if he didn’t want the act named after him, perhaps he should have kept his hands out of his robes,” he says smoothly.
“Are there any angels who are happy with Lucifer?” Chloe counters. “Or at least don’t completely despise him?”
“Azrael,” Zadkiel says after a moment’s thought. “Raphael, Castiel, and Saraquel, I believe. They are more neutral than anything.”
Lucifer’s eyebrows shoot up. Those angels were some of the ones who backed him for free will. Not that it counted for anything at the end, of course; they all faded back into the crowd away from Lucifer when Dad denounced his rebellion.
“Azrael will most likely remain neutral, whether Dad is on Earth or not; she’s too much of a pacifist to do anything else.” And really, while having the Angel of Death on their side would increase their odds significantly, Lucifer would rather she remained on the sidelines. “The others—Raphael would never fight; the Healer must remain neutral, after all. Castiel could ward everybody off with his singing. Saraquel, though...”
“Would not fight,” Zadkiel says immediately. “She prefers to drink wine and watch reality cooking shows these days. I do imagine she would back you, though.”
“Well, that’s something, I suppose.”
“I could talk Remiel to our side?” Amenadiel says hopefully.
Lucifer scoffs. “Doubtful. I still have the spear she chucked at the Detective—and the feather tips that were clipped.”
Chloe squirms a little, wincing. Probably at the memory of Lucifer pulling those clipped feathers from her wings so that they could grow replacements. It isn’t a comfortable process.
“Not to mention I nearly smited her for that incident. She would either laugh in your face or spit on me, but she would never back me.”
“I will speak with her,” Amenadiel says. “Perhaps she could even have her spear back as a gesture of good will and faith?”
Maze makes a sound of protest. “No way! I want that spear.”
“Nobody is getting the bloody spear!” Lucifer says loudly, then grimaces when his voice rouses Lucas from his nap. “Apologies, Gremlin...” Chloe lifts the whimpering fledgling from his swing to soothe him.
Zadkiel looks at the baby with interest, making Lucifer bristle. “What is its name?”
“His name,” Lucifer emphasizes pointedly, “is Lucas.”
“Bringer of Light,” Zadkiel says with a small smile. “He is named after you?” Lucifer nods, placing a hand on his son’s back and rubbing circles with his thumb. Zadkiel’s gaze travels to Emily in Linda’s lap. “And that one?”
“Her name is Emmeline,” Amenadiel answers. “We call her ‘Emily’ for short.”
Zadkiel nods. “Do they have wings yet?”
“No, not yet,” Lucifer says. “And we’ve no idea when, or if, they will.”
Zadkiel nods. “I should return to the Silver City,” he says. “I will speak with our siblings. May I tell them that you have the Flaming Sword and not Michael?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I doubt Michael even knows, or he’d have been here looking for it, and I would like to keep it that way. Enough angels have been hurt with that blade, and I won’t be responsible for another.”
Zadkiel’s jaw tightens. “I am assuming there is more to the story than what we know of Uriel?”
Old grief and guilt grip Lucifer’s heart, attempting to dig their claws in before he shoves it all back. “I suppose that would depend on what you know,” he says quietly. “But yes, I would imagine so.”
“Perhaps one day you will tell me the full story,” Zadkiel says solemnly.
Lucifer studies his brother for a long moment, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on him. This isn’t something he ever wishes to discuss, but perhaps sharing the truth will go some way to getting his siblings to trust him. “Long story short: Uriel threatened to wipe Mum out of existence with Azrael’s blade, and used the Detective for leverage. When Uriel decided to kill both of them, I acted, and did the only thing I could at the time. I didn’t want to,” he says softly, but refusing to plead with any of his siblings for understanding. Even the ones who are willing to be on his side. “I did what I had to do.” Chloe’s hand finds the small of his back, comforting him. He leans into her touch.
“For love?” Zadkiel asks somberly.
“Yes,” Lucifer confirms.
With a nod, Zadkiel turns towards the balcony. “There is no better reason than that.” Unfurling cream colored wings, the Angel of Righteousness departs.
“Okay, what the hell was that?” Maze asks after a minute or so of silence in the penthouse. “I was expecting a fight.” She sounds disappointed that there wasn’t one.
Lucifer scoffs, turning towards Chloe and Lucas. “You and me, both, Mazie.”
“Don’t call me that, asshole.”
He smirks over his shoulder at his best fiend. She winks at him. “I will say Zadkiel is not one of the angels I thought may be sympathetic towards our goal.”
“Can we trust him?” Chloe asks quietly.
Lucifer turns to her and nods. “Yes. Credit where credit is due, Zadkiel has always been true to his word—a bit pompous on occasion and full of arrogance, but he’s irreproachable.”
Maze scoffs. “I’m sorry, did you just accuse somebody of being arrogant?”
“I’m not arrogant; I’m—”
“Egotistical? Self-centered? Condescending? Full of yourself? Stop me when I find the word you’re looking for,” Maze says, smirking.
“Confident,” Lucifer sniffs primly. “And those all have the same bloody meaning.”
“Okay, can we get back to the point,” Chloe says sternly, cutting off whatever Maze was going to say. “Why did it sound to me like Michael isn’t planning a one-on-one fight?”
Lucifer sighs, sitting down on the couch with her. “Because that is exactly his plan. As stated earlier, he would never willingly face me in a showdown alone. We already know that Michael was attempting to access Heaven’s weapons stores. He’s intending for this to be a war.”
“Then we need an army,” Maze says seriously. She holds Lucifer’s gaze, and he immediately knows what she is suggesting.
“No,” he says firmly.
“Lucifer.”
“Absolutely not, Mazikeen. I won’t have demons running amok on Earth.”
“Not even if it means you lose?” she asks pointedly.
Chloe looks at them with bemusement. “Why are we talking about demons coming to Earth?” she asks warily.
“Mazikeen wants me to bring my demonic army to Earth to fight my siblings,” Lucifer says evenly.
Maze rolls her eyes. “Not the entire army; just the ones you know are loyal to you—Belios, Gromos, even Squee could be useful.”
“Nobody wants Squee,” Lucifer says derisively.
“You can’t be serious,” Amenadiel snaps. “We can’t bring demons to Earth; it would be mayhem.’
Maze gives him a look. “Uh, hello...?”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re different,” he says dismissively. “You have self-control.”
Lucifer laughs shortly. “Are we talking about the same Mazikeen? I’m not certain she knows the meaning of the bloody word.”
“He’s not wrong,” Maze agrees, lounging in one of the chairs with her legs dangling over the arm. “I don’t.”
“Is that even safe?” Linda pipes up.
“It doesn’t matter, because I won’t allow it,” Lucifer says caustically. “I banned possession ages ago for a reason, and banned it shall remain. I’m not actually looking to start the apocalypse here; quite the opposite.”
Maze groans in annoyance. “Look, I’m not saying let them run wild. Bring a few up for the fight, then send them back home to Hell. Otherwise, it’s going to be us and Gandalf, there. Chloe’s good with her sword and she’s got the bullets—and wings. Eve is nearly as good as I am at hand-to hand. Amenadiel...I‘m sure he’s good for something. That’s six of us. Against an army of angels. I know where I’d place my Vegas bets, and it ain’t on us.”
Lucifer runs a hand down his face, stopping short of running it through his hair. “I understand what you’re trying to do, Mazikeen. And I appreciate it—truly. But I don’t even know if they would fight for me anymore. As far as they’re concerned, I abandoned them as their King. A few were friendly last time I was in Hell, but that doesn’t translate to ‘willing to die for your king’ loyalty.”
“So, we ask them,” Maze says insistently. “I like living on Earth now, Lucifer, I have people I don’t want to lose, too. If Michael wins, who knows what will happen to them.”
He twists his ring around his finger, looking over at Lucas. Everything Lucifer is doing is for him—and Chloe and Trixie. They are who matter. And he would never forgive himself if he didn’t do everything within his considerable power to ensure that he and Amenadiel become co-Gods; to stop Michael. His twin is out for blood, that much is clear. Lucifer has to be willing to do the same.
“I’ll consider it,” he says quietly. Grudgingly. Maze nods in satisfaction, twirling one of her blades.
“Luci, no!” Amenadiel argues stubbornly. “I will not allow you to bring more demons to Earth!”
Lucifer sighs irritably. “It is not up to you to allow me to do anything, Amenadiel. If we are to co-manage the universe, then we are equals, and I use my half of the equation to decide how to protect my family.”
Is this really a good idea? Chloe prays.
He looks at her. No. But Maze is right. We must do everything we can to ensure victory; otherwise, we will lose everything under Michael’s rule.
She looks conflicted but determined. I trust you, she prays firmly, watching Lucas in her lap, playing with the buttons on her shirt like they’re the most amazing toy in the world. The lad has thousands of dollars worth of toys, and he chooses buttons... But make sure you’re certain before doing anything, please.
I will, Detective. He leans over, resting his forehead against her temple. She turns her head to kiss him chastely. Tension he didn’t know he was carrying in his shoulders relaxes at her touch.
“I still say just Light them up like you did with Cain,” Maze says lazily.
“Of course you do. Because your first instinct is for blood,” Amenadiel grumbles resentfully.
“And it’s usually the right instinct,” she answers plainly.
Lucifer forestalls the argument he just knows is about to break out. “I have no desire to end lives,” he says firmly. “That doesn’t mean I won’t, though, if push comes to shove. I may have underestimated opponents in the past,” Cain. Kinley. “but I’ve no intention of doing so again. If Michael brings an army, then so shall we.” He looks at Chloe, his mind resolute, though he knows she will not like this. But you’re not fighting.
“Excuse me?” she snaps, immediately furious. “The hell I’m not.”
“What’d I miss?” Maze asks eagerly.
Lucifer ignores the demon. Chloe, you can’t. Not that you aren’t capable—you’re the most capable, but one of us must stay behind with Lucas.
Her jaw tenses, blue light shining in her eyes again. She turns to the others. “Would you guys excuse us, please?” she asks in a low, even voice.
Oh, dear...
“Yep,” Linda says immediately, gathering Emily’s things. “Amenadiel, would you put Emily in the stroller, please?”
Chloe waits until everyone is out of the penthouse. Maze tries to stay to “watch the show”, but she gets the full blast of Chloe’s glare and retreats. Lucifer knows what’s coming when Chloe takes Lucas back to the nursery without speaking a word to him.
The more he’s thought about it, the more certain he is that somebody must stay with their son. Lucifer has absolutely no intention of losing, but he’s been too cocky before and it’s been his downfall. Literally. And if the worst does come to pass, and Michael wins, it will likely lead to Lucifer’s permanent death. How he isn’t certain, but Michael is clearly searching for methods.
Lucas needs at least one capable parent, preferably with wings, and Chloe and Lucifer have never talked about what happens to their son if something happens to them. Trixie will go to Daniel, obviously; Lucas, though...Penelope, probably. And since the Gremlin is going to develop wings of his own at some point, that could be a catastrophe waiting to happen. Penelope is still unaware of the celestial, and how entangled her daughter has become in it.
Lucifer pours himself a drink, preparing himself for the argument that is about to take place. Because he knows Chloe is going to fight him on this. She will want to be with him during the battle, even if it means certain death. He can’t watch her get hurt, and if Michael gets the chance, that is what he will do—force Lucifer to watch the love of his life, his soulmate, die. And he can’t risk that. He can’t risk Lucas losing both of his parents.
“You are not leaving me behind,” Chloe says furiously as she returns to the main room.
He takes a deep breath and sets his glass down. “Chloe...”
“No. We are not doing this again, Lucifer. This shit where you try to protect me, where we both say things we don’t mean to each other, then eventually agree. Skip it. I am fighting.”
“You’re not,” he argues firmly. “Chloe, you can’t.”
“Give me one reason—one real reason—why not.”
“Because of Lucas!” he shouts. “Because I will not allow my son to be orphaned! If we lose, Michael will kill me. But before he does, he will kill you and force me to watch. I will not. What happens to Lucas if we don’t come home, Chloe? Answer me that.”
She closes her eyes, pain shivering across her expression. “Lucifer.”
“Answer me. What happens to Lucas?”
“I guess...he would go to my mom,” she answers reluctantly. “Or Maze and Eve.”
“None of them knows a thing about raising a half-angel child,” he points out. “Lucas will, at some point, have wings. Mazikeen knows nothing of wing care, nor does Eve. And your mother doesn’t even know that divinity exists. What do you think she would do if wings suddenly pop out of her grandson’s back when she least expects it? Even sending him to Linda and Amenadiel isn’t ideal. And that's assuming Michael doesn't drag him off to Heaven to be raised amongst the other angels where he will be ostracized for the simple fact that I am his father.”
She glares at him. “So...what? Now you don’t think you can win?”
“I didn’t say that,” he says quietly.
“No, you’re just planning what’s going to happen to our son if we die,” she says scathingly. “We do this together. I will not sit on the sidelines, waiting here at home for you to maybe never come back—been there, done that. Never again. You gave me your word.”
“I gave my word that I would not go anywhere that we cannot sense one another,” he corrects her heatedly. “I did not agree to watch you die, Chloe!”
“Who’s dying?” she exclaims, frustrated. “Lucifer, you promised to protect our family, whatever it takes, and so did I. I’m not some fragile princess you need to keep locked away and guarded by a dragon!”
Likely for the first time ever, Lucifer doesn’t even consider making that into an innuendo. Chloe squares her shoulders and juts out her chin the way she does when she’s standing her ground on something. Then she shrugs her shoulders, manifesting her magnificent blue wings that he will never tire of looking at. Every time he sees them he notices something new about them.
“I’m not some puny, powerless human. I am a goddamned Miracle—and an angel. And I will fight anybody who tries to hurt my family—that includes insufferably annoying Devils who somehow still don’t understand the meaning of partnership.”
Lucifer plants his hands on the bar top and leans, physically trying to rein himself in. “Believe me, Detective, I do understand partnership. It is a word that has come to mean the world to me. But...I cannot lose you. Lucas and Trixie cannot lose you, Chloe. There is too much at stake.”
“Ask me.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “Ask you what?” he says, bemused. She looks at him meaningfully, and he finally realizes. He sighs irritably. “Chloe, we both know that it doesn’t work on you. It’s a waste of time. For a variety of reasons.” Not least of all because he already knows the answer.
But she has that stubborn look on her face. Ask me, anyway.
“Bloody hell...” And to think, normally he finds her stubbornness endearing and sexy...
He straightens up and walks across the room to her. She pulls her wings behind her back close to her spine, but keeps them visible to him. His fingers twitch, eager to feel them against his skin. When they are inches from each other, he meets her gaze. There is determination, love, and just a hint of fear in her blue eyes. The rings around her irises, something he is far from accustomed to, glow brightly. She is mesmerizing.
With another sigh, he softly asks her, “Chloe, what is it you truly desire?”
She rests her palms on his chest, directly over his heart, and steps into him. He reaches for her without thought, hands on her hips. “I want to fight by your side for the right to live our lives how we desire. To forge our own path and write our own story—our very own happily ever after.” Her lip quivers briefly and her eyes water as she looks up at him. “I just want to be with you, Lucifer. With you and our babies. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure that we both get that opportunity.”
He closes his eyes and swallows the sob building in his throat. She desires the exact same thing that he does, and Dad-damn it, he can never deny her desires, no matter how much it kills him. All he ever wanted to do, from the first time he saw her on the floor of that recording studio, bleeding from a gunshot wound, is protect her. To give her the chance to live her life, and be happy and healthy. Even when he didn’t understand why he wanted it so badly; before her, he never desired that for anyone, not even himself.
Hell, he was nearly forced to watch her with another man—what he did see was bad enough, but at least she ended things with Ham-Hands before it got too serious—all because he wanted her to be happy. He was willing to let her go, if that is what she desired, but somehow, they always find their way back to one another. Perhaps it was predestined by his father that they meet, but everything else...is theirs. And by Dad, they've earned it.
Leaning down, he presses his forehead against hers and opens his eyes. She wraps her wings around them in a blue cocoon. “Okay,” he whispers, agonized. He lets out a shuddering sigh.
One of her hands finds his face and her eyebrows furrow. “Okay?”
“We do this together. Or not at all. Partners ‘til the end, yes?”
Relief washes over her and she smiles. “You’re damn right. Partners ‘til the end.”
He doesn’t smile or kiss her after her agreement. Not yet. “Promise me something, Detective,” he murmurs desperately.
Her fingers trace the contours of his face, his jawline, his nose, then his lips. “What?” she asks.
“Promise you will always come back to me, no matter what.” The fear that she won’t is sudden and chokes him when he tries to take another breath.
She doesn’t hesitate. “Now and forever, Lucifer,” she vows, kissing him softly. “After all, we have a wedding to plan.”
He huffs a wet laugh. “That we do, Detective.”
He kisses her slowly, tenderly, tasting every inch of her mouth. One of his hands finds the back of her head, fingers weaving into her hair. He can feel her wings pressing against his back, holding him against her, as though they want him to stay here with her forever, and that is just fine with him.
Gradually, their kiss grows more desperate, and before he knows what’s happening, his suit jacket is falling to the floor, and his hands are under her shirt, feeling her smooth, flat belly. The way her muscles contract and shift when he touches her. He smiles against her lips when he finds that ticklish spot he discovered the first night they fell into bed together—following their first date. Chloe squirms and her feathers flutter against him.
“Ass,” she murmurs against his mouth.
He hums, the hand on her waist traveling to squeeze her arse. “Yes, you do have a particularly fine one, darling,” he purrs, pulling away from her mouth and kissing down the slope of her neck. “Shall we take this elsewhere?” To his surprise, Chloe shakes her head. Her gaze travels to the bar and she bites her lip. He smiles slowly. “Oh, naughty Detective has come out to play. Splendid.”
Lucifer hooks his hands behind her thighs and easily lifts her, and she shrugs away her wings, letting out a strangled, surprised yelp against his lips then wraps her legs around his waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back. He carries her over to the bar and sets her down on the hard surface. She’s at the perfect height that he can pull her to the edge and press his hips against hers, grinding into her warm heat.
“Lucifer...”
Oh, he loves how she says his name. Nobody has ever said it the way she does, with care and affection—and love. How she can pack so much meaning into three little syllables... Their hands work in tandem—his removing her clothes, hers removing his—in a dance they perfected months ago.
Sometimes it’s hard to believe that this beautiful life is truly his own. That it isn’t some fantastical dream and he’s really back in Hell on his throne. He spent billions of years in that place, alone, with only demons for company—and most of them aren’t exactly the finest conversationalists. When they do talk, it’s always about torture and fighting and fucking, and they are a bunch of sycophantic backstabbers who would sooner slit one’s throat as smile at them—or smile whilst slitting one’s throat.
On Earth, since he met Chloe, he’s had to learn how to trust again, then how to be a friend, and then how to be in love. He may not always get it right—and perhaps he is overprotective—but as Chloe told Zadkiel so succinctly, he’s trying. And he’s getting better, because he has Chloe to guide him.
From partners to friends, to partners, and in a couple of months, she will be his wife. And suddenly, that need to see his wedding day skyrockets. To stand on their beach where they first kissed and he later asked her to marry him, and pledge himself to her officially. He needs it; needs her. And nothing will stop him from living that happily ever after she spoke about.
When he has her shirt off, tossed somewhere over his shoulder, he latches onto her chest, licking across the top of her lacy bra. He will never regret supplementing her wardrobe; as much as he loves her plain cotton knickers, because they are so her, she looks downright divinely sexy in lace and silk.
“Bloody gorgeous,” he growls, tugging down one of her bra cups and sucking a nipple into his mouth. She gasps as his teeth lightly scrape her, one of her hands slamming down on the bar top for balance, the other gripping his hair and holding him in place. He scoffs inwardly. As if he intended to pull away.
Her head falls backwards, and he would bet his Corvette her eyelids are fluttering shut. He smirks around her breast, making her moan. “Baby...”
“I’ve got you, Chloe,” he promises in a low, silky voice full of promise, one hand sliding to the small of her back to hold her upright—never letting her fall. Not that she could, with how tightly she’s holding onto him. She’s the only one who could make him feel this—first, when she made him physically vulnerable, because he wanted to be closer to her and had no idea how; now, even though he’s invulnerable again, he can still feel everything, because she became an angel—his angel.
“Mine...” he groans with a possessiveness he’s only ever felt for her.
She nods into his shoulder. “Yours...”
Lifting his head, he looks at her with all the love in his heart—the heart that she brought back to life. “And I’m yours.”
Chloe cups his face and he presses into her touch, always needing her closer. “My Devil,” she says sweetly, “and my angel. My Lightbringer...” She leans in to kiss him, stopping an hairsbreadth from his lips. He suppresses a whimper. “My Lucifer.”
He rears up and kisses her hard, pressing his still clothed cock against her heat, spreading her legs so he can feel more of her. The gasp that falls from her lips involuntarily allows him to plunder her mouth, not holding anything back. Her hand wedging between them to palm his hardened length. He growls, hips jerking forward into her hand of their own accord. Her other hand finds and unbuttons his trousers, mindful of his penchant for going commando when she pulls down the zipper. Always so considerate...
Then her hand is wrapped around his flesh, and he stifles a throaty groan, leaning against her shoulder as she pumps him a few times while he works her out of her jeans. Breathless with his need for her, he lifts her with one arm, using the other to tug them off, grateful that she has already kicked off her shoes—he doesn’t think he can wait any longer to be inside her.
Finally, he’s gripping her thighs and wrapping them around his waist again, his mouth never leaving hers, and she guides him. They gasp in unison as he plunges inside in one smooth thrust, his hips flush with hers.
“Fuck, Chloe,” he pants into her mouth. “Why do you always feel so damn good?”
It was a rhetorical question, but she answers, anyway. “Because I love you,” she whispers tenderly, if shakily. “And you love me. And we’re soulmates.”
Groaning, he pulls back his hips slowly, feeling every inch of her, almost leaving her completely, then snaps his hips back in hard. Chloe cries out, throwing her head back. He doesn’t hesitate to take advantage, latching onto her neck. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses on her skin. He’ll never get enough of the way she tastes, or feels, or the way his entire body seems to light up any time they’re connected like this. It was never like this before her; there was no connection with his past bedmates, no feelings. And whilst it felt good in the moment, that high only lasted so long, and once it faded, he felt empty again. Still searching for something he didn’t know existed. Let alone that he could have.
His desperation rises again and he picks up the pace, fucking into her while she holds on for the ride, digging her fingernails into his shoulders. He pulls her closer to the edge of the bar top, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit the spot that makes her gasp, and her groans increase in pitch.
“Harder, Lucifer,” she breathes next to his ear, their faces cheek-to-cheek. “Fuck me harder. I won’t break.”
His eyebrows furrow and his hips falter slightly. He’s always had to be careful with his sexual partners—one wrong move and he could hurt them. Or worse. And he’s always been exceptionally careful with Chloe—the thought of hurting her in any way makes his heart hurt. Whilst she is now physically more durable and invulnerable...angels can hurt other angels.
“Chloe...”
She groans in frustration rather than pleasure. “Please, Lucifer... I need more...”
So, he gives her what she desires, thrusting faster, driving harder, still careful not to damage her. And the sounds she makes hardens his cock until it's almost painful, twitching inside her. “You like this?” he asks, panting with effort.
“Fuck, yes,” she moans, grabbing his face and kissing him messily, all teeth and tongue. “Feels so good, Lucifer...”
“Yes,” he exhales, unable to get enough air in his lungs to say more.
The only sounds in the penthouse is their breathing and the slapping of skin on skin as he fucks her harder than he’s ever fucked anybody. And it’s so good. “Close,” he bites out, then bites her shoulder, which she seems to love.
As it turns out, his Detective likes it rough—which he knew; they’ve had rough sex on occasion, but it’s never been like this. The possibilities with this are endless. He finds her clit with his fingers, pressing and rubbing, and he sighs in relief when she comes around him—her first, always. She presses her mouth to his shoulder to muffle the shout of his name. His thrusts fall out of rhythm, faltering out of his control. Moments later, he’s coming with her, roaring her name as the stars themselves explode in his eyes.
“Chloe!”
When he’s finally able to move his muscles again, feeling drunk on her, Lucifer lifts his head to find her smiling at him, tired but happy. He kisses her, soft and sweet, a contradiction of what they just did. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks anxiously, looking her over for possible injury.
“No,” she says quickly, cupping his face, her thumbs brushing along his beard. “No, you didn’t hurt me at all, Lucifer.” He relaxes in relief. “That was...pretty amazing, actually.”
A slow grin grows on his lips. “Why, Chloe Decker...I knew you were a little freak,” he says, “and I mean that in the best way possible.”
She rolls her eyes, blushing. “Shut up,” she grumbles, making him laugh. Then she meets his eyes earnestly. “Lucifer, I like it because it’s with you. Slow, fast, rough, gentle, wings or no wings...I love everything we do together.”
His amusement fades. “Yes. As do I.” He kisses her again, trying to convey how much it means to him that she has stayed with him through everything they have been through. That she hasn’t given up on him. “I love you.” It isn’t enough to encompass all that he feels for her—no words in any language are enough for that—but it’s all he has for now.
And the light that shines in her eyes when he says those words to her are enough to brighten even his dark soul. Well, not so dark anymore, but that is because of her, too. “I love you, too.” She kisses him briefly. “But this bar top is cold and hard; take me to bed?”
He grins at her. “It would be my pleasure...”
The rest of the night is filled with reaffirmations of their love to the other and being with their son. And through it all, there’s a vague feeling of discomfort that he can’t quite identify the source of; all he knows is that he needs her to understand what she means to him.
Because if the worst does come to pass during the fight with Michael, his biggest regret would be not taking this time with her; not making sure she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that, while they might not get their happily ever after, she made the brief time they did have together the best in his long, hopeless life.
Notes:
If you recognized bits of the Tree of Life story from somewhere else, you'd be correct. And if you haven't read Revolution by MightBeAWriter, you're missing out. The borrowed bits were, of course, used with permission.
Chapter 28: So Be It
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The morning dawns bright and cloudless, just as every other summer morning in Los Angeles. Children pack the playgrounds, happy to be free from school for the summer break, whilst adults commute to their mind-numbing jobs, wishing they’d treasured being young while it lasted. Either way, none of the humans on Earth have any idea that in just a few short hours, the fate of their entire future for generations to come will be decided. They don’t know that if the archangel to whom they refer as St. Michael wins, life as they know it is over. Nor do they know that the angel with their best interests in mind is the Devil himself.
And let’s face it, they’d probably lose their bloody minds if they did.
Trixie is at her grandmother’s this weekend—Penelope picked her up this morning—but last night, Chloe and Lucifer made a point of extra family time. They ordered pizza, played board games, and after Lucas was in bed, watched a couple of movies. While neither Chloe nor Lucifer said it out loud, deep down, they both knew they were attempting to give Trixie a good, last memory of them all together, just in case. Every so often, Lucifer would glance over at Chloe to find her watching Trixie or Lucas as though she was memorizing every last detail of her children. He caught himself doing it, too, but it only made him even more determined that last night would not be the last family night they had; that he would ensure these moments, while beautiful, would continue for years to come.
Before Lucas was born, whilst he could have understood on some level, Lucifer wouldn’t have truly comprehended the way Chloe watched her daughter. Or held her just a bit tighter when she hugged her, or the reason she repeatedly told Trixie that she loves her when surely once or twice would be sufficient? But as he sat in the nursery, cradling his four-month-old son and humming the lullaby he composed before the fledgling’s birth...well, he gets it. If there were some way to make Lucas understand just how deeply he is loved and cherished, Lucifer would do it in an instant.
The thought of never seeing his son grow up, of never teaching him all the things Lucifer wants to teach him or doing all the things he planned to do...it physically hurts on a level Lucifer didn’t know was possible to hurt. To think that Lucas could spend the rest of his life not knowing either of his parents and wondering if they wanted him, if he was loved—it makes Lucifer want to say bugger it all and just smite his twin out of existence, rather than giving him an out and a chance to rethink this fight. While Lucifer has every confidence that he can win, it doesn’t necessarily mean that he will; one wrong move, one slight distraction...and it could result in tragedy.
After he finally left Lucas’s nursery, he found Chloe, who had already said good night to both children, sitting on the edge of their bed. The urge to try to argue against her going with him to the battle rose again, but he didn’t want to spend these last few hours of peace fighting with her; instead, he pushed her back into the pillows and spent hours showing her how much he loves her, over and over again. And then she showed him. It was one of the best nights they’ve ever had together, second only to their first.
When morning dawned, they were still entwined together, and they both had their wings out and wrapped around the other, as if they could keep one another safe that way. After breakfast, which was subdued, much to Trixie’s confusion, Lucifer retreated to his son’s nursery again, unwilling to walk away until the last moment.
Which is right now, it seems.
“Hey,” Chloe says softly from the door, her eyes shining with empathy.
Lucifer and Lucas are on the plush carpet floor, the latter propped up by pillows and reaching for different toys as they catch his attention while the former looks on in fascination. He sometimes wonders what is going on in that tiny brain of Lucas’s, what he makes of the world around him. And he’s tempted to just stay here until he figures out the answer.
“Hey,” he murmurs, unwilling to take his eyes off the fledgling.
“Mind if I join you?”
He shakes his head and a moment later, Chloe is sitting cross-legged beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. Reflexively, he leans down to press a kiss to her hair, smiling slightly at the contented hum she makes when he does. “Did you see your mother and the Urchin off?”
She nods, watching their son reach for a stuffed bear. They both laugh softly when the bear’s ear goes straight into Lucas’s mouth. “Yep. And Amelia is here to watch Lucas.”
His heart sinks. If the nanny is here, it means it really is time to depart. “Right, then...”
“We can do this, Lucifer,” Chloe whispers. He can hear the tears in her voice that she’s trying to hold back. “We have to.”
He wants to tell her that they absolutely will. That Michael is no match for them together. And that everything will work out exactly as they hope it will. But he promised to never lie, especially not to her, and the truth is, he doesn’t know. So he makes some sort of noncommittal sound that he knows she will see right through, but won’t call him out on. She is just as scared, after all.
“I suppose we should go,” he says after several minutes, wondering if he’s ever felt so reluctant. He doesn't think so.
“Yeah...”
Sighing, he climbs to his feet and holds a hand out to help her up, then leans down for Lucas. The baby squeals in protest at being separated from his toys, but instantly decides playing with his father’s freshly trimmed beard is more fun, anyway. He enjoys running his little palms across it, and Lucifer doesn’t even care that Lucas’s hands are just the faintest bit sticky. “All right, Gremlin, do be good for Miss Amelia, hmm?”
Chloe bites back a laugh. “Wow, you are such a dad... Who ever thought you would tell somebody to be good?” she teases.
“You didn’t allow me to finish, Detective,” he says primly, turning back to Lucas. “But if you do misbehave, be sure not to get caught.”
“That’s more like it...”
Lucifer’s smirk falters as he presses a kiss to his son’s unruly curls, so much like his own. “I love you, Lucas, do not ever forget that,” he whispers fiercely, unable to stop his eyes from burning with emotion.
Chloe looks away, as if giving them some privacy for their father-son moment, and he can see her surreptitiously wipe away her own tears. He makes her laugh when he blows a raspberry against Lucas’s cheek that makes him giggle, unable to resist the sound of their son’s infectious joy. Then she holds her hands out, giving him a gimme now gesture. “Hand him over, Satan. My turn.”
He does, then busies himself with putting Lucas’s toys in the little toy box in the corner; she deserves some private time with him, too. And he pretends he can’t hear her increasingly emotional words about how much she loves Lucas, and how they’ll be home as soon as they can. He thinks he might break if he pays too close attention.
After handing Lucas over to his nanny, following more kisses and hugs for the fledgling, Chloe and Lucifer head out to the balcony. They debated how to travel to where the fight is being held, but decided the easiest mode of transport would be to fly. Lucifer wanted to drive, only because it would prolong their time together before this thing begins, where it’s just them—Chloe and Lucifer, the Detective and her Devil—a little longer. But Chloe is ever-practical, sometimes to an annoying degree, and really, the idea of flying at her side to a celestial battle is quite appealing.
“You have everything, yes?” He frets at the last minute. “Your sword? Demon blade? Hell-forged bullets?”
She gives him a knowing look. “Yes, dear, I have everything.” She lifts the flap of her black leather jacket—the one he loved seeing her in even before they were a couple. She shows him where the sword hangs on one side of her body, her gun on the other, and her more compact hell-forged blade, given to her by Maze, is hidden by her shirt.
Lucifer reaches out to run a finger across the basalt pommel of the short sword—the one forged using one of his primary feathers, specifically for her. When he was in Hell with Maze crafting it, he wanted her to have protection, but desperately hoped she would never have to use it for real. Now, he’s glad he thought of it, and that she was willing to learn to use it; Maze was quite impressed with Chloe’s progress during those lessons, and she is not easy to impress when it comes to fighting.
“What about you? Do you have...”
He opens his jacket so that she can easily see the hilt of Azrael’s blade, then tugs his shirt collar aside, showing her the chain with the key on it. “I’m all set. Michael may have the numbers, but between this and my Lightbringer abilities...well. He’d be a fool to go through with today.”
“Maybe, but even if he does back down today, he’s never going to just give up,” Chloe says grimly.
And she does have a point. “Here.” He reaches beneath his shirt and removes the necklace from himself. “I want you to hold onto this.”
She furrows her eyebrows in confusion. “Me? Why...?”
“He’ll expect me to have it. And if something happens, if he gets the blade from me, I don’t want him to have the means with which to light it. He won’t be able to, since I’m the Lightbringer and the only one capable, but I don’t want him to have all the pieces. And there’s no one I trust more than you, Detective.”
Chloe looks between the key and him. “You’re sure?”
He nods. “I am. Call it an ‘in case of emergency’.”
She presses her lips together grimly and nods, taking the key and putting it over her head, then tucking it beneath her shirt. “Ready?” She unfurls her wings.
As he’s done since the first time he ever saw them, Lucifer stares at her blue wings in amazement. He can still clearly remember the night they came in, back when they were fluffy, white fledgling wings. How he sat vigil over her after she passed out from the pain and exertion of their first manifestation to the Earthly plane, worrying about what it would mean for her to even have wings in the first place. And he worried about how she would react to them. She always loved his wings, but it is something else entirely for a human to grow their own, not that it's ever happened. But she accepted them, far more easily than he could have anticipated, minus one or two little panic attacks.
And now she’s an angel.
“My angel,” he murmurs, smiling softly at the way they shimmer in the morning sun. He shrugs open his own wings and they stretch out, eager for him to get into the sky.
“My Lightbringer,” she says in the same tone, her eyes shining with love and devotion.
“Shall we, Detective?”
She straightens her shoulders, the feathers of her wings fluttering with anticipation. “Let’s do this, Satan.” Then she grins mischievously. “Race you...”
Chloe is in the air before he fully processes her words. “That little minx...” he grumbles, flapping his wings to chase after her laughter. Of course, he’s been flying longer than she, and he wasn’t considered the fastest angel in the Silver City for nothing, so he quickly catches up with her, switching to prayer so they don’t have to shout over the wind.
Do you know, I don’t believe I ever told you how much I enjoy it when you call me that?
She gives him a curious look. What, ‘Satan’? They left earlier than necessary intentionally, so they slow down their flight, enjoying just being in the air. They really ought to do this more often. He nods in answer to her question. And here I thought you were tolerant of it at best. Ambivalent, even.
No, I quite like it.
Why?
He hesitates to answer, mostly because he hasn’t really thought about the why of it. I suppose it’s because...when others call me it, it’s intended as an insult; it’s derogatory. Satan—evil incarnate, a hostile, destructive force whose only desire is chaos and death. Or for those Satanist knobheads, they believe in some idea of me that is entirely false and worship that idea. And worship is definitely more my father's bag.
For you, though, Detective... You always say it with such affection. Even when you’re teasing me about something, I know you don’t mean it the way they do. He smiles at her reverently. Because you love me. Because you accept even that side of me I so dislike. And you make me more accepting of myself; you make me like myself, which is something I’ve not done for...a very, very long time. If ever.
Her hand covers her heart, eyes shining with tears. I do love you. With all my heart and soul, Lucifer. And I’ve always accepted you.
I know.
It’s a concept he’s struggled to comprehend in their time together, from the first time she kissed him on the beach. And while he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to understand why, he at least finally understands that she does—both loves and accepts him. Because it’s precisely the way he feels about her.
And in case you didn’t know...I love you, too, Detective. He lets what he feels for her bleed into their connection and can hear her gasp even over the wind rushing past his ears.
Tears of elation glisten in her eyes. Yeah, you’ve told me once or twice. Her teasing words are belied by her own feelings sent to him. His breath catches in his chest when he feels it, and he wishes he had the words to describe it. The unequivocal love and affection he’s seen in her eyes; the feeling that there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, just as he feels for her; her gratitude for just having known him these last few years. He always hoped she felt a fraction of what he feels, but this... She’s showing him that she feels exactly as strongly for him. I feel the same way.
Yes, he prays, wonder and awe in his tone. You do, don’t you?
She nods, smiling softly at him. It’s a smile he’s only ever seen her give to him; he doubts it was ever aimed even at Detective Douche when they were married, and it certainly wasn’t given to bloody Pierce.
He almost wishes she didn’t have wings, so that he could be holding her in his arms right now and could lean down to kiss her. Carefully, he maneuvers himself so that he's just close enough that he can connect their lips. He reminds himself to keep it brief, lest one of them lose their concentration and they go falling right out of the sky—if they hit the ground hard enough, Michael won’t need a fight to win Godhood.
The rest of the flight is filled with laughter and teasing, with no mentions of the coming battle or the possible repercussions of failure. Lucifer can see his own joy of flying reflected in Chloe’s eyes as her ponytail whips out behind her. She’s improved so much with flying since that first day in Carmel when he was teaching her and she was getting increasingly frustrated with being unable to get the hang of it. Her wing movements now are smooth and even, and she looks as though she’s been flying all her life. Lucifer couldn’t be prouder of her.
It is with great reluctance that they touch down in the parking lot of Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum—Lucifer reaches out automatically to catch Chloe when she stumbles; she still has a bit of trouble with landing. Why Michael chose here of all places to have a celestial showdown, Lucifer will never know.
Chloe looks around with raised eyebrows. “Huh. So. This is where he wants to have an angelic battle—it’s quaint.” Shaking her head in bemusement, she starts towards the entrance.
Lucifer quickly shoots out a hand to grab one of hers, stopping her. She turns to him quizzically. He wants to tell her so many things, but none of them want to move past the lump forming in his throat, so instead, he cradles her face in his hands and kisses her thoroughly. Her hands reach up to encircle his wrists, not hesitating to return his kiss. He can practically taste the apprehension on her tongue and he takes it from her, leaving her with his need for her in its place. She hums a faint protest as he retreats from her. He rests his forehead against hers, his thumbs brushing along her temples.
“For what it’s worth,” he murmurs softly, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. He will never tire of looking into her eyes. “There’s no one else I’d rather do this with.”
She smiles tenderly at him and no other words are needed from either of them.
Hand in hand, they stroll towards the entrance, only releasing each other when they step through the main archway. Amenadiel, Maze, and Eve are waiting for them, talking quietly. The angel’s arms are crossed and he has that expression of fierce determination. The demon is leaning against a column, outwardly looking bored as she flips one of her blades in her hand, but Lucifer knows her well enough by now to see she’s at least a little nervous, even if it’s only for Eve’s well-being. The First Woman herself is shifting from foot to foot with uneasy energy.
“Finally. What took you two so long?” Maze snarls.
“What the bloody hell are you on about? We’re still half an hour early for this...farce,” Lucifer scoffs, adjusting the hem of his suit. “Speaking of, has anybody else arrived yet?”
Amenadiel shakes his head. “No, you’re the only angels who’ve flown in. Which is not reassuring, because Zadkiel and Remiel are supposed to meet us.”
Lucifer lifts a surprised eyebrow. “Remiel? You actually managed to convince your little clone to fight on behalf of the Adversary? Well done, brother, I am impressed.”
His brother makes a face. “More that she’s fighting on my behalf...and against Michael’s. She isn’t thrilled about your involvement, Luci.”
The Devil scoffs. “And here, I was going to give back her spear and everything. I think I really will keep it now.”
Amenadiel rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “We’re all on the same side, here. She’s agreed to fight for us, and that is all that matters.”
No, what matters is that Chloe and I get to see our children tonight. We are so taking a vacation after this...
“Sorry we’re late,” says a voice behind him. He spins around to find Zadkiel and Remiel, the former with his trademark Tree of Life staff, and the latter carrying a new spear. “We got caught up in the leaving of Michael and his band of fighters.”
“Nothing like leaving it to the last minute, is there,” Lucifer snarks tersely.
Amenadiel sends him a look. “What Lucifer means is, thank you, for assisting us,” he says diplomatically. “We need all the angels we can get on our side.” Lucifer suspects that the last half of his brother’s statement was aimed at him.
He stifles the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, that is, of course, what I mean,” he says pleasantly. “Remiel. You’re looking...cross. But I suppose that is your default setting, is it not?”
The huntress angel curls her lip at him, sending an equally derisive look at Chloe. “Was this the best army you could assemble? I do not favor our chances.”
Bristling, Lucifer exchanges a look with Mazikeen, a silent question in his eyes. She gives him a minuscule nod, and some of the tension in his shoulders eases. He turns back to his sister. “We still have a thing or two up our sleeves,” he says lightly.
Remiel’s eyes narrow and she starts to retort, but she’s cut off by the sounds of several pairs of large wings flapping above the coliseum. Lucifer turns and looks up to see at least a dozen angels circling, then coming in for a landing at the far end, and in the lead is Michael in his Game of Thrones armor. Lucifer has a brief, unpleasant flashback of the day he was tossed out of Heaven by his twin wearing that exact armor; and he suspects it was a deliberate choice to remind him of it.
Bastard.
The tension returns to Lucifer’s shoulders. And it’s brought friends. Bloody hell, he’s going to need one of Chloe’s back massages after all of this. Or perhaps he’ll simply treat them both to a spa day. That sounds positively divine.
“Are we ready, brother?” Amenadiel asks quietly, staring down the field towards their other siblings.
Lucifer takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, glancing questioningly at Chloe. Are you, Detective?
Her shoulders are squared, spine straight, chin tilted defiantly, and she has that no-nonsense, cut the bullshit expression on her face that she wears while facing down the worst criminals Los Angeles has to offer. I’m ready, she answers, and even in prayer she sounds formidable. You?
Not particularly, but I assume it’s too late to back out now, yes? Her lips twitch and she nods slightly. Lucifer sighs resignedly. “Then I’m ready,” he says to everyone. He lifts his hand, fingers curled into a fist, in Amenadiel’s direction. His brother tenses his jaw and bumps Lucifer’s fist with his own in solidarity. Lucifer looks around from Chloe to Maze and Eve, then to Remiel and Zadkiel. Any casualness or disdain for Lucifer has vanished from the angels’ expressions; they may not particularly like him, but they’re here, fighting for their freedom as much as humanity’s. “Let’s do this.”
Lucifer confidently strides forward, Chloe slightly behind him at his left, Amenadiel the same at his right. The others bring up the rear. His eyes scan the empty risers encircling the coliseum carefully, suppressing a smirk when he sees what he’s searching for.
A last resort, he tells himself. Only if a battle breaks out.
Chloe’s eyes are doing the same. She blinks a few times. Are those...
Demons? Yes.
He and Maze went back to Hell yesterday afternoon to gather an army of their own. It surprised him when so many volunteered to fight for him, but he’d only chosen the ones he and Maze were certain would actually follow commands. The ones who wouldn’t try to sneak off for a bit of demonic tomfoolery on Earth. Amenadiel hadn’t been thrilled by the decision, but when Lucifer reminded him what would happen to not only Lucas but to Emily as well should Michael take the throne...well. It had been an easy sell after that.
They’re currently hiding in the risers, awaiting Lucifer’s signal, and once unleashed, they are not to have mercy—not that demons know the meaning of the word, of course. He doesn’t want any of his siblings, or anybody else, for that matter, to die, but he’s said it before, and he will say it a million times more: Anybody who comes between him and the safety of his family will not be spared.
“Well, look who actually showed up,” Michael says with a smirk, eyeing their small group. His eyes widen a touch at the sight of the two extra angels. “And you managed to convince somebody from Heaven to die with you? I am impressed. Are you ready to bend the knee?”
“Do you hear him?” Lucifer asks, addressing the angels gathered behind Michael. “He is willing to kill angels to get what he desires, his own siblings.”
A muscle in Michael’s jaw twitches. “You’d know all about killing siblings, wouldn’t you, brother?” he sneers.
Just like the last times Michael brought up Uriel, it’s done in the hopes of pulling on Lucifer’s guilt. But Lucifer has come to terms with that. He hates it, the guilt and grief nearly destroyed him, but he did what he had to do. Exactly as he will do today. “Only siblings who do not know when to stand down,” he says coldly, meeting his twin’s dark gaze. Despite being identical, Michael’s eyes have always been a couple shades darker than Lucifer’s, nearly black—like his soul... “And what are you wearing?” He laughs sardonically. “Is winter coming or something?”
Michael’s eye twitches in annoyance. “Very funny. But I only bring this out on special occasions. I think you’ll remember the last time?”
“Oh, yes, such a delightful event,” Lucifer says sarcastically. “As for bending the knee... I'm afraid there's been a slight change of plan. Amenadiel and I have decided we will be taking over as co-Gods, and we will give you one last chance, Michael: End this farce or face the consequences. We’ll even allow you to go stay with Mum and Dad. They'll be expecting you.” Or they will be when Lucifer opens the portal and kicks his twin’s exquisite derriere through it.
Michael laughs. The angels behind him join in belatedly and nervously when he looks around at them. “You really expect me to take you up on that? Why would I want to go live with centaurs and kelpies?”
“There’s dragons, too, “ Lucifer offers cheerfully. “You’d fit right in, brother!”
“I just got out from under Dad’s thumb; I’m not about to put myself under it again. Or Mom’s. I want this universe. Maybe I’ll even spare your little girlfriend and that brat of yours—I need a queen and an heir.”
Chloe stiffens, her glare hardening, and her eyes flash with blue light. Michael actually takes a shocked step back. Murmurs break out amongst the angels behind him, all of them craning their necks to get a look at her. “As if I’d let you touch me,” she says coldly. “Or let you near my son.”
Michael recovers quickly, shrugging his good shoulder. “You let Evil Incarnate, over there, why not me?” He grins in what’s probably meant to be a charming way, clearly copying Lucifer’s smile, and fails. It just makes him look more like a creep.
Maze growls under her breath. Lucifer lifts a hand to keep her from rushing forward and attacking too soon. “You wouldn’t know what to do with the Detective, even if she did allow you near her,” he says smoothly, tamping down the urge to smite Michael where he stands. “In fact, I’m not even sure you’d know what to do with any woman.”
“As if I’d willingly touch one of those filthy humans; I’m not like you and Amenadiel.”
“That explains a lot,” Chloe mutters under her breath.
Lucifer’s lips twitch. Indeed...
Michael glares at her. “Yes, that’s funny. Very, very funny. I have the numbers; you have, what? A demon, a former human, a human who should be in Heaven still, and a couple lowly, Heavenly turncoats. Why do you have to fight the inevitable?”
“It’s the only way I know how to fight,” Lucifer says quietly, meeting his twin’s gaze steadily. From the moment he looked God in the eye and dared to say no, to the first time he landed in Hell and faced off with the creatures he discovered there...right up until now, he feels as though all he’s done is fight. Lately, it’s been fighting to keep the happiness he’s found. And he isn’t about to back down now. “I demand a vote.”
Michael laughs. “Seriously?” he asks, clearly believing he has the high ground and the support. “All right, fine. Fine!” He looks around at the angels he’s brought with him. Faintly, Lucifer wonders if these were just the siblings who most support his twin, and where the rest of them are. “Who here is not voting for me?”
There is complete silence as Michael looks around again, daring the other angels to oppose him. Nobody does, but they do avert their eyes from Michael. Suddenly, Lucifer understands how his twin has gotten the support of Heaven—he should have realized it before.
“I said, is anyone here not voting for me?” Michael asks again, raising his voice to be clearly heard.
“Well, that’s it? That’s your speech, is it?”
Michael gives him a little smirk. “I think I’ve said all I need to.”
Lucifer shakes his head, scoffing. “Typical Michael: All fear and no substance.”
He turns his attention to the other angels. He has one chance here to avoid a fight—to avoid bloodshed. There is not one cell in his body that desires to use the flaming sword ever again; he may have come to terms with it, but he doesn’t want another Uriel situation.
“Brothers and sisters. I know what you all desire.” He slides his hands into his pockets, tilting his head to the side slightly—the way he would when using his mojo. “And I know it’s not me as God! Even in a co-managerial capacity, I know none of you desire my return to Heaven. But I also know you don’t want him, either.” He points at his glaring twin. “So you have a difficult decision to make. Everyone knows what Michael’s all about: fear. He’s gotten into your heads, convinced you that he possesses the flaming sword. Well, good news on that front...”
Lucifer reaches into his jacket and removes Azrael’s blade, the Healing medallion fixed into place. His eyes dart briefly towards Chloe where he can see the key around her neck lifting beneath her shirt, straining closer to the blade, as though its greatest desire is to be reunited and complete itself, turning it into the flaming sword once more.
Gasps erupt amongst the angels, along with looks of fear, as though they fully expect Lucifer to just start slaughtering them all without provocation. His heart aches at the sight of those looks, and he’s annoyed and confused as to why; after all, he’s known for ages how his family sees him now: The Adversary, The Enemy, and all of the other creative labels they’ve slapped on his forehead since his Fall. But he’d thought he’d grown to a point where he doesn’t care about what they think of him. It would seem otherwise.
The only satisfaction Lucifer gains from any part of this moment is the look of stunned fear on his twin’s face; Michael never knew he had the sword.
“It would seem Michael and I had the same thought. Only, his desire was to cut me down with it, whereas I wish to avoid bloodshed at all costs, and I’ve no desire to use this against anybody, let alone my own flesh and blood,” Lucifer tells them over the murmuring. One or two of them are edging away from the crowd, as though they intend to sneak back to Heaven. “Unlike my twin, I do not lie, and you know this about me, despite what he has spread amongst humanity—and amongst you.
“But for those of you who have missed the news, I’ve a family of my own now,” he says, unable to resist the slightly disbelieving smile on his lips anytime he says it out loud. “A son of my own, and people who love me and who I love in return. And that is why I am here today: To ensure that their futures are assured. That my son grows up with free will and the ability to choose how to live his own life, however he desires to live it. Because as it turns out, dear siblings, we have always had free will, something that came from our father’s own lips that we always believed we didn’t possess.
“This means that you have the free will to choose who you want as your new God: An angel who would rule you with fear as his main motivator, because it is all he knows; because he has never bothered trying to live a life outside of Heaven. Or two angels who simply wish to keep their families safe; who will have your best interests at heart. And whose motivation is love—of our children and our partners, but also for you. We do not seek power for power’s sake—unlike Michael. We seek it to preserve the future, to make the universe a better place than it has been. For all of us
“You want to know the real reason I desire to be God? Well, here it is: I wish for my son to grow up happy and free rather than living in fear beneath a tyrant’s rule. I desire for him to have what none of us had growing up: The knowledge that he is loved and that he can do anything he puts his mind towards. Whether he lives on Earth or in the Silver City, or on Mars when his sister becomes President, it will have been his choice. And with Amenadiel and myself in charge, that is something nobody will ever be able to take from him. And it will be yours as well, should you desire to make use of it.
“But if you stand by Michael...if he becomes God...we’re all damned, and that is not something I can abide.”
There is dead silence at the end of Lucifer’s speech, not even the birds are singing in the distance. Several of his siblings have furrowed eyebrows or frowns on their faces as they think over what he’s just told them. For a moment, Lucifer feels hopeful that they can get through this without shedding a drop of blood. Michael looks positively livid; they both know which of the two of them is the more persuasive twin, and he is clearly worrying about how this is going to go in the next few minutes.
That was an amazing, beautiful speech, Lucifer.
He glances over at Chloe briefly to find her eyes bright and a small smile on her lips that he returns. I meant every word.
I know you did.
Lucifer turns back to his siblings and sees Michael looking between them with his own furrowed eyebrows. Then he sneers, incensed; he knows he’s losing. “This is a waste of time! We’ll settle this the old-fashioned way: One-on-one combat, with no soul-eating blades. Or fancy Lightbringer smiting powers. Winner takes all; loser...well, loses all.”
Lucifer expected this. Michael is a coward at the best of times, and in the face of the Lightbringer with the flaming sword...well. It’s a wonder he hasn’t turned tail and run back to Heaven; which means he thinks he can win this fight. But Lucifer has something his twin doesn’t: Something to fight for. Everything he spoke about in his speech and more.
Michael is doing this for power; Lucifer is doing this for love.
Lucifer has experienced both in his long life, so he knows which one is more formidable.
“Geminae versus Geminae,” Lucifer says, pretending to be surprised by the suggestion. “Well, I suppose it would be too easy to simply declare myself victorious, wouldn’t it?”
“Lucifer, what are you doing?” Amenadiel hisses out of the corner of his mouth.
Lucifer stifles the urge to roll his eyes. “Trust me, brother,” he utters through a smile, then hands Amenadiel the blade. “If you would be so kind...”
Lucifer...
It’s all right, love. I was expecting this to happen. Michael would never take us all on, even if he has the numbers. And he would want to prove that I’m weak without the sword. I’ve got this. He ignores the voice in the back of his head hissing that those are famous last words.
“You might want to tell your girlfriend to leave,” Michael suggests. “Wouldn’t want her pretty new wings to get ruffled, would we?”
Lucifer sees Chloe glare at him, but she doesn’t bother to respond. “I think you’ll find the Detective is far more formidable than you believe,” he says loftily.
He reaches into his pocket opposite of where he kept the flaming sword, removing the dagger that had, a very long time ago, been forged by Michael himself—a congratulatory gift for Samael when he was first chosen to paint the night sky with stars. It went missing a short while before his banishment and subsequent Fall, only to turn up in the hands of Father William Kinley—along with the truth of the prophecy.
Michael’s eyes flash with recognition at the sight of it and his mouth tightens. “Well, I see you found my little gift.”
“Yes. How kind of you to return it to me,” Lucifer says dryly. “Any particular reason you released celestial steel into the hands of a human?” Michael’s eyes dart between Lucifer and their siblings, and he doesn’t answer the question. “The usual angelic duel golden rules apply, I assume?”
Michael smirks. “No rules,” he says, his dark eyes glittering with malice. “And when I win, your life...is forfeit.”
Lucifer’s easy going demeanor falters infinitesimally, and his eyes reflexively dart towards Chloe, who is watching him with fear in her eyes at the proclamation. Michael had stated as much in the message that he sent Lucifer via Gabriel, but even with it in writing, Lucifer hadn’t expected his twin to want to go through with it. But now, looking into Michael’s eyes, he can see the viciousness in them, and he knows he meant every word. He half-expects Chloe to beg him not to do this; to end this charade by smiting Michael. Instead, a confidence and determination fills her expression—confidence that he can do this in his family’s name and win. The fear is still prevalent, but she supports and believes in him, and that’s all he needs.
“Yes, well, when I win, you’ll be on your way to Mummy and Daddy for the rest of eternity,” Lucifer counters, turning back to Michael.
His twin rolls his eyes. “Do you agree to the terms or not?”
Lucifer's expression hardens and he juts his chin defiantly. “So be it.”
Without waiting for a response, Lucifer punches his twin in the face, something he’s wanted to do since Michael was dragging him through the streets of the Silver City to face their father. He follows that up with a backhand to the other side of Michael’s face and a forceful palm to his solar plexus. Michael is only momentarily stunned, removing his own sword from the belt at his waist and swinging it out towards Lucifer clumsily. The Devil easily ducks the move, dancing smoothly out of Michael’s way and looking for a weak spot, one that would allow him to use his dagger.
Michael swings again, more gracefully this time at Lucifer’s lower abdomen—he avoids the first swipe of the sword, but the second catches him and he bites back a grunt of pain. He takes a moment to look down at the blood seeping through his black waistcoat, to silently curse the burning shooting throughout his body. That's enough time for Michael to get in a punch to the Devil’s face, then a kick that knocks him backwards down to the ground.
Lucifer scurries backwards, away from Michael and as he begins his approach again, he hears Amenadiel’s voice calling out to him. “Lucifer!”
He looks up to see Zadkiel’s staff coming towards him. Climbing to his feet, he catches it, unthinkingly dropping his dagger, and blocking Michael’s sword just before it stabs him through the heart. Lucifer laughs in both relief and success, pushing back against Michael and his sword.
“Oh, ho-ho-ho-ho! My brother has a stick, whatever shall I do?” Michael says mockingly.
Lucifer headbutts him, then uses the staff like a baseball bat, swinging it at Michael's head. He grunts in pain and falls back, catching himself with his wings and taking the fight to the air. Lucifer unfurls his wings and follows.
Michael immediately begins attacking again, Lucifer blocking every swing of the sword. The Devil gets a few good jabs in with the staff. Michael is grunting with effort, his expression one of pure hatred. A memory plays in his mind, of the two of them, newly created angels, running around the Silver City and laughing with each other, identical carefree smiles on their lips. Lucifer doesn’t know when those smiles changed to sneers or when the love between them turned to jealousy and hostility.
Lucifer flies up higher, kicking out at Michael as he goes. Michael follows. Sparks fly from his sword as the forceful swings meet the staff.
“Give it up, Lucifer, you’ll never win.”
“I’m the Lightbringer, brother,” he says cockily, “I always win.”
He shoots off towards a higher part of the coliseum, knowing Michael will follow. His twin’s expression is twisted with contempt when Lucifer turns to face him and he swings back his sword, bringing it down savagely. Lucifer lifts the staff between his hands to block it—
—and it breaks in half. He feels his stomach drop, and for the first time, he fears that he won’t be able to win this. And when Michael’s foot connects with Lucifer’s chest, he loses his concentration with his wings and falls, slamming into the ground.
All of the breath is momentarily knocked out of him and he is suddenly grateful he is no longer physically vulnerable around Chloe—that would be a nightmare. Before he gets a chance to shake it off, he hears the flapping of wings and a pair of boots landing nearby. Lucifer turns and finds Michael, a malicious, triumphant grin on his face as he lifts his sword.
“Time to say goodbye, Samael.”
Lucifer suddenly has a flash of everything he is going to miss in the future—Chloe’s smiles and love; seeing Trixie grow from a mischievous young girl to a successful woman; everything with his son. Michael’s sword may not permanently kill him, but he will be trapped in Hell after his brother takes over as God.
Not on my watch...
He climbs to his knees and catches the sword at the hilt, and a battle of wills commences. Michael has the higher ground, but Lucifer has the determination; the desperation. He grits his teeth, holding his twin off with all his might, but the blade is sinking lower and lower.
By your right foot!
He doesn’t stop to wonder what Chloe’s prayer means, but instead reaches down by his right foot, and his hand touches basalt. His fingers wrap around the hilt of Chloe’s short sword and he uses the pommel end, slamming it into Michael’s gut.
“Oof,” Michael grunts, doubling over. And when he does, Lucifer jumps to his feet, using one to kick his brother into a far column of the coliseum.
It gives him enough time to catch his breath and to see that a fight has broken out between the angels and demons. He can see Chloe in the thick of it, wings out, as she shoots angels—in the shoulder or the leg, but never to kill—and swings her sword when someone gets too close. She’s holding her own, and Lucifer couldn’t be prouder of her.
Then the smile dies on his lips as he watches Michael land behind her, a familiar dagger in his hand, the blade glinting in the sunlight. “No...” he breathes, then much louder, “CHLOE!”
She turns at the sound of his agonized shout, but doesn’t get a chance to shoot Michael before he’s burying the dagger in her stomach. Even from here, Lucifer can see the shock on her face as she looks down at the hilt, Michael’s hand wrapped around it. He twists then yanks the dagger out of her body and she drops to her knees, her wings retracting on their own.
“NO!”
Lucifer’s wings are unfurled and he’s beside her before he even registers moving. He can barely see through the tears already streaming down his cheeks, but he manages to catch her before she falls to the ground, cradling her to his chest. Looking wildly from her face to the profusely bleeding wound in her abdomen, he tries to think of how to fix this. How to keep her here with him.
“No. Nononono, Chloe, no...”
It doesn’t matter that she is immortal and an angel; she will still go to Heaven, and though his father said that the gates are open to him again, he also said that Lucifer shouldn’t attempt it until he’s “feeling better about himself”, whatever the bloody hell that means. But all Lucifer heard was that the carrot was dangled, and he’ll still burn to a crisp if he tries—which means he can’t follow Chloe. She’ll be able to come back, but only if she can work out how to self-actualize a new body, but in the meantime...
“Chloe, please...”
She’s gasping for breath, their joined hands pressing down against the wound in her belly that is pouring blood through their fingers. “Luc’fer...” she gasps brokenly. And he wants to tell her to save her breath and energy for healing, but he can’t get the words out past the sobs in his throat. “Take care...babies... Tell ‘em...I love them.”
“Tell them yourself,” he begs her, leaning down when she reaches up to cup his cheek. Her hand is trembling against his skin, and he covers it with his own, giving her whatever strength she needs. She can have it all; it’s always been hers and it always will be hers. If it saves her now, he’ll give her his entire lifeforce.
He’s felt this pain before—the first time she died, when one of Cain’s men killed her. And back then, they didn’t know that she was immortal or that she would become an angel, and both of those things should be a comfort for him, but all he can think is that he’s going to lose her; that Trixie and Lucas will lose their mother.
He doesn’t see Michael smirking at him. Doesn’t see the angels or demons gathering around them, or anybody but her. She is all that matters, all that has ever mattered—his entire world. Lucifer doesn’t care about the rest of them; he doesn’t care about the war or who will be God. Everything he cares about is in his arms—and he’s losing her.
“Stay with me, Chloe, please,” he begs brokenly, turning his head to press his lips against her palm.
“I love you,” she breathes raggedly, looking up at him through a grimace of pain. Her eyes are already fading, he can see her light dimming, but he can still see the love in them. “Love you...so much.”
He shakes his head, feeling his soul being ripped apart as she takes it with her. “I love you, too, which is why I need you to stay... Please stay...” He unfurls his wings and reaches back blindly, not caring about the blood he’s covering them with, and rips out the first handful of feathers he can find.
“Love...you...”
Lucifer looks down at her as her eyelids begin to slide closed and presses the feathers to her wound. “Don’t do this, Detective! Stay, please, stay I need you please I love you stay...” He mutters mindlessly, barely registering what he’s saying, because he’s realizing...his feathers aren’t working. Just like they didn’t work that night in Cain’s factory. “...no...”
He knows why it didn’t work, because he felt her soul leave, and this time she took part of his, and his heart, with her.
He doesn’t recognize that the inhuman wail of despair echoing off the coliseum walls has come from him; only that his heart is gone, and who knows how long it will be before he sees her again. If he sees her again. And he’s forgotten what it’s like to be without her for more than a few hours; forgotten how it feels to not constantly sense her presence. It feels like a thousand knives are stabbing him, the blades twisting.
Curling over her, he holds her close, pressing his forehead to hers as he sobs and cries and begs her to come back. But there’s nothing left of her here. And what is he going to tell the children? How is he supposed to face them, either of them, knowing he led their mother to her death? He knows Chloe would tell him this isn’t his fault, but he knows that of course it’s his bloody fault, it’s always his bloody fault.
Chloe, please... Come back...
He waits for her to return his prayer, for some hint of their connection—why can’t he feel her? Celestial steel or not, she should be in Heaven, still within the universe, and she told him that she heard his prayer right before he came from Hell that one time; she should be able to hear him—
“I told you to send her away.” He faintly hears Michael’s uneasy words. “She’s an angel, she’s in Heaven. Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”
His twin knows nothing about his connection with Chloe, his love for Chloe and vice versa. “This isn’t right... We’re supposed to have eternity together...” They had so many plans, so many adventures they wanted to go on, starting with their wedding and honeymoon to Tuscany. It’s the only place he can imagine taking her, and she deserves to see it. “She deserves to see her children grow up...”
“What are you muttering about?”
He lifts his head, still cradling her to his chest and looks up at the clear blue sky, searching for his love. “I’m getting her back.”
“But...you’ll die if you go back to Heaven,” Michael says, like he can’t possibly comprehend why somebody would want to risk their life for another. And he probably can’t comprehend it. He’s lived his life in fear, in the shadows, never knowing what true love feels like.
Lucifer, however, does know what it feels like, because Chloe Decker showed him. She has given him so much, his wonderful, clever, brave, perfect Detective. And now he’s going to show her what she means to him. Gently, he lays Chloe’s body back onto the ground, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I’m coming, my love,” he breathes into her skin. Then he climbs to his feet, meeting Michael’s bemused gaze, addressing his last statement about dying upon his return to Heaven through gritted teeth. “So. Be. It.”
And for the first time since his banishment, billions of years ago for him, Lucifer returns to the Silver City.
Notes:
[insert whistling innocently GIF here...]
Fun fact: I actually, belatedly, came up with an alternate ending for this chapter, and even wrote most of it out, but too much would have changed in the rest of the story as well as the next part of the series. It was good, though...
Chapter 29: Tastes Like Home
Chapter Text
Chloe doesn’t remember ever smiling or laughing as much as she’s done in the last few hours sitting on a picnic blanket across from her father. To her right is the most beautiful view of a huge, clear, smooth lake and in the distance, snow-capped, rocky mountains. The weather is perfect—it’s always so perfect here—and she’s never felt happier or more at peace.
Her smile falters. There’s something trying to pull at her mind, along with a voice telling her how very wrong she is, and it isn’t the first time she’s heard it. But every time she tries to examine the voice, coming from behind a sort of veil in her mind, something here distracts her. A bird chirping in the distance. Laughter from children playing nearby—which makes her chest ache for some other reason. Or her mind simply redirects her thoughts. Whatever is beyond that veil, though, makes her heart beat faster, her breath hitch in her chest, her eyes sting. It makes her soul ache. She tries again, mentally reaching for the edges of her conscious thoughts—
“Tell me about being a detective, Monkey!” John Decker says happily, his voice brimming with pride for his daughter.
Yet again, she’s yanked away from the thoughts, turning back to her dad. “Oh, it’s amazing, Dad. Challenging and frustrating, sometimes, but so rewarding. My partner and I have helped so many people over the years.” Her heart twists painfully, practically screaming at her, but she can’t pinpoint why. “It isn’t always easy, but I wouldn’t give it up for anything.”
John frowns. “Right... That, uh, partner of yours—Lucifer, was it?”
Chloe can hear the disapproval in his voice, but she’s distracted at the way her heart races at the sound of his name. When she tries to put a face to the name, though, nothing comes. “I know what you’re thinking, but, Dad, he isn’t who everyone thinks he is, not by a long shot. He’s good and kind, generous, and so sweet. He saved my life so many times, even when I was sure I was done for. He was the best partner I could ever ask for or want. He’s...incredible.”
The words come automatically and without thought, but she doesn’t know where they are coming from. She hardly has any clear memories of...of him—a thought that makes her heart squeeze like it's in a vise.
“And not just at work. He’s my best friend.” She’s a little startled when a searing tear hits her arm, and she lifts her hand to her cheeks, feeling the wetness there. “And he’s a great dad. He doesn’t really believe it, but...oh, he is so amazing with our son. And with my daughter...” Her eyebrows furrow, her eyes darting back and forth rapidly as the veil starts to gradually lift.
Memories flood through the tiny gap and start to play in her mind like a movie.
“Lucifer...Morningstar. Is that, uh, a stage name or something?”
“God-given, I’m afraid,” he says with a charming grin.
She’s on the floor of a recording studio, pain shooting from her shoulder outwards as she bleeds out. She’s dying, she knows it. And she’s going to leave her little Monkey motherless, to go through the same pain she suffered when she lost her father—
“Chloe...”
Suddenly, he’s there, the annoying nightclub owner who’s been following her around all throughout this case.
Chloe latches onto his presence, her anchor to the world. To life. “I don’t want to die.”
His eyebrows furrow as he looks at her, eyes darting rapidly between both of hers. “I won’t let you. Your father will just have to wait for you.”
She wakes up in a hospital bed, and there he is again, leaning against the railing beside her with a smile on his lips. “How long have I been out?”
He looks at her seriously and sighs. “Three years.” Then he laughs.
“You're such an ass...” She laughs with him.
She’s standing in a dark warehouse, gun drawn, having just fired a shot at Lucifer, grazing his right thigh. How stupid was she to believe his bullshit about being the Devil and invulnerable to harm? Now she’s going to get in trouble at work and she’s already in hot water with the department because of Palmetto. Chloe is so screwed.
And Lucifer is on the floor, hand pressed to his thigh, acting like he’s never seen his own blood before. He looks up at her with confusion and fear in his dark eyes. “What’s happening to me?”
“If it’s any consolation to your pride, Detective, it appears you make me vulnerable, too.”
They’re sitting side-by-side at Lucifer’s piano after Father Frank’s death. Lucifer had been far more devastated by losing the priest than Chloe would have thought him capable of, but she’s here now, because nobody should be alone after a day like today. And something told her most of his typical ‘friends’ would be useless giving real comfort. They’re playing Heart and Soul together, grinning at each other like they’ve been friends for years, instead of just a few months. Chloe can’t remember ever being this confused by another person. Or more enthralled.
Lucifer sets down the Hawaiian bread egg sandwich and takes a deep breath. She looks at him curiously as he begins to speak. “I don’t care much for my father. But you...clearly care about yours, which is why you’ve followed in his footsteps, I suppose.” He sighs and stutters a little, “W-what I’m trying to say is...” His expression, and his tone, softens. “I think he would be proud of you.”
Coming from Lucifer, especially, that means the absolute world to her, and she starts to cry.
His face falls. “My apologies, Detective, I didn’t mean to hurt you...”
Shaking her head, Chloe denies that he has; quite the opposite, actually. “No, no.” But she can’t articulate to him why it means so much to her. She can’t even explain it to herself.
And of course he’s confused, as ever, by emotions. “But then, why are you crying?”
She starts to explain, mentally tells herself ‘screw it’, and shakes her head, making her way around the stove.
“Just...shut up,”
And she hugs him. He stiffens slightly in surprise, as he does any time he’s shown any type of non-sexual, affectionate touch, but she just tightens her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his warm, solid chest. And finally, he wraps his arms around her in return, resting his cheek on top of her head.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she idly notes she might be falling for him. And how dangerous that could be.
They’re dancing in Lux as Should I Stay or Should I Go? plays around them. Lucifer’s arm is around her, his other hand holding hers as he leads her in some sort of swing dance. They seem to fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. And she doesn’t remember the last time dancing was this much fun—though she suspects it has something to do with her dancing partner. She can feel his own joy radiating off him in waves. His eyes are alight with elation, his smile as wide as her own. And for a moment, she lets herself believe that it’s because of her that he’s so happy, though she knows that can’t be the case. Her heart aches with longing.
“Lucifer Morningstar is many things, but he is not a liar.” She can see his astonishment from here at her defense of him. His lips are parted, his eyes wide. She doesn’t even think he’s breathing. “He is the best partner that I have ever had. And I only hope he can count on me as much as I count on him.” She’s too choked up to continue, devastated that this will mean her father’s killer will walk, yet at the same time, she can’t take her eyes off Lucifer. Or the soft, tender way he’s looking back at her.
They’re standing on the beach, and he’s just told her that he wants to prove himself to her.
“You deserve someone...better, and that isn’t me. Because you, Detective, are selfless to a nauseating degree. You always put your daughter first, even though the ungrateful Urchin does nothing to contribute to the rent. So,” he sighs, “you deserve someone worthy of that grace. Someone...who knows that every crime scene breaks your heart, even though you’d never admit it. Someone who appreciates your impossibly boring middle name—‘Jane’. More importantly, Detective, you deserve someone as good as you. Because...well. You’re special. And I’m...” He shakes his head and looks off towards the ocean, resignation and sadness filling his tone as he finishes, “I’m not worth it.”
And for the first time in their partnership, she is absolutely certain that he is worth it. She’s always suspected it, in those moments when he would let his guard down and she could see the man he hides behind those thick defenses. Now, she knows. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she says to herself.
She kisses him. And it’s the best kiss she’s ever experienced.
“See? I told you everything would be okay!”
She’s staring at him in amazement, and doesn’t bother hiding her relief as she throws her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. Slowly, he returns her hug, bemused though he is.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispers against his shoulder, tightening her hold on him.
“Hey...” His voice has never sounded so gentle.
She backs away, seeing the surprise in his expression and the tender look in his eyes. She wants to kiss him again. Instead, she says, “I guess we make a good team, after all, don’t we?”
He nods silently in agreement. And his eyes soften even further and fill with wonder. He’s never looked at her like this. “This is...real. Isn’t it?”
She nods, then he’s brushing some hair behind her ear, and she can’t stop from touching him, either, confirming that he really is okay. They lean forward and their foreheads touch, her hands on either side of his neck, feeling his strong, steady pulse beneath her fingers. They kissed two days ago, but this feels like the most intimate they have ever been. And it feels like the start of something truly amazing.
She’s in a hospital bed, poison coursing through her veins. Dan has just gone to get Trixie, leaving her and Lucifer alone. She doesn’t know what to say to him, but she wants to erase the fear and devastation she can see shining through the cracks in his mask as he tries to hide them from her.
“I don’t want Trixie to get scared seeing me like this. Do I look okay?”
He looks at her, his mask cracking even further, but she knows him. He gives her a soft smile. “You look...Heaven-sent.” She doesn’t understand why he sounds so sad about that.
Lucifer is on a stage playing Eternal Flame in a dingy dive bar. He’s spent this whole case trying to “prove that you need me, Detective”, after ditching her for Vegas and coming back married to a stripper. When he first showed up at the precinct, he told her that they’re ‘just friends’, and she had to pretend he wasn't shattering her heart into dust.
“Say my name
Sun shines through the rain
A whole life so lonely
And then you come and ease the pain
I don't want to lose this feeling, ohh...”
A reluctant smile tugs at her lips. He's such an idiot....but he’s her idiot.
It’s her birthday and they’re laying in Lucifer’s bed. The bullet necklace he gave her as a surprise hangs around her neck—which he put on for her—and now they’re just...talking. In a way they haven’t done since he left for Vegas, the first time, and came back married. In fact, they haven’t been this relaxed around each other since before then, either, and it feels so good to have her best friend back. He’s watching her intently, longing and something else, something deeper that she can’t (or doesn’t want to) name shining in his eyes. Or maybe, that’s all projected from her own heart.
And she is so tired of pretending that she doesn’t want him—all of him—especially when she suspects that he wants her just as much. Except, he left her after she was poisoned. And her fear of having him break her heart again is just too strong.
“Did you have a nice birthday, Detective?” he asks softly.
I am now, she thinks, absently reaching up to feel the bullet again.
“More or less,” she says out loud. “Would have been better if you were here.”
He looks away, guilt flickering across his face, which really wasn’t her intention. After a moment, he turns back, determination replacing his guilt. “Next year will be better, you have my word,” he says, eyes shining with promise.
By mutual agreement, they bring their kiss—undoubtedly, the best Chloe's ever had, not that she's going to inflate his ego by telling him that—to a close, both of them smiling like idiots. Lucifer presses his forehead against hers, closing his eyes tightly for a moment to rein himself in, and takes a deep breath. He looks at her again with stars in his eyes, and something deeper that grips at her heart and holds on.
His eyes dart between hers for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, before he whispers, lips brushing hers lightly, “I love you, Chloe.”
Laughter, game nights, kisses, making love...a thousand memories of just her and Lucifer come flooding from behind that tiny gap beneath her mind’s veil. And suddenly, she understands what this empty feeling inside her is: It’s him. Lucifer. Her partner and best friend. The love of her life and her soulmate. Her everything. And he’s missing.
“Monkey, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Her dad is leaning towards her, his hand gripping her fingers. And as much as she’s missed him, that hand isn’t the one she wants right now.
She opens her mouth and takes a breath to tell her father everything, but a voice behind her gets her attention. A voice so very dear to her that she can’t even be happy—in Heaven—because he isn’t here.
“Detective!”
Except, he is here...
Chloe whips around to see him approaching from some trees. There’s somebody behind him, but she only has eyes for the Devil. “Lucifer,” she whispers in amazement and relief, her voice breaking. She climbs to her feet and she doesn’t wait for him to draw nearer before she throws herself into his arms and kisses him desperately.
How long has she been without him? It feels like a lifetime, but she also remembers that she’s in Heaven, and didn’t he once tell her time here has a similar effect as in Hell?
He groans into her mouth, one arm wrapping tightly around her waist and the other cradling the back of her head as he kisses her back with equal need and hunger. “Chloe. My Chloe,” he breathes brokenly when they pull apart, his hand cupping her cheek. There are tears in his eyes and they press their foreheads together. “You kept me waiting, Detective. I had to come find you...” His smile is tremulous and trembling.
She suddenly remembers the promise she made to him the day of their planning session for the celestial war against Michael: That she would always come back to him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispers shakily, her fingers carding through his hair. “So sorry.”
He smiles weakly, stroking her hair, her face, anything he can reach, mapping every inch of her with his fingers. “I’ve come to get you, darling. It’s not your time, and you don’t belong here, not yet.”
The war.
“I forgot...” Her eyebrows furrowing as she tries to remember those final moments.
Lucifer shouted her name, sounding like he was being tortured. When she turned around, terrified she was going to find that he was losing his fight, Michael was there, in front of her, with Lucifer’s dagger. Before she could even aim her gun, he stabbed her, and twisted the blade. Then suddenly, she was dying in Lucifer’s arms.
Chloe gasps. “I died... The war...and our friends.” Breath hitches in her chest, the memory of two faces that are half her return to her mind.
Lucifer nods, his bottom lip trembling, eyes watery.
“I left Trixie. And Lucas...”
Lucifer nods again, swallowing hard.
She brushes a hand down his face, resting both her hands on his chest, right over his frantically beating heart. “I left you...”
Pain flares brightly in Lucifer’s eyes as he nods yet again. “Yes,” he breathes. “And we need you to come back, Detective.” He tilts his head. “I need you to come back.”
“But shouldn’t I have just...come back to life, then?”
He takes a stuttering breath. “Michael stabbed you with celestial steel, Detective. You died, and it kicked you up to Heaven. And it appears to have given you the human treatment by wiping away all your nasty memories.”
She shakes her head. “Not just the nasty ones. Lucifer, I could barely remember your name, let alone anything about you...”
Acute agony flares in his eyes, alongside confusion. He shakes it all off, pushing back his grief. “I don’t know, but we can analyze it later. Chloe, please, I need you to return with me.” His eyes dart briefly over her shoulder, his hands tightening on her waist. “Your father?” he murmurs softly. She nods. Understanding dawns in his gaze. “I’ll bring you back here to see him, you’ve my word. But right now...we need to go home, my love.”
She glances over her shoulder at her dad who has climbed to his feet and is smiling at them. “Sounds like some people on Earth still need you, Detective Decker.”
Oh, it hurts to leave him, even temporarily. She’s wanted this reunion for nearly eighteen years. “I’ll come back,” she promises, feeling tears sting her eyes. “Lucifer always keeps his word.”
“That I do.” She doesn’t know whether Lucifer’s words are more for her or for her father. “You’ll come back with me, then?”
She turns back to Lucifer at his hopeful tone, and kisses him briefly. “Of course I will,” she murmurs softly.
Lucifer breathes out a trembling sigh of relief. “Right, then. Good...”
“Wait. How are you here? I thought your dad said you could only come back when you...felt better about yourself?” she asks in confusion.
He smiles softly at her—her smile. She’s missed that smile. “Detective, nobody makes me feel better about myself than you do. Don’t you know that?” he murmurs, brushing some hair behind her ear. “But yes, I was under the impression that coming after you would mean death by conflagration for me.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “And you came, anyway?”
She half-expects an innuendo. Instead, his eyes soften impossibly further, his love for her never shining brighter than this moment. “I will always choose you, Chloe,” he says quietly, cupping her cheek. She nuzzles into it. “Because I love you.”
Turning her head, she kisses his palm. “I love you, too, Lucifer,” she whispers, then smiles. “Take me home, Satan.”
He smiles back, unfurling his wings, and kissing her again briefly. “Sir, yes, sir...” he teases, making her laugh.
When Chloe becomes aware of being back on the Earthly plane, it takes her a moment between her disorientation and the pain radiating through her body, even as it heals, to remember her conversation with Lucifer on their way out of Heaven. She probably could have flown in her own wings, but the look in Lucifer's eyes when he suggested it was so hopeful she couldn't have said no. Besides, flying in his arms is one of her favorite modes of transportation.
“I can only fly you to the edge of Heaven, Detective,” he said as he flew them high above the Silver City. Below them, tall, silver spires make up the city skyline. “You’ve only been...away less than a minute or so, so your body, immortal as it is, will pull you back in once we’re far enough away from Heaven’s influence on souls.”
She nuzzled her nose against his neck, tilting her head back to kiss him. “Less than a minute, huh? You didn’t even give me a chance to fulfill my promise.” A look of intense pain, deeper than any she’d ever seen on Lucifer’s face, filled his eyes. Her teasing smile faded and she cupped his cheek. “Lucifer?”
“Something was wrong,” he whispered, his voice agonized. “I couldn’t feel you, or your soul, and you weren’t responding to my prayers. And you died in my arms, Chloe. I wasn’t about to wait around in the hopes you would be able to remember that you’re an angel.”
Chloe hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was teasing, but it was stupid, I’m sorry...”
His jaw tightened and he shook his head. “Michael doesn’t get a choice any longer. Either he goes to Mum’s universe...or I’m killing him myself.”
“I’m fine, Lucifer.”
He shook his head, a muscle twitching in his jaw, and didn’t respond to her words. “Hold on tight, darling.”
It nearly killed him to let go of her so that her soul could return to her body, and he warned her that he needed to remain far enough away from her not to interfere with that process. So she passes the time until he does arrive by taking stock of things—she’s so sore, everywhere, but it doesn’t feel like she’s bleeding anymore. Her vision is blurry, her mind and ears full of a buzzing sound she can’t account for, but otherwise, she seems to be okay. Behind her, she can hear the faint noises of continued fighting.
Angels versus demons.
The fight broke out shortly after Lucifer and Michael took off into the sky. It seems the angels were ordered to attack when their commander was out of the way, to take out the opposers. Not long after that, the demons joined the fray and it turned into chaos until Michael appeared behind Chloe.
Her eyes scan her immediate vicinity. Michael is standing nearby, staring out straight ahead, probably at the fighting. Staying out of the chaos, like the coward that he is, smirking. He probably thinks that his victory is assured, with Lucifer out of the way.
Little does he know...
She has no sense for how much time has passed as she sucks in a deep breath, her aching lungs and heart starting to work again. It catches Michael’s attention.
His eyebrows furrow. “He actually did it,” he whispers in amazement. “He brought you back...”
Unfortunately, she can’t get enough air in her lungs just yet to respond.
“Good,” he continues cruelly, at a normal volume. “That means I get to kill you again.” Her fingers close in a fist and she waits until he’s close enough, still holding Lucifer’s dagger in his hand. And it’s still wet and dripping with her blood. He grins evilly at her. “Goodbye, Detective.”
Chloe swings with every ounce of strength she possesses. Which is, apparently, quite a lot: Michael goes flying back fifteen feet and slams into a column. Staring in shock, she climbs to her feet, looking at her hand, wondering what’s happening. The last time they checked, she didn't have celestial strength—at least, not enough to punch an archangel fifteen feet. Did something change in Heaven?
Michael is starting to climb to his feet. Chloe doesn’t hesitate to make sure he doesn’t. She plants her foot against his chest, shoving him back to the ground, then reaches down to rip the dagger from his hand. “That is not yours,” she hisses, her wings unfurling and her eyes blazing blue. She feels her feathers harden into deadly blades.
Michael stares up at her uneasily. “Do it, then. Kill me,” he taunts.
She considers it. Everything Lucifer ever told her about what his own twin brother has done to him flashes through her mind—hunting him down in Heaven. Dragging him through the streets of the Silver City while the rest of their siblings beat him bloody and shattered his wings. Tossing him out of Heaven and into Hell to suffer for billions of years, alone and afraid. Vilifying him to humanity, making him into the worst monster in all the history of the universe.
The grin on Michael’s face turns malicious. “How’d you like those two months without your beloved, Detective?”
Chloe falters, frowning. “That was you,” she whispers in realization. “You did that?”
“Wasn’t hard,” Michael says, shrugging his good shoulder dismissively. “Just shifted a couple timelines as soon as old Samael went to see Mom, and voila! Two months of watching you spin out and wonder if you’d ever see your so-called soulmate again.”
She goes abruptly, freezing cold, reliving all of those moments—the gradual loss of hope, the crippling grief, the nightmares, and fearing Lucifer was dead in some other universe. She never would have known; Lucas never would have known his father. “You took him from me? From his son?”
“Pfft, that mutant brat of yours would’ve been better off—” Michael’s words are cut off when the dagger in Chloe’s hand appears at his neck, her wings flaring out behind her.
“As if you haven’t done enough to him, to his family, you made him lose so much time with us.” She digs the dagger in deeper. They would all be better off without Michael. Without having to worry about whether he is going to come back later and start another war.
“You don’t have it in you...”
“I’ve killed for the people I love before,” she growls. “What makes you think I won’t?”
Uncertainty flickers across Michael’s face, then fear, and he carefully holds his hands up. “I dare you...”
Blood trickles down Michael’s neck. Her hand trembles.
“Detective.”
She gasps at the sound of his gentle voice right behind her. Clarity washes over her along with a sense of peace, but she doesn’t remove the blade from Michael’s neck. Michael is staring past her in shock and annoyance.
Chloe feels a hand on her shoulder, her wings relaxing and pulling in close to her spine. This isn’t you, Chloe. He isn't worth it.
She turns her head at the sound of his prayer to find Lucifer standing behind her with understanding and love in his eyes, and his hand stretched out for the dagger. Backing away from Michael, she hands it to Lucifer.
“What took you so long?” she teases weakly.
He gives her a small half-smile, then looks over as Amenadiel approaches. Without a word, the eldest angel passes Azrael’s blade to his younger brother, exchanging it for the bloodied dagger.
Lucifer looks at Chloe. The key, Detective?
“Oh, right,” she mutters, reaching for the necklace around her neck and handing it to Lucifer.
Lucifer takes both, giving her another small smile, then turns his inscrutable gaze to his twin, who is now climbing to his feet. Lucifer walks over to him. “Bend the knee, brother,” he says calmly. “To the death. Right?”
Michael eyes him warily, as if he’s debating whether to defy the command or call the bluff, but kneels beside Lucifer, unfurling his black, crooked, raggedy wings without a word.
Lucifer places the key into the hilt of Azrael’s blade and, instantly, the flaming sword is completed, blazing to life. Chloe stares at it in amazement, the flames licking across celestial steel as bright as the Lightbringer himself. She watches as Lucifer lifts the sword to shoulder height. The angels, Maze, Eve, and the demons are all watching him, too, with bated breath. When he brings it down, it isn’t to kill Michael, though, but to sever his wings.
Michael screams in agony. The sounds reverberating off of the coliseum walls as his wings hit the ground with twin dull thuds.
“No more killing,” Lucifer says, his voice full of emotion. He looks towards Amenadiel and nods, a silent conversation passing between them. The eldest nods back, relieved. “In my time here on Earth, I’ve learned that everyone deserves a second chance. Even me. Even you, Michael.” Though he doesn’t look entirely happy about it, and Chloe knows it’s because Michael killed her.
Michael looks up at him with uncertainty.
Amenadiel joins him at the top of the stairs. “Well done, brother,” he tells Lucifer quietly, then turns to face the crowd, taking a small step back behind Lucifer.
Lucifer looks at him with confusion, then turns to watch as the others, starting with Maze, begin to kneel. All of them are looking at him. “Wh...” He looks between them, then the flaming sword in his hand, and understanding washes over him. Slowly, he lifts the sword high above his head, still with that vaguely bemused expression in his eyes that likely only Chloe can see.
“Oh, my me...”
“I think you mean ‘us’,” Amenadiel says under his breath so only Chloe and Lucifer can hear him, but even he is looking at his younger brother in that awed manner.
It’s over. They’ve won.
The demons have returned to Hell, the angels to Heaven. As she and Eve leave, Maze claps Lucifer on the shoulder and gives him a look of respect he hasn’t seen in her eyes since before they came to Earth in 2011.
“Thank you for your help, Mazikeen,” he says quietly, cupping his best fiend’s cheek fondly and giving her a small, tired smile. “For everything.”
For once, she doesn’t give him a snarky response, she just nods. “Yeah. You, too.” Her eyes drift towards Amenadiel, who is guarding Michael several yards away. “Just don’t let the bald idiot screw everything up, all right?”
Lucifer chuckles, dropping his hand from her face. “I shall certainly do my best.”
Maze nods again, then puts an arm around Eve’s shoulders, and they depart.
Lucifer turns to where Chloe stands a few feet away looking exhausted, her arms crossed over herself as if she’s cold, and she stares off into the distance. He doesn’t blame her in the slightest; it’s been a long day. Too long. And as much as he would love to simply gather her in his arms and take them home to where Lucas is waiting, they still have one last order of business to tend to first.
“All right, love?” he murmurs as he approaches her.
She nods, but he can see everything is starting to hit her—that she died today, went to Heaven and spent an afternoon with her father where she nearly lost the memories of everything she holds dear, and was then resurrected.
He swallows down his own grief to be dealt with later; if he thinks about it too hard...well. He’d rather his brothers didn’t see him fall to pieces. Especially Michael. And especially after he and Amenadiel have become Gods of the universe.
Unable to resist with her so near, Lucifer leans in to press a lingering kiss to Chloe’s sweaty, dirty forehead. She’s still covered in her own blood, her shirt torn. “I love you,” he murmurs against her skin.
She grips one of his elbows, leaning into him. “I love you, too,” she whispers brokenly.
“We’ll go home soon, Detective. I just need to get Michael squared away.”
A flash of panic goes through her eyes. “You’re not going back to the other universe, are you?”
He shakes his head. “No. I have the sword this time, I won’t need to do more than open a portal and shove him through. Mum will find him quickly enough,” he assures her. Though he would very much like to know how Michael managed to shift the timelines—if that is what he did and he wasn’t lying to Chloe to goad her into killing him, that is. Either is a distinct possibility.
She nods, then follows him over to where Amenadiel and Michael are waiting. “Right, then. I’d like to get home soon, so let’s get this over with, shall we?” he says.
“Brother, are you sure about this?” Amenadiel asks, worrying, as always.
“Positive. The other option is Hell, and we discussed the risks with that,” Lucifer answers.
“You could always just take me back to Heaven,” Michael suggests, already back to being a dick. “Not like I have wings to go anywhere.” He shoots Lucifer a glare.
“Or we could kill you,” Lucifer counters loftily.
He meant what he said, though, no more killing—even if Michael wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him, had the situation turned out differently. Hell, he killed Chloe, and even if she is immortal, that isn’t something Lucifer can forgive. He’d done it just to hurt Lucifer, as a power play. He used the love of Lucifer’s long, hopeless life as a bloody pawn. It’s unacceptable. Unforgivable. “Instead, you’re getting a timeout with Mummy and Daddy. Consider yourself lucky.”
Michael rolls his eyes and scoffs, but doesn’t say anything else. So he does know when not to push his luck; took him long enough.
“Right, I’ve only done this once, so we’ll see how it goes, I suppose,” Lucifer says cheerfully, mostly to mess with his twin. He’s rewarded by Michael’s slightly panicked look that he quickly masks.
Lucifer steps forward about ten feet and relights the sword. Lifting it high over his head, he focuses on his mother’s universe in his mind, using his own Light for a bit of extra oomph, and brings the Sword down in a straight line. The portal opens and beyond it, they can see red grass and the lake with the kelpies, and in the distance, a woman riding a cow—in reverse. Lucifer stifles a shudder. He turns and walks back to his brothers. He and Amenadiel each grab one of Michael’s arms, dragging him to his feet.
“Come on, you don’t have to do this,” Michael starts hastily, digging his heels into the grass. “I acknowledge you both as the new Gods. I bent the knee, didn’t I?”
“Only because you thought Lucifer was going to kill you,” Amenadiel reminds him coldly.
“I still bent the knee,” Michael argues dismissively. “Who cares why I did it?”
Lucifer rolls his eyes. “I gave you a chance, Michael, and you decided to go through with your little war, anyway.”
“Is this about me killing your little girlfriend? What happened to ‘everyone deserves a second chance’, bro?”
“This is your second chance. I gave Mum the same one. Go do something better with it the way she did.” Because Lucifer certainly isn’t going to give Michael a third chance to harm his family. If Chloe hadn’t been immortal, he doesn’t know what he would have done. His gaze travels to Lilith’s ring on his finger. Then, again... They stop in front of the rift in time and space. “Now, you can either walk through with dignity on your own two feet, or we can toss you in on your arse. I know which option I prefer, personally...”
Michael glares at them. “This isn’t over,” he threatens, then turns and walks through the portal.
Lucifer sends a quick prayer to his mother with a summary of the situation on Earth, then immediately pulls the key from the sword, extinguishing the flames. The rift mends itself, sealing off the worlds again. He hands Amenadiel the key and puts the blade in his jacket. “Well, that was easier than expected,” he says cheerfully.
“You’re not worried he’ll come back?” Amenadiel asks, putting his necklace back over his head. “Start more trouble?”
“If he does...well, we know how to deal with it, don’t we?” Lucifer says darkly. “But I honestly don’t see how he could; I have the blade, you have the key, and only I have been able to open a portal to travel between universes. I certainly don’t intend to make it a habit after last time.”
Amenadiel sighs, glancing over as Chloe approaches and smiles at her. “I’m glad you’re all right, Chloe. Truly.”
“Thanks, Amenadiel.” Her arms are crossed over herself again.
Lucifer puts his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She snuggles against him gratefully. “We should be getting back home, I think.”
“Of course. We’ll speak soon, brother,” Amenadiel says understandingly, mouthing, ‘Take care of her,’ when Chloe glances away. As if he needs to be told.
Nevertheless, Lucifer nods and steps back with Chloe as his brother unfurls his wings and flies home. He turns to his partner, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Shall we?” She wavers on her feet, but nods. “Would you permit me to fly you home? You look...exhausted.” He was about to say ‘dead on your feet’, but...well. She doesn't need any more reminders.
“I am,” she agrees, leaning towards him. “Yes, please.”
His own wings unfurl and he gathers Chloe in his arms, trying not to look at her blood soaked clothing. He has many questions for her about today, but swallows them down; she doesn’t look to be in an answering mood. And really, he just wants to go home and see their son.
“Let’s go home, Detective...”
She wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles in against him, and he takes off.
Amelia stares at them with wide eyes as they walk through the balcony doors a few minutes later, but doesn’t ask questions. Her eyes drift to Chloe’s bloodied clothing. “I’ll just...head out, then,” she says quietly, pushing up from the floor. Beside her, Lucas is on his back beneath his toy gym, happily reaching for a hanging stuffed dog.
Chloe doesn’t acknowledge her, going straight to the baby, so Lucifer puts on a polite smile. “Yes, I’ll walk you out, my dear...” He waits for Amelia to gather her things, never taking his eyes off Chloe and Lucas as she holds her son closely, burying her face in his curls. “We’ll pay you for the full day, of course,” he tells Amelia, walking her to the elevator.
She smiles. “You don’t have to. I just hope everything is all right,” she says graciously.
Lucifer swallows hard, glancing again at his family. “As do I,” he mutters to himself as the nanny steps into the elevator. Deciding to give Chloe a moment with their son, he goes to the bar where he pours each of them a whiskey—after all, anyone who has just died and resurrected deserves something alcoholic.
Grief erupts in his chest. He lost her today. Yes, it was brief, and yes, he was able to retrieve her, but there was a moment when he thought something was terribly wrong and that he wouldn’t get her back. And he was sure that simply his presence in Heaven would result in his own death, but he never once hesitated to go after Chloe. Because as he told her in Heaven, he will always choose her. He would have found some way to return her home, even if it meant his utter destruction.
He removes the dagger Amenadiel returned to him from his pocket, still covered in Chloe’s blood. The fact that Michael used this just shows what an utter prick he is, and that he only did it to hurt Lucifer. Did he realize Lucifer would go after Chloe and possibly burst into flames? It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest; at least that way, Lucifer would be out of the running for God, and out of Michael’s hair for good, the latter of which he’s wanted for...who knows how bloody long...
Lucifer carefully cleans the dagger, then leaves it beneath the bar; he’ll deal with it later. Right now, he needs to be with Chloe and Lucas. “How are you, Detective?” he asks softly, sitting down beside her on the couch, placing both whiskey glasses on the table. He reaches over and runs a hand down Lucas’s back, getting a grin from his son that never fails to make him smile. Across from them, Teivel is watching them with concern, but keeps his distance for now.
“I’m...” He’s sure she starts to say that she’s fine, but it would be a lie, so she doesn’t finish the sentence. “I don’t know what to think. About any of it.”
He sighs. “If it’s any consolation,” he says in a low voice, “neither do I.” He has a flash of an image of his siblings, the ones present at the coliseum today, kneeling before him and Amenadiel. They are now rulers of the bloody universe; if only the religious nutters knew... Could be a laugh, he supposes.
Chloe leans over, resting her head on his shoulder. He slides an arm around her, pressing his lips to her hair. “I don’t understand...” She trails off again, shaking her head.
“What?”
“I was there...with my dad, for...hours...and I didn’t remember anything about my life...”
Lucifer swallows hard. “Heaven—it’s paradise, Detective,” he says quietly. “And in paradise, there is no room for pain. Heaven takes a soul and squeegees it until all the bad memories, or anything that could cause the soul pain or unpleasantness, have been wiped clean and locked away. I suspect that the only reason you began to remember was because I was there, tethering your soul to your life here on Earth.”
“So, if you hadn’t come for me...I wouldn’t have remembered?”
“Which I don’t understand, because you’re an angel now. You should have, at the very least, simply been hanging out in the Silver City until you found a way home. You remembered nothing?”
She shakes her head. “I remembered vague things—names, places—but any details or specific memories were behind this...veil in my mind. But then, my dad—” Her voice breaks; Lucifer squeezes her shoulder. “—he asked about you, and suddenly, the veil started to lift, and there was this...flood of moments between you and me, from the moment we first met until the first time you told me that you love me.”
He smiles a little in amazement. “Your mind was fighting it,” he realizes, huffing a laugh. “Detective, you literally fought the power of Heaven and came out victorious. I am impressed. And I suspect that as soon as that veil of yours lifted completely, your soul would have returned. But...well, I couldn’t wait that long.”
She hums. “Impatient Devil,” she murmurs as Lucas falls asleep on her shoulder.
“Indeed.” The memory of holding her bleeding body in his arms plays again, and he suspects he’ll be having that nightmare for weeks to come. He feels his façade begin to crumble. “I thought I lost you, Chloe.”
She turns, cupping his face in her hand. “I’ll always find a way back to you,” she promises, kissing him.
He leans into her, deepening it. “Likewise, but...perhaps let’s avoid this happening again, hmm? Or any situation where we’re separated. Because I get how you felt now, for those two months when you couldn’t sense me. It was only briefly, but it was...bloody awful.”
Her jaw tightens. “Apparently, that was Michael’s fault, too.”
“Yes,” he says grimly. “So I heard.”
Chloe glances down at Lucas, then at herself and grimaces. “I’m going to, um, go put him down. I desperately need a shower.”
“Here, hand him over and go have your shower, love. I’ll join you in a moment.” He looks at her uncertainly. “Unless...you’d prefer some time to yourself?”
Her eyes water and she shakes her head. “No, I think that would be a bad idea right now...”
His heart aches for her. “I’ll catch up, then,” he promises.
When she disappears into the bedroom, Lucifer sighs, and looks down at his sleeping son. “You’ve no idea how lucky you are, Gremlin,” he murmurs, kissing Lucas’s head, “to have a mother as spectacular as yours.”
Standing from the couch, he takes Lucas to the nursery to continue his nap, and spends a few moments just staring down at him. Lucifer knows there had been more than a chance that he might not have come back today, knowing his own self-worth has been shit for...well, eons. And that it’s down to a combination of Chloe and Dr. Linda that he managed to scrape by without bursting into flames the moment he entered Heaven. The chance was worth taking, and always would be if it meant protecting and saving Chloe, but it would have meant never seeing his son again. Leaving Lucas fatherless.
Now, though...
Lucifer shakes his head at the returning thought that he is now God. Well, co-God, with Amenadiel, which is going to be interesting. But they’d done what they set out to do: They stopped Michael and protected their families. Whatever challenges lie ahead can be dealt with tomorrow. Tonight, he needs to ensure that his Detective doesn’t have a post-adrenaline rush breakdown.
He finds her in their bathroom standing in front of the mirror wearing only her bra and jeans. The bloodied shirt she’d been wearing is in the wastebasket beneath the counter; he makes a mental note to get rid of that so she doesn’t have to look at it again. Normally, the sight of a shirtless Chloe Decker makes all sorts of thoughts and urges (and other things) rise, but right now, he’s watching her stare at the spot on her belly that is still covered in blood, where a scar has formed—a scar that was caused by his dagger. He may not have been the one wielding it, but he’d taken it to the coliseum and dropped it like a chump. He dragged Chloe into this mess to begin with; he should have tried harder to talk her into staying home, where she would have been safe.
But it had been her getting her short sword to him that gave him the upper hand with Michael after he dropped from the sky. That little bit of distraction had stopped Michael from sending him back to Hell and declaring himself God.
Chloe Decker may well have saved the entire universe with that move.
“Detective?” he calls softly, not wanting to startle her. She jumps, anyway, and turns to face him, tears in her eyes and her chin wobbling. “Oh, Chloe... Come here...” She doesn’t hesitate to rush into his arms, burying her face in his chest. He wraps a tight arm around her back and cradles her head with his other hand, pressing his cheek to her hair. Shudders wrack her body as she cries. “It’s all right, love,” he whispers, biting his lip against his own tears. “You’re all right.” It’s a reassurance for both of them, though he suspects it isn’t doing much good.
“I could have lost you today, too,” she whispers brokenly, gripping his suit with her fingers tightly enough he wonders if she’ll tear right through it.
He wants to tell her she’s wrong, but...well. As he was just thinking in Lucas’s nursery... “I’m here,” he promises. “We’re both fine.”
Somehow...
She tilts her head up, and he wipes away her tears, pressing his forehead to hers. “Thank you for coming for me, Lucifer.”
“Always,” he swears fervently. “Risk of immolation notwithstanding.” She chuckles wetly, and he smiles warmly. “There we are, that’s better, hmm? Come along, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”
He flips the handle to turn on the shower and leaves it to heat up while he goes about getting the rest of her clothing off. Normally, this is his favorite pastime, but right now, there is nothing sexual about it. His Detective needs comforting, and quite frankly, so does he; sex can wait.
Which is...a statement he never thought would cross his mind.
Chloe frowns slightly when she removes his jacket. “Weren’t you wearing a waistcoat this morning?” she asks, bemused, as she starts in on his shirt buttons.
He looks down at himself and frowns, as well. “Huh. That’s odd. I had it on before going up to Heaven.” He shakes his head. “No matter, fewer buttons for you to complain about.”
Her lips twitch. “Good point.”
“I did rather like that waistcoat, though...”
When she removes his trousers, she raises an eyebrow. “At least someone’s in a good mood,” she mutters.
He glances down at his erection at half-mast and grimaces. “Ignore that. It’s a natural reaction to having a naked Detective standing before me.” Kicking off his shoes and removing his socks, then his trousers, he leads her into the shower, beneath the hot spray of water. “May I wash you?”
She nods, biting her lip and staring straight ahead, unable to look down at herself—at the blood.
He reaches for a loofah and her body wash, and begins at her shoulders. “The first time I came back to life, after Malcolm,” he murmurs, focusing intently on his task; she stiffens at the reminder, but listens just as intently. “I was...disoriented afterwards. I’ve been through quite a lot in my long life, but never that, and it was a shock even to my system.”
“What did you do?” Chloe asks quietly.
He smiles. “I went to your house.”
Bemusement flares in her eyes. “Wait, what? No, you didn’t...”
Huffing a laugh, Lucifer goes for more body wash. “I tried to make myself knock on the door, but I...just couldn’t. I don’t mean to sound like a stalker or a peeping Tom, but I watched you through the window. You were in the sitting room with the Urchin asleep in your lap, and you were just staring at her, brushing your hand across her hair.” He does the same to her in demonstration. She leans back into his touch. “And there was this soft look in your eyes I wasn’t accustomed to seeing at that point. I don’t know how long I stood there, but suddenly, I didn’t feel out of sorts anymore. Being there, with you, even just being outside, was enough to make me feel better.”
Her hands find his waist and her thumbs rub soft circles on his skin. “You should’ve knocked. I would have been happy to see you.”
“Really?” he asks skeptically.
She nods. “I remember what you’re talking about. And I was thinking how relieved I was that Trixie was safe, of course, and about how we wouldn’t have gotten away from Malcolm if you hadn’t found a loophole and followed me when I told you not to.”
He scoffs. “As if I would have allowed you to meet that psychopath alone. You’re my partner, Detective, and even back then, I’d have done anything for you.”
“I noticed,” she says dryly. “You got shot and died for me. But anyway, that night...I wanted to ask you to come back to the beach house with us, because...” She shrugs. “You made me feel safe. And you made Trixie feel safe. She even asked me when I tucked her in whether you saved us. And, of course, I told her yes. But that whole night, I kept thinking that the only thing more I needed with me...was you.”
He stares at her in amazement. “I’m sorry I didn’t knock, then. I was under the impression you were still upset with me for everything Malcolm did.”
She frowns at him. “Lucifer, I was never upset with you about that. I knew you didn’t murder those people—the whole time. Maybe I could have handled the whole ‘arresting you’ thing better, but all I wanted was to help you sort through it. And the only safe place to do that was at the precinct. Though...” she rolls her eyes, “maybe not as safe as I thought it was, with the corrupt cops on Malcolm’s side, but still. I was on your side the entire time. I’ve always been on your side.”
Lucifer swallows the lump of emotion in his throat. “And I, yours, Detective.”
But he’ll never forget standing outside her beach house that night, watching her with Trixie. The longing he felt to be inside with them, with her, had been like nothing he’d ever felt before. And it bloody terrified him, the lengths he was willing to go for her. He remembers that soft look in her eyes, and wanting her to look at him that way. With love and tenderness. The way she’s looking at him right now.
“What about the second time? After getting the antidote,” she asks, almost reluctantly.
He scoffs. “Just as difficult, but more so, because...well. Once the dust settled and you were in the clear, having been given the antidote, that whole Miracle business came rushing back. All I could think about was our kiss on the beach, and I was afraid I’d...taken advantage of you, because obviously you weren’t in control of your own feelings.”
She rolls her eyes. “Obviously,” she mutters sarcastically.
“I knew I’d have to leave you...and I really did not want to leave you, Detective,” he says softly, old pain rearing up. “But I was afraid that you were a pawn in my father’s plans. And it wasn’t fair to you to have to put up with His nonsense.”
“You were protecting me,” she says softly.
“Yes. The moment you opened your eyes that first time...and you asked if we should pick up where we left off, I nearly said ‘yes, damn my father’s plans to Hell, Detective, I just want you’. It killed me to leave you. Nearly changed my mind a hundred times.”
She smiles sadly. “I wish you would have.”
“So do I,” he sighs. “You were all I thought of, you know. While I was in Vegas. And of course, I couldn’t stay away for long. I know I hurt you, and I’m—”
Chloe places a hand over his mouth. “You don’t have to keep apologizing. Really. It happened, it’s over, we’re here and together. That’s all that matters.”
He kisses her palm before she removes it. “Too right. I suppose my point in all of this is... You’re going to be all right, Chloe,” he says softly. “Perhaps it doesn’t feel like it, but you have me, and I’ll make sure of it.”
Her eyes water again, but she gives him a small, genuine smile. “I know you will. You always do.”
He finishes washing her body in silence, then turns to her hair. She turns her back to his chest, leaning against him, and while it makes washing more difficult, it feels too good to stop.
“My turn,” she says softly, after her hair has been thoroughly rinsed.
“Your turn to get your hands all over me? Yes, please,” he says exaggeratedly, just to make her laugh.
Her fingers in his hair feels extraordinary and soothing, so much so that he nearly falls asleep where he crouches enough that she can reach his head. At least, until she speaks. “When you came for me...there was somebody with you. Who was it?”
He huffs a disbelieving laugh, just as he had when he saw the face of the person holding out a hand to help him from the crater where he crash-landed in Heaven. “I nearly forgot about that... It was Father Frank, Detective,” he tells her with a grin.
Her fingers still as she looks at him in stunned surprise. “Really?”
Humming in the affirmative, he nods, and she continues with his hair. “I don’t know how he knew I was there, but yes. He led me directly to you and we chatted a bit along the way.” Impatient though he was to get to Chloe, it was truly wonderful to see Frank again. “He reunited with his daughter, of course, and he’s happy. I told him about Lucas and about you.”
“I told you your father had a plan for you,” Frank said to him, a smug smile on his lips.
Lucifer promised to visit the padre again, under less dire circumstances, and demanded another duet. Then he saw Chloe with her father and the need to get to her took over again. He’ll have to find some time soon for that duet, though.
After their shower, Lucifer dries her, wrapping her in a large, warm towel before drying himself. He dresses her in one of his shirts and he pulls on pajama bottoms. “Are you hungry?” he asks, following her out to the bedroom.
She shakes her head. “You?”
“Not particularly.”
“I do want Lucas in here, though. I don’t want to be far from him tonight.”
He studies her for a moment. “Would you like for me to fetch the Urchin, as well?”
Chloe considers it, but ultimately shakes her head. “I don’t want her to see me like this, and she’ll know instantly that something is wrong.”
“Hmm, yes, her soul-reading... Well, the offer remains on the table, if you change your mind.” He starts to leave the room to fetch Lucas, but Chloe grabs his hand, tugging him back. “Did you need something else, love?”
She kisses him, her hands on either side of his neck, holding him in place. He sinks into it immediately, wrapping his arms around her. She tastes like life, and love, and freedom. She tastes like home.
Notes:
Last chapter, I mentioned the alternate scene at the end, and several people said they'd like for me to post it. You can find it here: Bound By Light. It has nothing to do with the plot moving forward, so it isn't necessary to read it, but if you do, I hope you enjoy it.
From here, we're moving into the final few chapters. As I also mentioned in a previous chapter, there is a tenuously planned part four multi-chapter story (of which, I have about 11 chapters written and stalled out). It's titled Angel Rising and is, in theory, the final installment of the Angel By Design series. Currently, I'm working on a different fic, and everything else has been shunted to the wayside, but I do intend to get back to this series at some point. I'm just not sure when.
Chapter 30: I Choose You
Notes:
Deckerstar interpersonal time, followed by a bit of individual introspection by our favorite couple.
Chapter Text
Chloe can’t sleep. She’s laid in bed for the last hour beside Lucifer, alternating her staring between him and the bassinet where Lucas is fast asleep. Every time she closes her eyes, she has visions of today going differently—worse. She dreams of Michael getting hold of the flaming sword and managing to light it, cutting Lucifer down with it and wiping his soul from existence. Or of Lucifer retrieving her from Heaven and saving her, but bursting into flames and then burning into nothingness. Other visions of angels killing her friends. Michael, winning, and declaring himself God, then sending Lucifer to Hell and locking him away for eternity.
And she knows that isn’t the way it happened. But she can’t help picturing it.
She’s stronger than this. So Michael stabbed her and sent her to Heaven for a little while. It all turned out well in the end, right? Lucifer and Amenadiel are co-Gods, and that in itself is insane. She overcame whatever Heaven tried to do with her mind. She and Lucifer came home to their son. And Trixie is okay, too; Chloe called her before bed and listened to her talk for nearly an hour about what she and Nana are doing this weekend—just savoring hearing her daughter’s voice. Her family is fine.
So why isn’t she?
Apart from their shower, Lucifer has been particularly hands-off with her tonight. He held her as they watched TV, while taking turns holding Lucas as neither of them seemed capable of putting him down. He would respond if she initiated kissing, but never once initiated it himself. They haven’t talked about any of it, not past the little they discussed when they arrived home and in the shower. And she knows he isn’t as okay as he’s pretending to be, either. After all, he held her as she died; she will never forget the way he sounded yelling her name before Michael stabbed her.
A whimper gets her attention. At first, she thinks it’s Lucas, but then Lucifer starts to get restless beside her—he’s having a nightmare. Lucky for him, she’s already wide awake.
“Lucifer,” she whispers, pressing against his side. His face twists in pain. She presses a kiss to his cheek. “Lucifer, it’s okay, you’re having a nightmare.”
“Chloe,” he mumbles in his sleep, his hands clenching the golden sheets around him. “Chloe, no... Come back...”
“I’m right here,” she murmurs into his ear. “Lucifer, I’m all right. I’m here.”
He doesn’t seem to hear her. Whimpering her name and words she can’t quite make out.
I’m okay, Lucifer. Wake up. I’m right here, beside you. Wake up, babe...
He gasps awake, wet eyes opening wide, and he’s panting like he’s just run a marathon. “Chloe,” he pants. His cheeks are stained with tears, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot.
Chloe feels her heart shatter at the sight. “Oh, Lucifer. I’m right here,” she says again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Lucifer sinks into her, his arms wrapping around her waist like a Venus flytrap as he buries his face in her neck, and sobs. “Chloe...oh, Chloe...”
“Shh, it’s okay,” she murmurs into his hair, cradling him to her shoulder as she sinks back into the pillows. He follows limply, melting against her. She’s only seen him like this a few times before, following nightmares replaying his Fall in excruciating detail.
At least he didn’t transform into his Devil form this time, she thinks grimly. But this is nearly just as bad.
Watching him today at the coliseum as he faced his siblings, most of them for the first time since he was banished from Heaven, had been incredible. How fearlessly he faced his family; the speech he made, trying to convince them that he and Amenadiel would be better rulers than Michael; fighting Michael—it was like nothing she had ever seen before. The skill in the way he moved, the confidence that he exuded—her strong, fearless Lightbringing Devil...
...until Michael killed her. She could hear the pain, the torment in his voice as he cried out that warning to her; she could feel it in her soul—his heart shattering. His cries as he held her in his arms while she bled to death, pleading with her to stay with him. And oh, she had wanted nothing more. It was so confusing, because in the back of her mind, she knew it wasn’t the end, and yet, at the same time, she could feel that pull on her soul, dragging her to Heaven.
“You left me,” he whispers brokenly, his tears soaking the material of the (his) shirt that she’s wearing. “You left me, Detective.”
Chloe closes her eyes, unable to stop the flood of her own tears. “I know,” she breathes into his hair, one arm around his shoulders, holding him close, the other combing through his hair. “I know, I’m so sorry. But you came for me, like you always do.”
He lifts his head finally, and she has never seen him look this broken before. “I couldn’t get to you,” he chokes out. “I followed you, and I was at the gates of the Silver City, but...I couldn’t get through!”
For a moment, Chloe is confused, because obviously, he did get through; and then she realizes...his nightmare. He’s talking about his nightmare. “But you did,” she reminds him firmly, tenderly wiping the tears from his face. “Lucifer, you found me, and you brought me back. Remember?”
His eyebrows furrow, and she can see in his eyes how the nightmare still ravages his mind; he stares intently at her, like he’s trying to see inside her, to her soul. And finally, the curtain of fog in his eyes lifts and clarity settles in. He lets out a long, heavy breath, as though he’s been holding it for weeks.
“Chloe,” he murmurs, his voice calmer.
She nods, giving him a watery smile. “Yeah, I’m here. We’re both here.” She looks towards the bassinet—and this is why she wanted Lucas close tonight; she knew one or both of them would have nightmares and would need the reminder that they’re here; that they made it home. “Look.” She gently turns Lucifer’s face towards their son. The tension suddenly bleeds from his body and he calms. “We’re all here, Lucifer.” And she now wishes she had taken him up on the offer to retrieve Trixie from her mother’s, so that they could go into her room and see her, too, safe and sound.
“Bloody hell...” Lucifer sighs expansively. “That was...” He shakes his head, apparently having no words to describe his nightmare.
“I know,” she murmurs.
He turns back to her again, eyes still filled with grief and despair, and an edge of desperation that dart down to her lips and back. That is all the warning she gets before he’s kissing her with everything that he has, one hand cupping her face to hold her in place. He nips at her lip, then soothes it with his tongue, and when she sighs, he takes advantage and deepens the kiss. Long fingers slide into her hair, massaging her scalp as his tongue expertly does things she is fairly certain are illegal, and make her whimper for more against his mouth. He doesn’t hesitate to oblige.
Chloe can taste his need, and the sounds he makes shoot straight between her thighs. She tugs on his arm and he rolls over her, leaning his weight on one elbow, and starts trailing kisses down her throat. She moans when she feels his teeth scrape lightly over her skin and then his lips form a smirk.
Rearing up just enough that he can use both hands, he rips open the shirt she’s wearing, clearly too impatient to bother unbuttoning it, and kisses his way to her breasts, taking one nipple between his lips. Meanwhile, his hand slides lower, between her legs where she’s already wet, and rubs her over her panties.
“Lucifer,” she gasps. He hums around her breast, then switches to the other. Her hands aren’t idle either, sliding down his side, nails lightly scratching his skin to make him shiver, to the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She uses her feet to get them to his knees, and he pauses in kissing down her body long enough to kick them off.
The only place he lingers for longer than a few seconds is at the scar on her belly. His eyes water as he looks at it, but he blinks away the wetness and presses a long, tender kiss there, as if trying to give her new memories to associate with the scar. Or perhaps himself.
Somehow, her panties have disappeared, too, and suddenly, she feels his tongue sliding against her. He uses just the tip to draw circles and other shapes as his fingers slip into her, quickly getting to work. There is no teasing tonight; just pure need and desperation. His fingers pump into her hard and fast, curling on the way out against that one spot that has her panting and gripping his hair—if he were human, it would probably hurt.
He growls and grunts and moans into her, always so vocal, even in this. And his dark, glimmering eyes are locked on her face, watching her every reaction.
Come for me, Chloe, he prays, and it’s what she needs to fall over the edge—less than three minutes since he started.
Lucifer doesn’t wait for her to come down from her pleasure high as he normally would; the moment he’s worked her through her orgasm, he’s kissing and licking his way back up her body, crashing his lips into hers. She moans into his mouth, tasting herself on his tongue.
Need you, he pleads, unwilling to take his mouth off hers for a second.
Chloe reaches down between them, finding him hot and throbbing and hard as steel as she strokes him a few times. He hisses, thrusting into her hand, and it’s her turn to smirk. She lines them up and he immediately sinks in as deeply as he can go. They both gasp at the sensation of being connected, especially after a day like today.
Growling, Lucifer sets a hard, possessive pace, barely giving her time to adjust, and all she can do is hold on for the ride, burying her face in his neck. Her arms go around his shoulders, her legs around his waist, and she whimpers at the change in angle, biting her lip against a cry following a particularly sharp thrust that pushes them farther up the bed.
He presses his forehead against hers, their eyes inches away and locked. She can see everything in his: love, lust, desire, and stark relief. “Love you,” he breathes.
“I love you,” she pants, her fingers tightening in his hair. “I’m close.”
“Good.” He thrusts harder, hitting every pleasurable spot he can reach, and kisses her again, all teeth and tongue.
Her second orgasm hits her hard, knocking the breath out of her as her eyes roll to the back of her head. She’s only vaguely aware of Lucifer’s thrusts faltering, and of him burying his face in her neck, groaning something that sort of resembles her name as he joins her in oblivion. Then his weight is pressing her into the mattress as he becomes unable to support himself, whimpering into her skin.
She lifts a hand, running her fingers through his hair to soothe him, and feels his lips pressing tender kisses to her neck. When he lifts his head, she’s relieved to see there’s no sign of his nightmare left in his eyes—just pure joy and love. And as always, he kisses her, sweet and affectionate; it always feels like he’s thanking her for being with him; for loving him. She returns it, running her fingers down his face, across his beard.
When he’s cleaned them both up, he settles against her side, lifting his head to glance towards where Lucas is sleeping, and he laughs a little. “He must be your son; he can sleep through bloody well anything, including you screaming my name,” he murmurs smugly.
She rolls her eyes, wincing; she’d actually forgotten Lucas was in their room the moment Lucifer started kissing her. “Yep, definitely mine; I was there when I gave birth to him.”
“As was I. I had to ensure your wings didn’t pop out and blast the medical staff with divinity.”
“That would have been a nightmare.”
Lucifer pushes up onto his elbow, leaning over her, and she thinks he’s going to kiss her; instead, he just looks at her with furrowed eyebrows and a strange look in his eyes.
Chloe traces a finger along his jaw, then his lips, red and swollen from kissing her. “What are you thinking about?” she asks softly, hoping it isn’t the nightmare.
His lips part as though he’s going to say something, but he hesitates, intently searching her eyes. He must find whatever he’s looking for, because he takes another breath and murmurs, “Marry me.”
For a moment, Chloe stares at him, confused. She holds up her left hand, displaying the beautiful diamond engagement ring he presented her with on her birthday—when he asked her to marry her and she said yes. “I, um...I’m pretty sure we’ve had this conversation...?”
He huffs, lips tugging up at the corner. “No, I meant...I don’t want to wait two more months to call myself your husband,” he says softly, looking at her with so much emotion her breath catches in her chest. “I don’t want to wait two more bloody minutes, Chloe. You’re everything to me, and I want the world to know it. And after today...” He shakes his head, then leans in to press his forehead to hers. “Marry me, Detective.”
“Yes,” she whispers without having to even think about it.
Lucifer pulls back, looking at her in surprise. “Yes?” he asks with just as much hopefulness as when he first proposed.
She nods, cradling his face in her palm. He immediately leans into her touch. “I don’t want to wait, either.”
He laughs in amazement. “So, we’re agreed? How’s tomorrow for you, Detective?”
While the rational side of her is screaming at her that there is too much planning to do, the Lucifer-inspired impulsive side says screw it. He’s all she needs to be happy; the rest is just details.
“Tomorrow sounds perfect, Lucifer.”
Again, he laughs happily, kissing her gratefully. Before she can even respond, he’s pulling away, excitement and elation in his eyes. “We can still get married on the beach,” he says in a rush. “I’ve half a dozen judges who would officiate on short notice. And we can invite whomever you desire, and if you still desire the wedding we planned, we can have a ceremony in August as well. I’d marry you a thousand times.”
His laughter and joy are infectious. “I think...tomorrow should just be for us,” she says softly. “And I like the idea of having the bigger ceremony—and your party, of course—in August.”
“Our party, Detective,” he corrects her warmly. “I like that, as well. Although,” his eyebrows furrow briefly, “Miss Lopez is going to murder us where we stand when she finds out we didn’t invite her.”
“Well, we’ll need a witness or two...”
He thinks for a moment. “How would you feel about those witnesses being Dr. Linda and my brother? I rather like the idea of keeping tomorrow to ourselves, not telling anybody, then letting them find out in August.”
She cocks her head. “What happened to wanting the world to know?”
He hesitates. “I do want that, but more than that, I don’t wish to share you with everybody else right away. I want something that is just us, that we can keep for ourselves.”
She thinks about it for a minute. Just her and Lucifer (and possibly Linda and Amenadiel), on their beach, sharing their vows without the world watching and giving their two cents. They’d only planned to invite a select few to their wedding in August, anyway, but right now, it still feels like too many people.
“Okay. Yeah, I like that, too,” she agrees. “I want Trixie there, too, though; this isn’t something we should keep from her.”
“No, I quite agree. I’d assumed that went without saying; after all, we’ll have Lucas there, as well.”
Chloe kisses him for that. “But do not tell my mother.” She can already hear her mother’s rant when she finds out Chloe and Lucifer are, essentially, eloping, and feels a dull throb between her eyes where the headache is already forming.
He scoffs. “I do know when to be circumspect, Detective,” he says, his tone entirely mock-affront.
She frowns. “Except, the only problem with this is, you don’t lie. How are you going to keep this quiet for two months?”
“When it matters, when it’s important, I can bend the truth a bit.”
“And keeping this quiet is important?”
“It is.” He hesitates again. “Chloe, I don’t know what is going to happen in the coming months with this...co-Godhood. But I do suspect it’s going to get complex. I desire a couple of quiet months with you, with our family, before everything gets complicated again.”
“You just want to be.”
He nods. “Precisely. And doing things this way, keeping our marriage quiet...it increases the amount of time we have together before—”
“How is any of this going to work?” she asks, voicing a fear that’s been at the back of her mind since Lucifer first said he wanted the throne so Michael couldn’t have it. “You’re not going to have to go...live in Heaven, are—”
“No,” he says firmly. “That is one thing both Amenadiel and I agree on: That we do not intend to leave our families for longer than absolutely necessary. We’ve not sat down and ironed out the details, but we do intend to involve our siblings to take some of the responsibilities off of our shoulders. It isn’t like they’re doing much now, anyway, the harp-playing idiots.”
Chloe huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes; he never skips a chance to insult his siblings.
“And we intend to divvy up the tasks they can’t do. But I do know this: You and the children will always come first for me, Chloe. I went into this as a way to protect you and your way of life; to give Trixie and Lucas a future that is full of opportunity and hope. And I intend to be there to see it all. I know it isn’t going to be easy, I’m not fooling myself there, but I’ll find a way. You have my word.”
She nods, relieved. She hadn’t realized just how worried she was. For the majority of their relationship, she feared losing him to Hell, and then Heaven joined the mix, too, and it was too much. “Okay, good.” She runs her fingers through his hair. “We should get some sleep; apparently, we have a wedding to attend tomorrow.”
He beams happily and kisses her again, his eyebrows furrowing with emotion. “I can’t bloody wait,” he murmurs against her lips.
“Me neither.”
As it turns out, getting married isn’t as simple as saying a few words and having somebody pronounce them husband and wife. There is paperwork to be filled out, but even with that, Lucifer can’t stop smiling. Then there is calling in a favor to a judge and making arrangements to officiate the ceremony. And their outfits, which is, of course, one of the most important components, second only to his actual vows to Chloe.
Following a truly phenomenal round of morning sex, they had breakfast, during which excited butterflies took up residence in his stomach. Afterwards, they bundle Lucas and all of his accessories into Chloe’s car, and head for the courthouse. Technically, they could get married here, but Lucifer refuses to put Chloe through another courthouse marriage; he has far more style and flair, and well...he wants this to be special.
There is a brief hiccup when Lucifer has to ensure that his marriage to Candy was successfully annulled (he can only imagine Chloe’s reaction if it wasn’t) and get the correct dates, but other than that, they have no trouble. They’ve also had to file for a permit for a beach wedding, even with just the two of them, which Lucifer manages to have pushed through in time for this evening.
Next, they go to Alejandro, Lucifer’s favorite tailor in Los Angeles, where he picks out his suit. Alejandro, forewarned months ago of Lucifer’s impending nuptials, even had a matching suit for Lucas that he tailored on the spot—Lucifer makes a mental note to give his tailor a bonus for the last minute work. Meanwhile, Chloe is at a nearby bridal boutique, selecting her dress, which she’s refused to share with Lucifer—he pouts for an hour when she kicks him out of the shop—and something for the Urchin to wear.
Amenadiel and Linda both agreed to be their witnesses, and assured that they would keep it quiet, though Lucifer has his doubts with his brother (perhaps somebody else would have been better, after all). Linda even offers to take Lucas and Trixie for the night afterwards—to give the newlyweds time to themselves.
“Oh! We need rings,” Chloe says suddenly when they stop for lunch. “Well, maybe. If we’re keeping everything quiet, rings would be a giveaway, wouldn’t it?” She seems disappointed by this realization.
Lucifer smiles. “Actually, I’ve got us covered.” He reaches into his suit jacket and takes out a ring box that he was planning to surprise her with, but since she brought it up, anyway... “I had these made shortly after returning from Mum’s universe. They’re made of a precious metal only found there, and I managed to snag a couple of pieces when Mum was showing me around.”
Chloe looks at him in stunned surprise, but reaches out for the box. She opens it and gasps. “Lucifer...these are gorgeous...”
He beams proudly, leaning over to look, adjusting Lucas in one arm. “They are, aren’t they? Turned out better than I thought they would; my jeweler wasn’t sure he could work with the material, but it’s the same as gold in the other universe, so...” The rings are a platinum color, with just a hint of blue when the light hits them just right; both are smooth and indestructible, as strong as celestial steel. “We don’t have to wear them right away. You're quite right in that it would give away the game too quickly, but I thought we could have them engraved. Something symbolic that encompasses us—our partnership, and how it’s grown over the years.”
Chloe tears her eyes off the rings and smiles at him. “I think that is a wonderful idea.”
“Well, of course it is, Detective; it was my idea,” he says arrogantly. She rolls her eyes, lips twitching. “Perhaps we each come up with what we would like the other’s ring to say?”
Her eyes light up at the idea. “I know what I want yours to say,” she says softly.
“You can’t get an eyeroll engraved on it, darling,” he says, grinning. She rightfully smacks his shoulder. His smile softens. “But I know what I want yours to say, as well.” She raises a questioning eyebrow at him. “I choose you.”
“Now and forever.”
He smiles at the thought. “‘Now and forever, I choose you.’ I love it,” he says softly.
They seal it with a kiss.
The Urchin is overjoyed when they tell her what they’ll be doing this evening, and of course, has a thousand questions, which Lucifer allows Chloe to field while they get the child’s dress fitted at the boutique. He leaves them to it and takes Lucas back to Alejandro to pick up the suits. And makes a few special arrangements for after the wedding; the thought of spending their wedding night at home is far too boring for his tastes, so he makes a phone call to one of his housekeepers, Berta, to ready his property in Carmel, where he gave Chloe her first flying lessons. He’s already envisioning, rather than the traditional carrying of the bride over the threshold, flying her to their destination, hopefully in her dress, which he knows she’ll look incredible in.
She always looks incredible...
It suddenly occurs to him as he pushes Lucas in his stroller through a nearby park that he, Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil, is getting married today. For real, this time, and not as some scheme or a deal. In just a few short hours, he and Chloe will stand on the beach where they first kissed more than two years ago now, and exchange vows to become husband and wife. He thinks about that kiss, and how, back then, all he’d wanted was to prove himself worthy of Chloe Decker—and knowing that he never would. Here was this remarkable, beautiful, brilliant, truly good human who had spent a year telling him how she would never, ever sleep with him—and she was kissing him. Comparatively, it was a chaste kiss, but it hadn’t felt like that at the time; tasting her for the first time had felt like the Heaven he would never see again. It felt like redemption he didn’t deserve. And he felt all these feelings that he didn’t know how to even begin addressing, let alone conveying.
All he knew was that there was something about Chloe Decker that he couldn’t explain that drew him back, again and again. And by that day on the beach, he was long since hooked on her; there could be no going back. He’d tried, of course, after he learned of her miraculous origins, but even then, as he told her in the shower yesterday, he couldn’t stay away for long. Those two weeks he was parted from her, when he tried to bury everything beneath drugs and booze, had been miserable; all he wanted was to see her again, even if he couldn’t be with her, he could still keep her in his life—it would have to be enough.
Spoiler alert: It wasn’t.
And then Marcus Pierce came along. Lucifer slowly watched Chloe pull further and further away from him into the arms of an immortal crime boss. His big “come to Jesus” moment, as it were, had been the Axara concert, when Chloe took Pierce along instead of him—because he’d been pushing her away, she’d chosen another. And if she had chosen another, it meant that she could have chosen him, if he hadn’t been such a bloody idiot. It meant that Linda was right all along, and that Chloe likely had free will from the get-go.
The worst part of it was, if Pierce had truly been who she desired, if he truly made her happy, if he had been a better man, Lucifer would have stepped aside and let her have it. All he ever wanted was her happiness. He would have hated every moment, and it would have shattered him to watch her fall in love with anybody who wasn’t him, but he would have done it—for her.
He probably should have realized then that he was in love with her. Or a thousand moments before then, when he could have done something about it. As it was, though, Chloe saw his wings before she and Pierce had gone on more than a few dates, and she never let him into her bed (a fact for which both he and Chloe are deeply grateful). And she certainly wasn’t in love with Pierce. All this time, she’d loved Lucifer; she was just too afraid of him breaking her heart again to admit it or do anything about it.
Lucifer doesn’t think he will ever work out precisely what made Chloe fall for him. She says it’s that he started letting her in and showing that he actually cared for her. By just being himself rather than the person he portrayed himself to be all his long life—the arrogant, devil-may-care playboy who cared about nothing but himself and his own self-interests.
And now, they’re getting married. They have a son together. And they get to spend eternity loving one another, when for so long he dreaded the day he would have to say goodbye to her for good, then spend the rest of eternity alone.
Yesterday, when he held her bleeding, dying body in his arms, fear had gripped his heart as he believed everything they learned about her angelic nature was wrong. He still can’t quite explain how she managed to get stuck in Heaven, and he makes a mental note to discuss it with Amenadiel, but he is beyond grateful he was able to convince her to come home. She could have chosen to remain there, with her father, but Lucifer knows she wouldn’t have been happy, not in the long run. Once her mind began to settle and her memories returned, she would have wanted to return to her family. As an angel, she could have self-actualized herself a new body, even, but he wasn’t about to wait around for her to figure it out.
He wanted his Detective back, and he was damn well going to get her.
It’s why his nightmare hit him so hard last night—being unable to reach her, losing her for all of eternity. They belong together, and he wouldn’t survive the rest of his life without her—not sane, at least. He knows he would have to find some way to hold it together, for his son’s sake, but with half of his heart and soul missing...well. It isn’t something he wants to contemplate for long.
His thoughts turn to the vows he has planned for this evening. Neither he nor Chloe were interested in the standard marriage vows—the connection that they have far exceeds them, anyway. So they’ve decided to write their own. And he suspects that whatever she says to him, he’ll be a crying mess afterwards; he tends to be far more emotional with Chloe than he is with any other aspect of his life—a fact that would embarrass and repulse the Devil he used to be. But if that Devil had any idea what was in his future...
Marriage is a concept he used to mock—the thought of spending the rest of one’s life with the same person, and only having sex with that same person was absurd. Love was a sham, thought up by poets and marketed by greeting card companies. And binding oneself under the eyes of his father? Hard pass. He saw what love got a person in Hell Loops—guilt that damns the soul and tortures a person for all eternity. Lucifer was as cynical as they come in regards to “love”.
Chloe changed that. He saw the unconditional love she has for her daughter, and that there was nothing she wouldn’t sacrifice to protect the little Urchin. When Malcolm kidnapped Trixie, Chloe hadn’t hesitated to go after her, even if it would undoubtedly mean her death. The respect and admiration Lucifer held for her already grew tenfold that day. And though he hadn’t identified it as love, it was the reason he followed Chloe. The reason he’d broken the vow of silence he made when it came to his father to pray and make a deal for her protection. Not that his father had taken it; Lucifer had been on his own, as ever, and had self-actualized himself back to life. It’s just a shame he hadn’t known that when Uriel showed up.
That was another thing he had done for love—killing his own brother. Uriel never would have stopped coming after Mum...or Chloe. Not until one or both of them was dead, anyway. It’s taken years for Lucifer to believe there was nothing else he could have done and still kept Chloe safe that night. He’ll always grieve his brother, and what he’d been forced to do, but his guilt has faded. He would have done the same to Michael; even if the act would have torn him apart inside. Lucifer despises his twin for everything he’s done, especially recently, but Michael is still his twin. They were created within minutes of one another and spent ages together back when they got along. Killing him would have been worse than Uriel.
But he knows that Chloe would have been there to put him back together; to pull him out of that pit of despair, as she tried to do with Uriel, even if she had no idea what was going on at the time. She wouldn’t have given up on him, just as he would never give up on her.
As much as he wishes he knew earlier on in their partnership that he was deeply and irrevocably in love with Chloe Decker, that they hadn’t wasted a second in being together, he suspects they needed that time to grow. Himself, especially. He was barely ready for Chloe when he first met her; there is no way he wouldn’t thoroughly screw up and drive her away. And anyway, she didn’t know the truth about him, then, and he hesitated to show her because he didn’t want to drive her away. It’s why he was so excited that she was going to test his blood—damn Amenadiel. That would have allowed her to know that something was abnormal about him, and with how bloody clever she is, she could have worked it out sooner.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t be happier with the turns his life has taken in the last year and a half. Looking back on who he used to be feels like looking at another person altogether; he was a thoroughly miserable sod who buried his pain and anger beneath drugs, booze, and sex, and told himself he was happy. That he didn’t need anything else. Deep down, though, he always knew there was something missing. He thought it was Heaven; the divinity that was stripped away from him when he Fell. But he was still searching...until Chloe Decker walked up to his piano and asked if his was a stage name.
Shaking his head, as he sits on a bench idly moving Lucas’s stroller back and forth, Lucifer marvels. It all comes back to Chloe. Everything he was building towards in his life, every path he took, no matter the turns he made just to spite his father. The most amazing part is that her Miracleness wasn’t her being created for him, or even her being put in his path. She would have always existed; his father just gave her an extra slice of the divinity cake in order to give her and Lucifer more time together. Lucifer still suspects there was more to it, but he also knows that even if his father were still present in this universe, He’d never admit to it.
“Not that it matters,” he mutters to himself. He and Chloe decided early on in their relationship that what they have is theirs and theirs alone; that she has always had free will, and would continue to exercise it, no matter his father’s plans. And if anybody could have defied the great and ineffable plan, it’s Chloe Jane Decker.
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out. And snorts a laugh.
Is there a reason you didn’t just pray, darling? Not that he minds; he’s always enjoyed texting with her, even if her emoji communication needs work. Ah, well, they’ve an eternity to get her there.
Not particularly, I just thought you’d enjoy it.
Oh, I do, make no mistake. Reminds me of the good ol’ days.
He can practically feel her snort. You’re a timeless being; all the days are ‘good ol’ days’ for you. Anyway, if it wasn’t clear in my text, our dresses are ready. Now we just need you, and we can go get the Devil shackled.
Nothing about this is me shackling myself, darling. If anything, this is me freeing myself.
Lucifer... He can feel how touched she is through prayer and imagine the way her eyes water as she gives him that small, sweet smile he adores.
I mean it, Chloe. I’ve never felt freer than when I’m with you. Tonight is just the beginning of our story, my love.
I can’t wait to see the rest of it.
Neither can I. Lucas and I will see you soon.
He feels a light pressure against his lips; Chloe, mentally brushing a kiss there. “Come on, Gremlin, let’s go get the Devil hitched, hmm?”
“You look so pretty, Mommy, you’re gonna knock Lucifer’s socks off.”
Chloe snorts a laugh as she glances at her daughter. “Do you even know what that means?”
Trixie shrugs. “No, but it’s what people say in the movies.”
Shaking her head, Chloe turns back to the mirror and finishes styling her hair. She has to admit, though, her daughter is right; the dress she found at the shop is better than the one she had in mind for the wedding they were planning in August. And she looks good in it.
“You look very pretty, too, Monkey.”
Trixie beams.
They’re in a hotel room near the beach that Lucifer insisted on getting for the couple of hours that they need it. He’s in the room next door getting himself and Lucas ready. Chloe barely even shrugged at the suggestion; this is better than getting ready at the penthouse, then driving or even flying here—besides, flying would mess up all the hard work with her hair.
All day she’s had to repeatedly pinch herself when the thought ‘I’m marrying Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil’ crossed her mind. She’s been doing a lot of reminiscing on their partnership (just as he has, unbeknownst to her), and it never ceases to amaze her how far they’ve come from when they first met.
He was such an asshole during those first few cases. Arrogant and smarmy and...well...repulsive on a chemical level. Of course she found him attractive, she has eyes, but then he opened his mouth and, suddenly, way less attractive. There was something about him, though, that she couldn’t put her finger on; something that drew her to him.
And it annoyed the hell out of her; she had enough on her plate with the separation from Dan and Palmetto and the entire department hating her. The last thing she needed was some delusional idiot who was probably going to get her killed following her around like a puppy and trying to sleep with her. Credit where credit is due, though, he was helpful on those cases, and he helped her see things she might not have otherwise seen.
Then she saw his scars, saw him and the deep pain he held onto, and something changed. He became her friend, then somebody she could count on. She realized that she might be falling for him that morning in her kitchen when she made him egg sandwiches, and he told her that her father would be proud of her. She hugged him, and when his arms closed around her...Chloe could have stayed right there with him all day like that. She felt safe and cared for; like she truly had somebody on her side.
The first time they danced together at Lux was a revelation, too. It was so much fun to dance with him; the way he started out being a complete dork to get her to laugh and loosen up, then twirling her around the dance floor. She can still hear his joyful laugh, and her own. Linda commemorated that dance with a photo that Lucifer gave her for their one year anniversary, and it was plain to see (for anyone but them) how they felt for each other.
Their kiss on the beach is another of her most treasured memories—his speech about how unworthy he was of her, yet he knew things about her that others would never notice, or wouldn’t care about. She knew then she wanted to be with him, and that no matter what he thought, he was absolutely worthy of her. Because that speech wasn’t about wanting to get her into bed; it was about her, and showing her that he knew her. He’s the only person, aside from Trixie and her dad, who has ever really known Chloe Decker, and the only one not related to her. He cared enough to notice those things, and she was done pretending.
Then their hug at the college lab after the poison gas. Her fear on that run back to him was nearly as strong as the fear she’d had when Malcolm kidnapped Trixie; and her relief was overwhelming. She’ll never forget the soft look in his eyes when he asked, “This is real. Isn’t it?” or his hopeful amazement.
Of course, it all went to shit shortly after that. Walking into the penthouse after nearly dying from poison, only to find all the furniture covered with sheets was like a kick to the gut. And those two weeks of wondering where he was, whether he was okay, if he was ever coming back were agonizing. Then, when he did come back, there was Candy, and her heart broke even further when he insisted, after everything they’d been through and shared, that they were ‘just friends’. It should have been enough to wash her hands of him altogether; if that’s the way he felt about her and their partnership, if he wanted to replace her with a shiny new model with bigger boobs and a lower IQ, then she should have walked away.
But she couldn’t. Because he’s Lucifer, and he was never going to let her get away that easily. He spent that entire case trying to prove that she needed him. From the marriage counseling (“I’ve been through Hell recently, both figuratively and literally. My worst fears, realized.”) and singing Eternal Flame to her, he was still there. And maybe she didn’t need him, but she did want him—both as her partner at work and as her friend, if she couldn’t have what she really wanted.
She tries not to think about Marcus Pierce, but it isn’t something she can ever entirely escape, unfortunately. Agreeing to go with him to the Axara concert was a mistake, and one made far too hastily when she was still licking her wounds from Lucifer pushing her away yet again. Even after she agreed, she’d considered calling it off; if only because Lucifer had literally just taken a knife to the chest to protect her, and she had seen in his eyes that of course she was important to him, whatever else he tried to pretend. But she’d pushed those thoughts aside, and some part of her went on that date to get back at him—petty and childish as it was.
There had been no chemistry between herself and Pierce, but she told herself there could be, if only she could get over whatever she felt for Lucifer. More often than not, she found herself comparing the two men—Marcus was safe and steady; Lucifer was dangerous (at least to her heart) and all over the place. But at the same time, Lucifer would have taken me to a nicer restaurant, or Lucifer makes me laugh and is an amazing conversationalist; Marcus could bore the moss off of rocks. Nothing about Pierce felt right, though she told herself otherwise.
Until Lucifer saved her life in the warehouse.
She fell in love with Lucifer earlier than even she realized, and it’s only grown exponentially since. Some things she wishes never happened, but in the end, it brought them closer, made them stronger. And she wouldn’t change a single moment.
But if someone had told her right after first meeting him that she would not only fall in love with Lucifer Morningstar, but that he would become the love of her life, the father of her second child, and that she would marry him...she would still be laughing years later. Because Lucifer was not boyfriend material, let alone husband and father material. He loved his revolving bedroom door lifestyle. The more hedonistic the better. Why would he want to settle down with a divorced, single mother with a dangerous job and unpredictable work hours?
As it turned out, that’s precisely what he wanted.
Lucifer told her earlier that she makes him feel freer than he’s ever felt. Well, the feeling is mutual. He lets her be herself without trying to change her into who he wants her to be. He supports everything that she is, and yet encourages her to be more, to not limit herself.
And he is such a good dad—to Trixie as much as Lucas. Chloe knows, has known for some time, that he loves her daughter like she’s his own, even when he would never admit it. Hell, he sacrificed himself to save both of them from Malcolm. She couldn’t ask for a better father for her kids. Someone who is present, and especially there when he’s needed. Who wants to help them grow as people. Lucas is far too young to realize how lucky he is, but Chloe knows that he will when he’s older. How could he not?
Chloe is so proud of how far Lucifer has come—from L.A.’s biggest playboy to LAPD consultant, to wanting to be better for himself and actually following through. From the Devil and fallen archangel to co-God of the universe. That’s something she’s still a bit wary about, but she’ll be right there with him through it all, whatever happens.
“When you and Lucifer get married, does that make you the Queen of Hell?” Trixie asks curiously, playing on her phone.
Chloe’s eyes widen. “Uh...no?” At least, she doesn’t think so. Does it make her co-Goddess of the universe along with Linda? She makes a mental note to mention that to her friend, just to see her eyes bug out. She doesn’t even know if Lucifer is still King of Hell. It’s quite the promotion, though...
“But...if Lucifer is King,” Trixie says leadingly, “and Lucas is Prince of Hell...”
“Yeah, no, that isn’t... I don’t think that’s how Hell works, Monkey.”
“But Maze says it is.”
Chloe is going to have a really long talk with the demon soon. “Maze says a lot of things, baby. And a lot has happened lately that has changed how...everything works.”
“Like what?”
Chloe hesitates. Her daughter doesn’t yet know about yesterday, or even that Lucifer was planning to become God. None of them knew how that would turn out, and they didn’t want to drag Trixie into it. “We’ll talk about it later, Monkey. But the point is, I am not going to be Queen of Hell.” She thinks. She hopes.
“Why didn't you and Lucifer want anyone else to see you get married?”
Chloe turns and leans against the counter, adjusting her dress. “We decided we want this to be special, just the two of us, you and your brother.” She tilts her head. “And...Linda and Amenadiel.”
“And we’re keeping it secret, because...?”
“It’s complicated, Monkey. Lucifer and I have been through a lot. And we haven’t really had much time between big things happening around us to just...be together. We want to keep us getting married quiet to keep it special. Not that it wouldn’t be special, but we want to enjoy the quiet for a little while without everyone around us getting involved. You remember after Daddy and Charlotte got married, and everybody wanted to come over and congratulate them. Or take them out to dinner to celebrate? Stuff like that?” Trixie nods. “Well, Lucifer and I want to...put that off for a bit.”
Trixie considers this, then shakes her head. “Grownups are weird...”
“Can’t deny it, kiddo.” Chloe puts the finishing touches on her makeup and turns around to face her daughter. Before she can take a breath, there’s a soft knock on the door.
“I’ll get it!” Trixie exclaims, jumping to her feet and rushing to the door. She opens it a crack to see who’s there, then opens it. “Hi, Dr. Linda! Hi, Emily!”
Chloe turns and smiles at her friend. “Hey, glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, sorry we’re late. Amenadiel lost Emily’s stuffed bear, and it was meltdown city until he found it,” Linda tells them dryly. “I love your dress, Trixie, very pretty. And Chloe... Wow...”
The Detective blushes. “Thanks. Think he’ll like it?”
Linda gives her a look. “We both know Lucifer would marry you if you were wearing a potato sack.”
“Yeah, okay, that’s fair...”
“But yes, I think he’s going to love it. He sent me to check on you.”
He could have just prayed... “I’m good, just finishing up.” Chloe checks the time. Nearly sunset... “Okay, Monkey, you ready to go watch me make Lucifer your official step-Devil?”
“Been ready for that for three years...” Trixie mutters under her breath.
“You and me, both, Trix,” Linda says, smirking at Chloe.
Chloe rolls her eyes at both of them. Ready to be made an honest Devil?
More than ready, Detective. I await your arrival with bated breath. And do hurry, before my brother bores me to death...
Chloe stifles a laugh. On my way to rescue you.
I shall see you soon.
Chloe can’t wait.
Chapter 31: Mr. and Mrs. Morningstar
Notes:
Bit of a longer chapter (clocks in at just over 10k). There is so much fluff in this chapter, and of course, there be smut, but it's their wedding night, so... *shrug*
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Lucifer stands on the beach, exactly where he stood two and a half years ago and gave Chloe an impassioned speech about how she deserves somebody worthy of her—and that somebody wasn’t him. In the time since, though there have been low moments, he’s done everything he can to become worthy of her. He isn’t entirely certain he’s achieved that worthiness, but he won’t stop until he does. Or even then, for that matter. However, it isn’t his opinion that counts on this subject, he’s learned; it’s Chloe’s. She believes that he is worthy and that he is who she desires.
How he managed to convince her of that, he will never comprehend, but she’s made up her mind. She wishes to marry the Devil. And so the Devil will give her this desire—and every other desire she may have.
At his feet, Lucas is asleep in his car seat, wearing a cobalt blue dress shirt beneath a darker blue three-piece suit, complete with waistcoat and cobalt pocket square. His suit matches his father’s exactly, and is an updated version of the one he wore the first time Lucifer stood on this beach with Chloe. He thought it would be symbolic of how far they’ve come. He tried to style Lucas’s hair, but the curls were a bit too stubborn, and Lucas was squirming too much. The fledgling still looks bloody adorable.
Beside him, stands Judge Wallace Sherman, who is their officiate for this ceremony. Lucifer met Wally at a party a few years back, and his greatest desire was to start a family of his own. A desire that Lucifer in no way understood at the time, but helped out, anyway, as one can never have too many judges in their back pocket. He introduced Wally to a woman named Eileen, who he did not have sex with, and the two hit it off instantly. They’ve been married themselves for three years and have two-year-old twins. Lucifer thought it was rather fitting that Wally be the one to marry him and Chloe, rather than one of the less...extralegal favors owed to him.
On his other side is Amenadiel, who is wearing a suit that actually fits him well. For Christmas, Lucifer had given his brother a prepaid day with his tailor to upgrade his wardrobe; it would seem he made good use of it, too. Linda and Emily have just gone to check on Chloe and Trixie, and Lucifer is starting to get anxious. For once, though, it’s a good sort of anxiety. He’s looking forward to seeing the dress she chose, but he’s more looking forward to becoming her husband—a desire he never thought he would have.
“I’m proud of you, Luci.”
Lucifer blinks, narrowing his eyes uncomprehendingly, because he couldn’t have heard that correctly. “I beg your pardon?”
Amenadiel has a smile on his face that Lucifer hasn’t seen since they were young angels in the Silver City. It’s a smile of genuine brotherly affection. “You heard me.”
“Yes, but it in no way makes sense for you to demonstrate pride in me.”
His brother sighs. “Look, I know that you and I have had a...complex history.” Lucifer snorts at the massive understatement. “But you’ve grown so much since moving to Los Angeles—well, since meeting Chloe.” Lucifer can’t argue that one. “I’m proud of you for achieving that growth.”
Lucifer smirks. “Oh, that’s nothing, brother,” he says dismissively. “If you like that growth, you should see my—”
“Please, do not finish that sentence,” Amenadiel begs. “I’m being serious here, Luci. I knew from the time you saved her life the first time that she was changing you; I just didn’t picture this. That you would settle down and start a family for yourself. That you would actually become who you were meant to be.”
“And who was I meant to be, precisely?” Lucifer asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Free. Your own man. It’s what you wanted from the first time you heard Father speak of giving free will to the humans. I remember your speeches beneath the Tree of Life.”
His eyebrows furrow. “You were utterly against everything about those speeches.”
“Maybe not as much as I let on. I would listen to you speak from behind Ariel’s greenhouses. You were...captivating, even then.”
“Well, of course I was,” Lucifer says smugly, mostly to hide his astonishment that Amenadiel actually listened to him speaking. “I was captivating from the moment I was created.”
“Perhaps. But watching you fall in love with Chloe... That has been captivating. You once asked me if you were boyfriend material, and I told you that you’ve never allowed yourself attachment to another person.”
“Yes, and as I recall, you were helping Mum manipulate Chloe and me together so that She could break us up.”
“I was wrong to do that, Luci. To you and to Chloe. The two of you, I’ve never seen anything like it; she brings out the best in you, and you in her, I think. And I can see how incredibly happy you are, brother, in a way I didn’t believe you capable of.”
“That I am...”
“I’m proud to call you my brother. And my co-God. And I look forward to seeing what you and Chloe do next.”
Lucifer can’t hide his astonishment this time at the sincere tone of his brother’s voice, let alone his words. “I...thank you, brother,” he says softly. “And I, you.”
Amenadiel nods, placing a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder, leaning towards him. “She’s here,” he says softly.
Lucifer snaps his head to the boardwalk to see first Linda carrying baby Emily, each wearing a soft blue dress to match the theme. Trixie is behind her, and Lucifer smiles at the sight of the same shade of blue as her brother’s and Lucifer’s shirts—something he and Chloe had not discussed, but clearly they were on the same wavelength. And all three of them look lovely, but Lucifer’s eyes are elsewhere.
All the breath leaves his lungs at once at the sight of her. His Detective. Never before has he seen somebody who more fits the definition of the walking embodiment of divine. Her hair is down and wavy, hanging over one shoulder. The dress she’s chosen makes his jaw drop: Full-length, white, and sleeveless; the front dips low, down to her bellybutton in a V, showing just enough to be enticing—he would like nothing more than to lick that V. There’s a gauzy material lining the dress that sparkles in the late evening sun, and as she draws nearer, he sees it glitters like little stars.
But it’s her expression and her eyes that make his heart skip a beat, and then pound harder than ever before: She’s practically glowing with happiness, a smile on her face that is reserved solely for him and grows larger when their eyes meet. Her eyes sparkle with joy and tenderness, and so much love. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.
Chloe... He can feel his own smile, so large his cheeks hurt, and his eyes begin to burn and blur—Bloody hell, she’s not even here yet...
Hi, she prays with such warmth it makes his heart ache in the best way.
You look...truly resplendent, Detective.
Hmm. You look pretty amazing yourself. Love the suit.
He adjusts his lapels, then his cufflinks. What, this old thing?
She laughs out loud, much to the confusion of those around them, but neither of them cares at the moment. Her eyes dart briefly down to Lucas’s car seat and she shakes her head, shoulders shaking in laughter. Really? Baby Armani?
Tom Ford, but close enough. He had to look his best today of all days, Detective!
I love it.
He softens. I love you.
Chloe bites her lip as she finally reaches him. “I love you, too,” she murmurs, reaching out for his hands.
Linda, Emily, and Trixie take seats on the folding chairs they brought for the occasion. Amenadiel takes Lucas’s car seat and joins them. Lucifer looks around briefly at their small audience of witnesses, then to the extraordinary woman standing before him, and thinks, Yes, this is all I need.
He turns and nods to Wally, who smiles at them and begins speaking. “We are gathered here today to formalize the union of Lucifer Morningstar and Chloe Decker...”
Lucifer tries to listen, as this is likely quite important, but all he can focus on is Chloe. He can’t recall ever seeing her this happy, as though it’s radiating from her soul outwards, shining through her skin and giving her a slight glow. And she isn’t looking at Wally, either; she’s looking back at him like she couldn’t take her eyes off of him if she tried.
He can’t help himself. See something you like, Detective?
Laughter fills her eyes, and their soul-bond, and he expects a sarcastic response. Instead, she prays, Definitely. I see my handsome Devil. But we should probably pay attention...
I would much rather look at you. And doesn’t that just sum him up...
“Lucifer and Chloe have decided to speak their own vows. Lucifer, if you would begin.”
He squeezes Chloe’s hands, glancing briefly at Wally’s expectant expression, then back to his beloved. “Right, yes, suppose that’s my cue...” He takes a breath, letting it out slowly. But suddenly, everything he thought up to say to her in this moment has vacated his mind. So he comes up with something new.
“Chloe,” he says softly. “My Detective... When you first walked into my life, I was in...utter darkness. I was bored of bloody well everything, and deep down, I knew there was...something missing in me. Something I’ve searched for for quite some time and never found it amidst the drugs and the booze and se—”
Trixie’s here, keep it PG, Morningstar.
His lips twitch. “—nseless fun,” he corrects himself. She rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling as she shakes her head. “And then you walked up to my piano with your little notepad and your sarcasm and defiance, and your take no nonsense attitude. And you were utterly...” he pauses for effect, “unimpressed with me.”
Chloe laughs. “Truer words, never spoken...” she teases.
“And I was completely befuddled, but at the same time, I had never been more intrigued by a human in my exceptionally long life. In the time since, you’ve graciously allowed me to become your partner, and then your friend. Gradually, I began to feel the light returning to my life; it brought me to life for what felt like the first time ever.
“I once stood on this very spot and told you that you deserve someone better, someone worthy of all that you are—and that that was not me. Apparently, you disagreed, because you kissed me. But ever since, I’ve been trying to be better, so that I could be worthy of you. And you, Detective, make me feel worthy everyday, simply by loving me and accepting me when so few others ever have. You’ve taught me what it is to be a partner and a friend, and how to be in a relationship. Chloe, you’ve taught me how to love. Because you love so completely that I am downright spellbound by you.
“Now, I don’t know if I’ve achieved worthiness—”
“You have,” Chloe interrupts without hesitation. Then bites her lip, and mouths, ‘Sorry.’
He winks at her. “—but I will spend every day for the rest of our eternity ensuring that I am. Though I am nigh on perfect,” he adds with a smirk, just to make her laugh, “I can’t promise perfection, because, well, I don’t lie. But I give you my word that I will only give you the best of myself. After all you have given me, it is the very least that I can do.
“And you’ve given me so much, Chloe.” His voice starts to get choked up as his eyes drift away briefly towards his son and his step-Urchin. “Your friendship, your acceptance, your love. A home and a family. Things I never believed I desired, or deserved, let alone that I could have. I give you my word that I will love you and protect you with all the considerable power that I possess until my final breath. I choose you, Chloe, now and forever, because I love you.”
He stops only because he doesn’t think he could go on in that vein without becoming a pathetic, crying mess on the beach, and while he’s a man enough Devil that he doesn’t care about tears, he’d at least like to get to the end of the bloody ceremony.
Chloe, on the other hand, is crying through the most loving smile she has ever bestowed upon him. He reaches up to gently wipe away her tears with his thumb. Before he can pull his hand back, she grabs it and kisses his knuckles. “That was beautiful, Lucifer,” she whispers.
I mean every word.
She nods. I know.
“Chloe, would you like to speak your vows?”
Again, she nods, still holding his hand. “Lucifer. I, uh, was not your biggest fan when we first met.” He laughs, and so do their witnesses. “In fact, I believe my words were something along the lines of, repulsive on a chemical level.” He smirks at her. “I mean, I found you attractive and all, but...then you opened your mouth, and suddenly, you were less attractive,” she says, her eyes shining with mischief.
“But you were the only person in my corner, right from the very beginning. You believed in me and my capabilities, and it had been so long since I had that, I’d forgotten what it was like. You helped me find my confidence again, even if I wanted to strangle you half the time.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “And you reminded me what it was like to have a friend, a real friend, who was there when I needed him the most. Who had my back unconditionally. You also reminded me how to have fun, and to live in the moment. That it’s okay to bend the rules sometimes and that not everything is black and white.
“I was thinking about it today, and I thought about that morning in my kitchen at the apartment, the first time I made you my dad’s egg sandwiches?”
The memory washes over him instantly, and he nods. “I remember,” he murmurs softly.
“You told me my father would be proud of me, which nobody has ever said to me. And then I hugged you, and I wanted to stay there...” she blows a breath out, smiling, “forever. And I think that was when I realized that I was falling for you. Don’t get me wrong, I raged against the idea.” He huffs a laugh. “But eventually, I came to the conclusion that I couldn’t fight it. And that I didn’t want to, because all I wanted was you.
“I’ve said it before and I will say it a million times: Lucifer Morningstar, you are the best partner that I could ever have—at work, in life, and in love. I couldn’t have chosen a better father for our son or a better step-Devil for Trix,” his lips twitch, eyes pricking again, “and I wouldn’t want to. Because you may not be perfect, but you're ours, and we intend to keep you.”
“Nowhere I’d rather be,” he murmurs, squeezing her hands.
“Lucifer, I promise to accept you for who you are, to love you unconditionally, and protect you from anything that means you harm—even yourself.” She raises a pointed eyebrow at him. He lifts one of her hands to his lips. “I promise that whatever happens, we will always work it out, because you are worth it—and you always have been. And we are worth it.”
“On that, we agree,” he says, choked up again.
Tears shine in Chloe’s eyes as well as devotion and adoration. His breath catches in his chest. “I’m yours, now and forever. And I choose you, too. I love you more than I can put into words, and I always will, no matter what. Partners ‘til the end, Lucifer.”
He doesn’t think before he’s leaning forward to capture her lips with his, needing to taste the words off of her lips. Somewhere around him he can hear faint laughter, but all he knows is Chloe—her mouth, her hand cradling his face, her scent surrounding him. He backs away when he remembers where they are...and why. And that they’ve not reached that part of the ceremony.
He isn’t sorry.
Chloe chuckles. “You can’t even follow the rules today,” she murmurs.
He gives her a crooked grin. “Devil, darling.”
Wally looks at Lucifer. “Lucifer, do you take Chloe as your wedded wife, from this day forward—to have and to hold, in good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health; will you love, honor, and cherish her for as long as you both shall live?”
It’s the easiest question Lucifer has ever been asked. He holds Chloe’s gaze, with a soft smile on his lips, and says firmly and clearly, “I do.”
Chloe bites her lip against a smile.
Wally turns to Chloe. “Chloe, do you take Lucifer as your wedded husband, from this day forward—to have and to hold, in good times and bad, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health; will you love, honor, and cherish him for as long as you both shall live?”
The smile she’s holding back breaks free. “I do,” she says, her voice strong, but trembling slightly.
Lucifer’s smile widens.
Wally clears his throat. “Do you have the rings?”
“Oh! Yes, of course.” He glances at Amenadiel expectantly. His brother stares back blankly. “The rings, brother.”
“Oh... My apologies...” Amenadiel rushes up towards them, reaching into his pocket, then he pauses, looking mildly panicked. For a moment, Lucifer wonders if he’s going to have to murder his brother on his own wedding day, but finally, Amenadiel finds the correct pocket, and hands Chloe the wider band and Lucifer the slimmer one.
Lucifer rolls his eyes as Amenadiel rushes back to his seat where Linda pats him on the knee. “And he is going to be co-God,” he says under his breath. Wally’s eyebrows furrow, but shakes it off as though assuming Lucifer is just eccentric. “You were saying, Wally?”
Wally smiles at their antics. “Lucifer, take Chloe’s hand, repeat after me, and place your ring on her finger.” Lucifer takes Chloe’s left hand in his, his thumb brushing circles along her knuckles. “‘With this ring, I thee wed.’”
A bit dated, but he’ll take it. Staring into Chloe’s eyes, he speaks the words, feeling his soul warm with the vows they’ve already spoken, and now this. “With this ring,” he states clearly and intently, “I thee wed.” He slips the ring onto her third finger, and feels his eyes Light up briefly. Thankfully, Wally doesn’t notice—or knows better than to comment.
“Chloe, the same,” She takes his hand, and hers is shaking with emotion. He squeezes her fingers soothingly and she gives him a joyful smile. “‘With this ring, I thee wed.’”
“With this ring,” she says, holding his wedding band at the tip of his finger, “I thee wed.” She slides the cool metal over his finger, looks up at him. His eyebrows furrow slightly when he sees her eyes flare faint blue for the briefest of seconds.
He can feel their souls intertwining tighter than ever before, like tree branches weaving together, the vows far more than words, and it literally takes his breath away. One glance confirms that it’s the same for her. Her lips part in surprise, but then Wally is speaking again, and they’re distracted.
“By the power vested in me by the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now—”
The impatient Devil isn’t waiting any longer; he crashes his lips against hers, cupping her precious face in his hands, and kisses her for all he’s worth—audience or not. She matches his intensity, one hand on his face and the other tangled in his hair.
“—kiss the bride...”
“Saw that coming,” he faintly hears Linda tell somebody.
Lucifer smiles against his wife’s lips, wrapping an arm around her waist and supporting her back as he dips her. She squeals in surprise, then laughs and continues kissing him, an arm thrown around his neck for something to hold onto. They’ve done this thousands of times at this point—small, chaste pecks, slow, lazy kisses, heated and passionate, and needy, desperate ones.
But this...this is the best kiss they’ve ever shared, because it's a sealing of their vows, communicating in the way they know best. And it is divine.
Slowly, he resigns himself to the fact that they are in public, and he still has some work to do with Chloe’s exhibitionist streak. He gently rights her and brings their kiss to a close, but doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to hers, smiling at her with all the love he has in him.
“Hello, Mrs. Morningstar,” he says in a low voice.
She smiles. “I like the sound of that.”
His eyebrows waggle. “As do I,” he murmurs suggestively. “Chloe...we’re married.”
She laughs, open and happy. “I know,” she murmurs, kissing him again. “Who’d have thought we’d end up here, together?”
“Oh, I did. I knew we were inevitable from the day we met, and I knew I needed to find a way to convince you to keep me in your life. I’m glad that I did.” It is undoubtedly the most understated thing that has ever fallen from his lips.
“I’m glad, too.”
Lucifer doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of staring into her eyes, but today especially; her eyes are so bright, sparkling like they contain starlight of their own. He starts to say something else, likely something incredibly romantic that will have her swooning for him even further, but they nearly topple over when something small crashes into his legs. Glancing down, he rolls his eyes at the sight of the Urchin grinning up at them toothily, and as much as he would rather be annoyed at the interruption, he can’t manage to hide his smile.
“Do you mind? We were having a moment,” he says mock-indignantly.
Trixie just shakes her head, her braids whipping back and forth as she wraps an arm each around Chloe and Lucifer. “No, I don’t mind,” she says happily.
He scoffs, but Chloe laughs, snaking an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “Did you like the ceremony, Monkey? Wasn’t too boring for you, was it?” she teases.
“No, I thought it was really romantic what you guys said to each other,” her daughter answers, then turns to Lucifer. “And now, you’re officially-officially my step-Devil!”
He snorts, his heart warming at the words and how it seems to make the child so happy. And honestly, he doesn’t entirely mind it himself. “I think one ‘officially’ will suffice, Urchin.” He glances over as his brother approaches. Lucas is wide awake and taking in the scene around him from the elder angel’s arms.
“I thought you might like to have your entire family present, brother,” Amenadiel says, smiling broadly. “Who’s that, Lucas? Is that your daddy?”
Lucifer scoffs again. “Please, do refrain from cooing at my son as though he’s some fluffy puppy dog. Of course he knows it’s me, I’m his favorite person.”
“Uh, excuse me?” Chloe says, pretending to be affronted. It’s difficult to take her seriously when she’s smiling so hugely. “I carried him in my body for eight months and gave birth to him. What makes you think you’re his favorite person?”
“Yeah, what makes you think you’re his favorite?” Trixie pipes up. “We all know I’m his favorite.”
Lucifer rolls his eyes at the both of them, knowing the truth of the matter, even if they wish to be obstinate about it. He takes Lucas from his brother, the infant squealing and giggling, and reaching for his father’s face. With his family in his arms, Lucifer has never felt more invincible—or lucky.
Perhaps the Devil can have a happily ever after, after all.
Their wedding dinner is burgers and fries, delivered personally to the beach by the owner of Chloe and Lucifer’s favorite diner. They all gather around on a large picnic blanket on the sand, Chloe practically in Lucifer’s lap, which made it difficult for them to eat, but neither had any intention of moving.
“Congratulations, Lucifer,” Linda says, sitting beside him on the blanket after dinner. Chloe and Trixie are down nearer to the water, and Chloe is lifting the bottom of her dress to keep it dry, laughing as her daughter splashes around and plays. Lucifer hasn’t taken his eye off of her all evening. “I’m so happy for you and Chloe.”
He smiles softly, watching his wife with his step-Urchin. Lucas is asleep in his car seat at his father’s other side, the excitement of the day wearing him out. “Thank you, Doctor. I’m feeling quite exuberant myself.”
“I can tell. And I wanted to tell you how deeply proud of you I am.”
Lucifer turns to her in surprise. She's the second person to exhibit pride in him today. “You are?”
Linda smiles, placing her hand on his knee. “Of course I am. Lucifer, I’ve watched you grow from the devil may care, playboy punisher who didn’t understand all these new feelings he had, to admitting your love for Chloe, to husband and father in three years. Most of my patients don’t achieve half of what you have in ten.”
“I’m still not entirely certain I understand all those new feelings,” he admits quietly. “But yes, I do seem to have found my place in the world. And you, Dr. Linda, helped me connect with the love of my life; there are no words to express my gratitude for all you’ve done for me, all you’ve taught me. And I know I’m not always the easiest patient—” Linda scoffs at the understatement; Lucifer smirks. “—but I do always listen to you. Eventually,” he adds at her yeah, right look. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. I wouldn’t have all of this.” He gestures between Lucas, then towards Chloe and Trixie. “So thank you, Doctor. For all you’ve done for me. I don’t say that nearly enough. I’m finally where I want to be and I think...I’m who I want to be.”
Linda tilts her head curiously. “And who is that?”
“Free,” he says simply, remembering what Amenadiel said—and actually agreeing with him for once. His heart aches in the best way possible and his eyes burn. “Living my life how I desire to live it. With the people who mean the most to me. It’s all I ever wanted when I first went to my father and asked Him to grant angels free will. And you were right, by the way: He admitted that we have always had it.”
He’s still coming to terms with that, with what it means: His rebellion and being banished to Hell wasn’t because he asked a question; it’s because his father needed a scapegoat, a cautionary tale for His other angelic children. Lucifer was the example for his siblings of what not to do; “obey, or end up like Samael”.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Linda says softly. “You deserved so much better, Lucifer.”
He sniffs. “Yes, well... Everything that I experienced and suffered led me to this moment—to Chloe. I wouldn’t change that for anything.”
“Enjoy it, Lucifer. Enjoy your freedom and your family.”
He smiles at her. “Any words of wisdom?”
“Don’t take them for granted. Always put them first, and they will do the same for you. Be yourself, and let them love you as much as you love them.”
Lucifer swallows a lump in his throat. “I will,” he promises softly, his eyes drifting to his sleeping son, then to his wife and step-Urchin. One thing he has struggled with in his time with Chloe is letting her in completely. He’s been so accustomed to locking everybody out with all the walls he’d built around his heart to keep from having it broken again. Chloe was the first to break down those walls, brick by brick, and never gave up on him, even when she probably should have.
His biggest fear used to be what happens at the end of Chloe’s mortal life. He would let her in and fall for her, only to have to say goodbye when she went to the Silver City, and he would be left behind, lost and broken. Knowing he will never have to face that day now has assuaged much of his reluctance. Even if she hadn’t been given the soul of an angel and Lucifer only had a few decades with her, it would have been worth it; he would have treasured those memories for eternity. Because Chloe is worth it; she’s worth everything.
Lucifer turns to Linda, who is watching him with a soft smile, and lifts an arm around her shoulders to pull her in for a hug. He kisses the top of her head and she wraps one of her arms around his torso. “Thank you, Linda.”
“You’re so welcome, Lucifer.”
Chloe has never felt so light, so utterly content, or so complete. She remembers back when, right after she and Dan got married, she’d been happy, of course, but once they walked out of the courthouse, it wasn’t this overwhelming feeling of joy. It was what it was—they were married, and then, Dan announced he had something to get done at work. And that was that.
Now, her eyes drift every minute or two towards her new husband, and her heart soars at the look of elation on his face, no matter what he’s doing or who he's talking to. They’ve barely kept their hands off each other, one of them constantly reaching for the other. The farthest they’ve been apart since she joined him on the beach was when she and Trixie walked down to the water.
Today, it feels like her family is officially complete—Lucifer, Chloe, Trixie, and Lucas—what else could she possibly need?
When it comes time for Linda and Amenadiel to take the kids home, having volunteered to watch both Trixie and Lucas for the night so the newlyweds could have time alone, Trixie first hugs Chloe, then Lucifer, once again telling him how happy she is to have him as her step-Devil. Lucifer quietly returns the sentiment, hugging her back without complaint and with an affectionate glint in his eyes. Chloe will never tire of seeing the two of them together.
“Be good for Linda and Amenadiel, Monkey. Keep an eye on Lucas for us, okay?” Chloe says, hugging her daughter again.
“I will, Mom,” Trixie promises. “What are you and Lucifer going to do tonight? Anything fun?”
Lucifer snorts, a downright dirty grin growing on his face. Chloe shoots him a glare. “We’re...just going to spend some time together.”
“Sounds boring.”
“Believe me, Urchin, a night with me is anything but boring,” Lucifer says, seemingly unable to help himself.
I am so going to kill you, Chloe prays.
I said absolutely nothing inappropriate, Detective. He gives her that innocent look that doesn’t fool anybody.
Chloe shakes her head. After saying good night to Lucas, and feeling a pang of being without both of her babies for an entire night, it’s just Chloe and Lucifer on the beach as far as the eye can see. The sky is dark and clear, and for once, there are even several visible stars, like they're all celebrating their creator's joy. Chloe stands at the water’s edge and stares up at them, smiling when a familiar pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind.
Lucifer leans down, resting his chin on her shoulder and his cheek against hers. “Alone at last,” he says, his voice low and seductive. “And have I mentioned how much I love your dress, Mrs. Morningstar?”
She’s sure her smile is idiotic at the sound of the moniker. It’s far from the first time he’s called her that, but she still feels giddy every time. “Hmm, you might have mentioned it.” A dozen times or so... “I thought you’d like it. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect.”
“And on you, it makes you look downright ethereal.” He presses soft kisses along her jawline. “I’ve plans for you tonight, darling.”
“I thought you might. Ready to go home?”
“Oh, we aren’t going home,” Lucifer announces. Chloe blinks, turning to him questioningly. “I thought we should do something special to commemorate, and consummate, our marriage.” He gives her a leering once over.
She shivers at the sound of his voice, which promises mind-blowing pleasure. “And where might we be going, then? We didn’t pack any clothes or anything...”
“All taken care of,” he assures her. “And it’s a surprise. Sure you must be familiar with the concept by now.”
Rolling her eyes, but unable to wipe the smile from her face, Chloe turns completely to kiss him, placing a hand on his cheek. He sighs into it, immediately granting her access when her tongue darts out to tease the seam of his lips.
They’ve been together for a year and a half now, and Chloe doesn’t think she will ever tire of kissing him. His skill is unmatched, and though she used to get jealous from thinking about how he refined that skill, now she considers everyone before her to be practice. None of them got to see the real Lucifer Morningstar—the soft, sweet man who just wants to be loved and accepted for who he is. They never got to experience the purposeful, reverent look in his eyes when he says, I love you, and hears it back. Or see how gentle he is with his son as he sings him to sleep at night with a look of utter devotion and adoration on his face. They never got to know him, past the Devil and the sex-on-legs playboy. All that he is, is Chloe’s, and vice versa.
They fly to...wherever they’re going, Chloe in Lucifer’s arms, still wearing her wedding dress. She spends most of the flight with her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Every so often, he’ll bend his neck down to brush a loving kiss across her forehead, or just stare at her with reverence and astonishment in his eyes. She’ll never forget the way his face lit up when he first saw her walking towards him on the beach, the way all of him lit up, his skin literally glowing softly.
She can hardly believe they’re here like this today, after the nightmare that was the angel war yesterday. It feels as though it all happened months ago rather than hours. And she is so glad Lucifer suggested this; she didn’t want to wait another two months, either. There will likely be Hell to pay with certain people—her mother, for one; and as she told Lucifer, Ella won’t be thrilled, either—but she doesn’t particularly care. She and Lucifer needed this, she thinks. Something that is just them, Chloe and Lucifer—from strangers to partners, to friends, to soulmates. They’ve been through literal Hell and back, and they did it together, the way it was always meant to be.
Chloe looks forward and sees soft, flickering lights through the darkness. It takes her a minute to get her bearings, but as Lucifer descends to land, she recognizes their destination immediately. She smiles. She’s only been here once, the day Lucifer taught her to fly, but she loves this house and the property surrounding it.
“Aurora Del Mar,” she says softly as they gently land on the grassy peninsula surrounded by sea waves crashing into the rocky walls, the only noise around them.
Lucifer smiles down on her. “You seemed to like it here before; and teaching you to fly is one of my fondest memories,” he says softly, making no move to set her on her feet.
She lifts an eyebrow at him. “You mean, when I spent the day snapping at you and crash landing on my face?”
He shakes his head. “The day you refused to give up, no matter how many times you crash landed, until you succeeded, which I knew you would. I’d never been more proud of you. And seeing how happy you were when you got the hang of flying... Well, it made me happy, knowing I was part of it. I never smiled so much in one day than I did watching you zooming across this yard like a blue hummingbird.”
“You were an excellent teacher,” she tells him, one hand on his neck while her thumb caresses his jaw.
He scoffs. “Of course I was,” he retorts arrogantly, smirking at her. “I'm an excellent everything.”
She kisses the smirk right off of his face, something she secretly spent two years wanting to do before they got their acts together. “Are you going to put me down?” she murmurs against his lips.
“Absolutely not,” he scoffs again. “I believe there is a tradition involving the carrying of a bride over a threshold to fulfill.”
Perhaps she would complain, but she enjoys being in his arms too much. He walks across the backyard towards the house that’s quite modest for the Devil’s usual tastes in properties, and Chloe can see the large fireplace has been lit. The lights in the rest of the house, that she can see from here, are dim or off completely, but there’s something flickering in the back hallway leading towards the bedroom.
He holds her gaze as he opens the door, reverence, joy, hope, and love in his eyes, all for her, and as they cross the threshold into the main room of the house, he leans down and kisses her, slow and sweet. She hums into the kiss, one hand on his face, and lets go of everything that isn’t them. Just for tonight, they can pretend the world around them doesn’t exist—no work, no kids, no celestial bullshit, no Godhood.
Reluctantly, he finally sets her on her feet. “Champagne, my love?” he suggests.
“Yes, please,” she agrees easily.
Smiling, he leads her by the hand to the living room where a silver bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne that probably costs a ridiculous amount of money awaits them. Oh, well, it’s their wedding night; if this isn’t an excuse to indulge, she doesn’t know what is. She notices the coffee table is missing; in its place, is a large blanket and several pillows in front of the fire.
Lucifer pours them each a flute and hands her one, still never once taking his eyes off of her. “To us,” he says softly, holding his in between them, “and the beginning of what will undoubtedly be an incredible new chapter of our lives. I cannot express how elated and eager I am to see where this path takes us. And I know that whatever happens, so long as I am walking it with you, I shall never be lost again to the darkness, because you will be there to light the way. I love you, Chloe Morningstar,” his lips curl into a disbelieving smile at the name; her heart warms and soars, “and I always will.”
“I love you, too, Lucifer Morningstar. And yes, to everything you just said,” she says with a wet laugh.
They settle on the blanket against the pillows, one of Lucifer’s arms around her shoulders and her legs draping over his, and watch the fire, soaking in the moment. Every so often, he leans over to kiss her hair or her temple or cheek, for seemingly no other reason than he desires it, not that Chloe has complaints, of course. In fact, this feels like the first moment since before Lucifer went to his mother’s universe and didn’t return for two months that she feels truly relaxed. After his return, the discussions about who would become God commenced, then preparing for an angel war... There was always something else that demanded their attention; they didn’t have time to just...exist together, certainly not like this, right here, right now.
“I’m so glad we’re here,” she says softly, tilting her head back to look at him.
The fire is flickering in his brown eyes and it’s mesmerizing. He looks down at her, that soft smile constantly on his face today. “As am I,” he murmurs, lifting the hand around her shoulders to play with her hair. “This has been the best day of my life, Chloe. I know I say that often, but it’s true every time; all my best memories are with you and the children.”
“Mine, too,” she agrees.
His eyes flicker down to her lips, then he’s leaning in to kiss her, fingers brushing along the side of her face. It starts out slow and sweet, Chloe’s free hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating through his shirt. Then he hums, his tongue darting out to tease her bottom lip and his teeth capture it, scraping lightly. She opens at his request and he deepens the kiss, wrapping his tongue around hers in ways that shouldn’t be possible—is a double-jointed tongue a thing? She has to force back a laugh at the thought of him with a forked tongue, but even that has its possibilities.
Lucifer takes her champagne flute and sets it aside along with his and turns towards her, cupping her face with both hands. He’s making little noises of delight and pleasure at the back of his throat, then one of his hands slides down her body, brushing alongside her breast on its way to her left thigh. He tugs, making his desires clear; Chloe lets him guide her so that she’s straddling him, her hands on either side of his neck, her thumbs resting at the hinge of his jaw and feeling how his muscles move. Lucifer drags his mouth away from hers, trailing kisses along her cheek to her jaw to her ear.
“What do you truly desire, Chloe?” he asks breathlessly, tugging on her earlobe with his teeth.
She can barely think just from kissing him. She’d have thought by now the effect that he has on her would have lessened, or at least, that she would have gotten used to it; it’s yet to happen, and at this point, she doesn’t have high hopes. She doesn’t mind that, either.
“You,” she whispers. “Just you, Lucifer.”
He hums against her neck as he kisses along the slope to her collarbone. “What a coincidence...” he murmurs, licking then nipping her skin. “I just want you, too...”
“Guess we’re pretty well matched, then.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” he whispers fervently. “And I can’t bloody wait to get this dress off you.”
Chloe thinks about what she’s wearing beneath the dress—the wedding boutique today also specialized in wedding night attire—and what Lucifer’s reaction will be. “Neither can I,” she tells him.
Looking up at her with a positively sinful grin, his hands begin roaming naked back. “Well, I wouldn’t wish to keep my wife waiting,” he says seductively.
“You really like saying that, don’t you?”
“You don’t like hearing it?” he asks with a knowing raised eyebrow.
“Oh, I didn’t say that,” she counters, leaning down and tilting his head back until their lips are millimeters apart. “Whatever my husband desires...”
His pupils instantly dilate and the brown in his irises darkening to nearly black, and he growls. “Chloe...”
His fingers slide up on either side of her spine, his touch light enough to make her shiver but not tickle. When he brushes along where her wings are hidden she moans, resting her forehead against his. He finds shoulder straps of her dress and she can feel his hands trembling just a little in anticipation. Slowly, he lowers the straps over her arms, revealing more of her skin, inch by inch, short, blunt fingernails scratching lightly down her arms.
Somehow, it feels like their first night together, back when she’d just found out that he really is the Devil and he’d taken her on a lovely date to a clifftop in Griffith Park, then dancing in Lux. She feels that nervous anticipatory sensation in her belly, which is, frankly, absurd, since they’ve done this so many times since then—it has to be in the high hundreds—and she hasn’t been shy about her body since those early few months with him. They had sex this morning, for someone’s sake! And after some of the things they’ve done together...
Maybe it’s because it’s their wedding night, which in itself is monumental. Whatever it is, she has those first time jitters as he gazes with great appreciation at her body. Then he’s leaning in to capture one of her nipples between his lips like he can’t quite help himself, and doesn’t want to, humming around it, and one of his hands goes to her other breast.
She breathes out his name, pressing her face to his hair, still thinking about their first time together. How gentle and tender he had been, how reverent and disbelieving. He constantly checked on her comfort level, asking her consent with every piece of clothing he removed. Then he made her feel things she hadn’t known were possible, and not just physically. They’d literally had one successful date, and she already knew she loved him more than she’d ever loved another; that there would be nobody after him. Lucifer Morningstar was it for her. He gave her the best night of her life, but not for the reasons others had for using the term; because he gave her all of him that night, and every night since, which isn’t something he’s given anybody else in his insanely long life.
“Exquisite,” he whispers exactly as he did their first night together—with a half-groan, half-sigh—leaning back to take her in. She’s still wearing the lower half of her dress, but he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry tonight. “You’re exquisite, Chloe.”
She smiles, biting her lip, and reaches out to start unbuttoning his waistcoat. “You should take these off...” she whispers back, just as she did that night—only then he was a bit less dressed, wearing only his trousers.
His eyes light up in recognition of her words, then he smirks. “Oh, I will, but not just yet, darling...” Of course he remembers every word they said that night; not that she’ll forget in a hurry, either.
Before she knows what’s happening, he’s got her on her back and is leaning over her, kissing from her jaw down her body. He licks a line across where the dress is bunched around her hips, then pulls it down and off her, groaning in appreciation of the lacy, white panties she has on.
“You’re going to kill me, Detective...” he moans, kissing his way back up the inside of her leg.
“Pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to die,” she says teasingly.
Amusement glimmers in his eyes. “Oh, it’s like that, is it?” He nips at the skin just above her kneecap. “I need my wife’s permission to die?”
“Definitely,” she says, her voice growing increasingly breathier the closer he gets to where she wants him. “And that isn’t something I’ll be granting, so get it out of your head.”
He chuckles against her inner thigh. “Yes, dear.” His tongue trails the way up and she spreads her legs wider, but then he smirks at her and slides down, kissing her other leg, starting with her ankle.
She groans in frustration, feeling his puff of laughter against her calf.
“We have all night, my love,” he reminds her in that hypnotic, seductive tone. “And I intend to take. my. time.” He presses another kiss to her skin with each word, nipping then soothing on the last one.
“You are so the Devil...”
His eyebrows waggle at her. “Guilty.”
When he finally arrives at the apex of her thighs, he kisses and licks everywhere but where she most needs him, and when she tries to lift her hips towards his mouth, he holds her down. The tip of his tongue dips into her entrance, lapping a few times, then slides up and finally circles her clit. His lips close around it and she gasps in relief at the flicking motions of his tongue. He hums in delight at her response as her fingers slide into his hair to hold him in place, the reverberation shooting straight through her entire body.
But he doesn’t remain there, of course; the moment he senses she’s on the verge of an orgasm, he moves away, completely ignoring her frustration.
I always take care of you, Chloe, he prays, eyes locked on her face. Don’t I? She nods, unable to even manage a return prayer right now, already feeling mindless with need. Just relax and enjoy, love.
Lucifer slips one finger inside her to the knuckle, curling it against her inner wall and drags it lightly out. She moans loudly, then a second finger joins it. His lips find her clit again and he does that thing she likes, over and over again.
It amazed her how quickly he figured out what she liked most; some of her exes never discovered it, and Dan was weird about oral. But Lucifer paid close attention to every detail about her, from the time they were just partners and friends, so perhaps it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that he would be just as attentive, if not more so, during sex.
She feels her orgasm start to build, slowly, a growing wave of pleasure, until it crashes over her and she sees stars, crying out his name while her fingers grip his hair so tightly it must be painful—he never complains, reveling in the feeling of it. He works her through it, groaning along with her, always taking pleasure in her pleasure. When she opens her eyes again, he’s beside her, leaning over her, one of his hands on her belly rubbing in soothing motions.
He smiles lovingly. “Welcome back,” he murmurs.
She hums in response, reaching for him. He comes eagerly and kisses her, letting her taste herself on his tongue. Gripping one of his biceps, she pulls him on top of her so that his weight is pressed against her. She’s never felt claustrophobic or uncomfortable like this, the way she did with others; she loves feeling him like this, pressed against her, surrounding her. Protecting her. Her arms wrap around his neck and lower back, one hand sliding down to cup his ass. The sound he makes in his throat isn’t human, and he presses his cock further into her belly.
“Want you...” she breathes against his lips.
“You have me, Chloe,” he breathes back. “I am yours entirely.”
Her body lights up at the words; he’s been hers for years, or according to him, from the moment he set eyes on her, but now, tonight, it’s official: The Devil is hers for eternity, her husband. She whimpers at the thought, reaching between him to wrap her fingers around his cock, hard as steel. If she weren’t feeling so needy and impatient, she might roll him over and go down on him, but they have all night, like he said; she can do that later, once they’ve both been somewhat sated.
He growls when she starts to stroke him, thrusting into her hand and lifting to rest his weight on his elbows so that he can look down and watch. She can feel him twitch in her hold, impatient to be inside her. She knows the feeling. Lining them up with one hand, Chloe uses the other to cup his face, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips crash against hers, this kiss full of fire and pure lust.
Another thing she will never tire of is the feel of him sliding inside her, their bodies joining. She half-expects him to dive straight in, to match what’s going on with their lower halves to their kiss. Instead, he slides in slowly, letting her feel every hot, hard inch of him, until his hips are flush with hers, then he stills, letting them both enjoy the feel of it.
“Always so good,” he whimpers, his eyebrows furrowed with emotion. “I love you so much.”
Brushing her hand down his face, his beard soft against her palm, she nods. “I love you, too,” she exhales in a sigh of contentment. Her legs wrap around his waist, the heels of her feet digging into his ass. “Lucifer.”
He nods, swallowing hard like he’s trying to rein in his control...except, she doesn’t want him to; she loves it when he loses control. Slowly, he pulls out until he’s almost left her completely, sliding back in just as slowly. She whines, burying her face in his neck. Gradually, though, he picks up the pace, groaning and grunting, and she can never get enough of the sounds he makes in bed—always so vocal, even in this. His hips snap into her on a sharp thrust, hitting exactly the right spot and making her see stars again.
She cries his name and he growls, pushing up on his palms, looking down between them. She follows his gaze, watching as he moves faster and harder, disappearing into her. “I’m close,” she pants, gripping his arm and shoulder.
His eyes change, but not Hellfire red the way they do when he loses control; they blaze white with the light of the Lightbringer. He moves one hand beneath her to lift and angle her hips. Every stroke hits that spot inside her, sending wave upon wave of mindless pleasure through her body. “Come for me, Chloe,” he demands with a growl.
She does, her head thrown back and her eyes squeezed shut.
“Look at me,” he commands sharply.
Her eyes snap open. His hair is mussed from her fingers; eyes still blazing light beneath his furrowed brow; his lips parted; his face flushed beneath a light sheen of sweat. He’s never looked more handsome—her Lucifer. “My husband,” she whispers.
He shouts, his forehead dropping to hers, and his hips falter, pistoning into her erratically as he wraps his arms around her. “My wife,” he says, his jaw clenched. A few more thrusts, and he buries himself as deeply as he can inside her, coming so hard his entire body shakes. He falls onto his elbows, unable to support himself.
Chloe strokes his hair as he whimpers and whines, his eyes clenched shut. But the light behind his lids is so bright, it shines through. In fact, his whole body seems to light up around her, just a thin sheen of glowing light on his skin, and she can feel his warmth in her soul. It’s the same feeling she had when they were saying their vows this evening, as if their souls were sealing a pact. She certainly hadn’t missed how his eyes glowed faintly white for a moment, nor how hers lit up in response.
Slowly, Lucifer calms and the light dims, but she can still feel it. He opens his eyes and they’re glazed, and full of love and reverence. He kisses her, slow and sweet, one hand cupping her face and his thumb brushing just beneath her right eye, where her beauty mark is. “That was...” His voice is rough and tender at the same time. He huffs a laugh, smiling. “I don’t think I’ve the words for what that was.” His eyebrows furrow and he looks uncertain for a moment.
“What?” she whispers, carding her fingers through his hair.
He opens his mouth, but what comes out isn’t any language she knows—it’s melodic and beautiful, and she can feel whatever he’s saying in her heart, lighting her up from the inside. And she realizes she's heard that language before; Lucifer sings to Lucas in it sometimes. Even when he stops speaking, she still feels that warmth.
“What language was that?” she asked, her voice little more than a breath.
He swallows. “Mine,” he murmurs. “The language of angels.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “What did you say?”
“It doesn’t translate, unfortunately, but it’s the closest I could come to describing how I feel.” He tilts his head. “Some amalgamation of incredible, elation, and undying love.”
Her eyes burn as she smiles. “It was beautiful.”
He smiles shyly, kissing her again briefly. “Certainly a new experience for me, literally lighting up during sex.” He laughs a little, and she groans at the sensation with him still inside her. “Sorry, love, are you uncomfortable?”
She shakes her head. “Not at all.”
“Good. I’d bloody well live here if I could.”
“That would make working a case a bit awkward, I think.”
He grins. “But imagine all the orgasms I could give you,” he purrs, ducking down to kiss her neck. She tilts her head back to give him better access.
“Imagine the HR nightmare,” she says, trying to use a flat tone, but...well, Lucifer is sucking on her neck; it’s impossible to focus.
“I’d get us out of trouble...”
She smiles; he’s so ridiculous.
When he does pull away from her, he settles at her side again, leaning on his elbow with his head on his fist, and just...looks at her. He looks so happy, like the weight of the world has finally been lifted off of his shoulders. It’s an expression she sees so rarely on him, and usually only when he’s asleep.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Morningstar?” he murmurs, reaching for her left hand and brushing his thumb over her wedding band.
“Happy,” is what she settles on. There are so many emotions running through her, but they all stem from that—she’s just...so happy. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted to marry Lucifer until today, even after they got engaged. It was never something she thought she needed, and would have been perfectly content if they just remained as they were. Either way, they’re partners; the details didn’t matter. But now that they are married...she can’t imagine ever going back to before. And it’s only the beginning for this chapter of their lives.
His expression softens even further. “As am I,” he says.
She reaches for his left hand with hers, entwining their fingers so their wedding rings are pressed together. “I like the look of this.”
He smiles. “Because it tells the world that I belong to you?”
She shakes her head. “Because it shows how far we’ve come—strangers to partners to friends to partners in everything...to this. It’s incredible.”
“Agreed,” he says softly.
“During our vows...did you feel...”
He nods. “I did. It felt like my soul was entwining around yours. I’ve always been able to...sense you, in a way. I always knew when you were nearby, then, after your divinity awoke, it strengthened, but this was...” He shakes his head. “I feel more at one with you now than I ever have before.”
“Me too,” she whispers.
He kisses her again, not like he’s trying to start another round, but like he simply needs to taste her. “Shall we take this elsewhere? I still have plans...” His eyebrows waggle, making her laugh.
“Take me to bed, Satan,” she says playfully.
Lucifer is on his feet in an instant, bending down and lifting her into his arms as if she’s light as a feather. Again, he kisses her, then grins like the Devil he is and darts down the hallway to the bedroom. Chloe laughs, barely noticing the white votive candles on the floor, lighting their way.
Notes:
One more chapter to go!!!
I came across this lovely artwork on Twitter a while back when I was writing this chapter. It wasn't created for this fic, but it was incredibly fitting, and the artist was wonderful enough to let me include it. So a shout out to dogatemythesis (Or on Bluesky: dogatemythesis). Definitely check out her work!
Chapter 32: Eternity Ever After
Notes:
One year ago today, I posted the first chapter of I'm No Angel. That was going to be the only story I posted. Clearly, that didn't work out. 79 fics, over 1.3 million words posted, and a bunch of ready-to-post fics in my folder later, here we are at the final (for now) chapter of the Angel By Design series. Suffice to say, I did not see this coming, but I'm still having fun, and there's no end in sight for me.
There do be smut in this chapter, because Chloe and Lucifer are horny as hell, and also some urine puns, because the Devil has the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy. Ye be warned.
Enjoy the final chapter of Eternal Angels!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Morning comes far too quickly for the newlyweds, sunlight pouring in from the floor to ceiling windows. Lucifer groans, squeezing his eyes shut against it and wondering why he didn’t think to close the blackout curtains in their room last night. Then he remembers where he is...and why. And he smiles.
He’s a married Devil now. Married to Chloe.
Opening his eyes he finds himself wrapped around her, arms around her waist, and their legs tangled, neither of them wearing a stitch of clothing. With no children to be concerned about traumatizing for life, they hadn’t bothered. The only time they weren’t pressed together, in one way or another, was when Lucifer went to retrieve more champagne and blew out the candles in the hallway to avoid a fire—both of them have been through enough fires for an eternity.
Well. This has potential...
Chloe is still fast asleep, one of her hands wrapped loosely in his, snoring in a way that would be obnoxious and annoying from anybody else. Her hair is a complete wreck. There are marks on her skin from his mouth, and stubble burn marks on other parts of her body. She looks like she’s been ravaged by the Devil—many times. Which she had been, so it’s fitting. But she’s beautiful as ever.
And completely, officially his.
His heart leaps at the thought. He hadn’t thought being married to her would feel any different than what they’ve been doing for the last year or so; they live together, have a child together, they share everything. But it does feel different, in a way he can’t quite describe—in the best way. It certainly feels different than his marriage to Candy; this time, it’s real.
He recalls fleeting thoughts he’d had when filling out the paperwork with Candy. The entire time, it felt like a business transaction and nothing more, which it had been. But he’d wondered what it would be like if Chloe had been there with him in Vegas instead. And suddenly, his heart ached painfully, longing for her.
Never again. I’ll never have to long for her again.
Leaning down, Lucifer kisses her softly along her jawline, then down her neck. She smiles in her sleep and hums a contented sound. He smiles in return, even though she can’t see him. Gently, he pulls the hand she’s holding away and her eyebrows furrow. Her fingers twitch as though searching for him. He slides his hand lightly down her bare torso, then beneath the covers, finding her already wet, and he wonders what she’s dreaming about; it must be good to get her in this state...
His fingers sink into her soft folds, gathering moisture, then move higher to her clit, moving in soft circles. She moans, arching her hips towards his fingers. He smirks at the response. She sighs as he slides his fingers inside her, curling them in the come hither motion she enjoys so thoroughly, and he wonders if he can get her off in her sleep or if she’ll wake up.
Only one way to find out...
Kissing the crook of her neck, he sets to work using every trick in his book. Her head falls back onto his shoulder and he kisses her cheek, then resting his own there. The only sounds in the room are the soft, needy ones she makes, still sleeping. He feels her muscles tighten around his fingers; she’s getting close...
Chloe’s eyes flicker open when his thumb finds her clit again. She moans louder. “Lucifer...”
“Good morning, Mrs. Morningstar,” he purrs into her ear. He’ll never tire of calling her that.
She bites her lip, curling an arm behind his head, fingers in his hair, and pulling him closer. When she turns her head, he kisses her. She’s a little slow to respond, having just woken up, but kisses him back, whimpering into his mouth. His hand moves faster, pressing firmer circles on her clit, and she comes abruptly with a drawn out moan.
Lucifer works her through it, still kissing her ravenously, and when she comes down, still shuddering in his arms, he slowly pulls his fingers out and immediately sticks them into his mouth, humming as the unique taste of her explodes on his tongue.
“That’s one way to wake up,” she pants, a smile on her lips.
“I believe I have mentioned before that we should start every day like this,” he reminds her.
She nods. “You did. And I certainly see the merits of it. It’s just difficult with two kids to manage.”
“There is that.” The old him would have said something along the lines of “more reason to never reproduce”, but this version of him...well. He’s quite enjoying fatherhood, even with the challenges it brings to their sex life.
Chloe rolls over to face him. “Good morning, Lucifer.”
He smiles, leaning in to kiss her again. “Good morning, again, Detective,” he murmurs against her lips.
Her hand slides between them and wraps around him, stroking. “I believe we’re a bit...uneven...”
He moans. “Yes,” he sighs dreamily, “can’t have that, can we?”
She grins and gives him a wakeup call of her own.
Berta, his housekeeper, stocked supplies in the fridge to make omelets this morning, as he requested, so with Chloe sitting at the small table by the window, sipping her latte, he cooks for his wife for the first time. He gets a giddy feeling every time he thinks the words ‘his wife’ or hears her call him ‘my husband’. Like fatherhood, marriage is something he’d been completely against even the concept of, believing it to be a sham. There are thousands upon thousands of souls in Hell for murdering their spouses, or abusing them, or for being unfaithful. Then there was shackling oneself to another person for eternity.
But with Chloe, he just feels...free, as he told her yesterday when she made a joke about shackling. It doesn’t feel like he’s cutting himself off from all the pleasures the world has to offer, because he has everything he needs with her. He isn’t bored, because every day is different from the last, especially with Lucas and Trixie in the mix—never a dull moment. He’s just...complete.
The only marriages he’s seen in action firsthand were his parents’ and the tail end of Chloe’s, neither of which ended well. In fact, they both ended in betrayal—his father threw his mother into Hell and locked her away; Daniel lied and manipulated Chloe for months. At the very least, he knows what not to do; he’ll never lie to her, and he’ll certainly never lock her in Hell.
Low bar, there...
He recalls Linda’s advice from yesterday about not taking his family for granted, being himself, and always putting his family first. Those are all doable, he thinks, though he’s under no illusions that it will always be easy; after all, he and Amenadiel are about to start new jobs as co-Gods. And Lucifer has no idea what to expect in the coming months. What he does know is that if this new job comes between himself and his family, it will be an easy choice to make; he never truly wanted to be God for reasons other than preventing Michael from getting the job. He’ll have no trouble washing his hands of it and leaving it to Amenadiel. His brother would make a better God than he would, anyway. Their siblings would likely prefer that...
Chloe and the children come first. Before everything, including the universe itself.
Arms wrap around him from behind and Chloe kisses his bare back along his spine, resting her cheek there. “Miss me?” he teases.
“Maybe,” she replies. “I’m glad we decided to take today off work; there’s no way I’d be able to avoid people finding out we’re married.”
He chuckles. Yes...perhaps he was a bit hasty making that suggestion, but the premise of it is appealing. “Well, we could always walk into the precinct and see how long it takes Miss Lopez to spot our new bling.” He holds up his left hand, wiggling his ring finger.
Chloe snorts a laugh. “About two-point-five seconds is my guess,” she says wryly. “You don’t want to keep it secret anymore?”
Part of him does; part of him wants to keep Chloe to himself and never share her with anybody, but he knows that is far too greedy of him and not at all practical. But the other half of him wants to shout from the rooftops how bloody lucky he is, being able to call himself her husband. He wants to show her off and introduce her to people as his wife. It doesn’t matter to him if she intends to keep ‘Decker’ as her surname at work—that is entirely her decision; he’ll know the truth, no matter what.
“I suppose I’m a bit conflicted on the subject,” he says carefully.
“It does feel a bit impractical,” she says apologetically. “And I really don’t want to have to take off my wedding ring.”
He chuckles. “No, neither do I. So, perhaps, we keep it to ourselves until we return to work on Monday, then allow everyone to draw their own conclusions?”
She releases him from her hold, moving around so she can see his face, but keeps one hand on his back. “Is that okay with you?” she asks.
Lucifer sets down the spatula and turns off the burner—the omelets are finished, anyway. “The only thing that matters to me in the end is that we are married. Everything else is...irrelevant. I’ll happily shout it from the rooftops, hire a billboard and a skywriting plane.”
“Yeah, still gonna stop you there,” she says dryly. He said the same thing after they first got together. “So...we’re in agreement about everything else? No secrets?”
“No secrets,” he agrees, leaning down to kiss her. “I am glad we kept the ceremony quiet, though, and we could always throw a huge bash at Lux. Miss Lopez will likely insist upon it.” Something occurs to him. He smirks. “Oh, dear...” He laughs.
“What?”
“How is she going to respond when she realizes she didn’t get to plan your hen night?” he says, still laughing.
She winces. “Maybe I can soothe her with having a Tribe Night soon?” she suggests hopefully. Lucifer just smirks at her. “Some help you are. She’s going to beat you to death with her shoe.”
His mouth falls open indignantly as he plates their breakfast. “Why on Earth would she beat me? I’m not the one who’s deprived her of girl-powered debauchery!”
“No, but you are the one who talked me into getting married two months early. You...tempted me.”
He gives her a deadpan look, stifling his laughter. “Please, whatever you do, do not let your next words be ‘the Devil made me do it’.”
She grins at him. “You said it, not me,” she says smugly.
“Minx,” he accuses, handing her a plate. “Go eat your omelet, Mrs. Morningstar.”
“Still loving the sound of that,” she sighs happily.
So am I...
After breakfast, Lucifer reveals that he also had Berta purchase them outfits to wear so they aren’t rewearing yesterday’s clothing. He regrets the decision immediately when he realizes it means she isn’t putting her wedding dress back on. Still, she looks lovely in anything she wears—and better in nothing at all—so he pretends to pout while she rolls her eyes and laughs at him.
Both are reluctant to leave the house, knowing that getting back to the real world involves a lot more than simply picking up the offspring from Linda and Amenadiel’s, and sharing their marriage with the rest of their friends. There are massive changes coming their way, and they have no idea what those may entail.
Suddenly, Lucifer wants to grab Chloe, pull her back inside, and send a text to Linda to bring Lucas and Trixie here to Carmel, and never leave again.
Of course, Chloe sees his reluctance to step foot into the backyard and reads him perfectly. She turns back towards him, reaching for his left hand with hers, their wedding bands bumping—a soft, melodic, otherworldly metallic sound seems to ring around them.
“We’ve got this,” she says quietly. “Whatever happens, we do it together or we don’t do it at all. Yeah?”
“Yes,” he agrees without hesitation. “I wouldn’t want to do any of this without you, anyway, Detective. I do, however, wish we had more time for our honeymoon than a single night.”
She shrugs. “Who says we can’t?” she says reasonably. “We already have time off with the LAPD in August for the wedding and honeymoon; we’ll go then.”
“That sounds splendid,” he says, leaning forward and sealing the agreement with a kiss. He backs away with a sigh. “Right, then. Spawn Retrieval duty, is it?”
Chloe gets a mischievous grin on her face and slowly starts backing away from him. “Race you.” Then her wings unfurl with a snap, shimmering in the late morning sun, and she’s in the sky before he fully processes what’s happening.
“That little minx...” This is the second time this week she's done that to him.
Grinning like an idiot, he unfurls his wings and takes off after her.
By the time he catches up to her, a truly spectacular idea has occurred to Lucifer, one he has wanted to try from the first time he ever flew Chloe in his arms. The idea has strengthened since Chloe became immortal and invulnerable. And knowing she has wings and can use them if anything goes wrong...well. The best part is, it’s all one big experiment—one Lucifer is more than happy to investigate.
Do you trust me, Detective? he asks her right before he catches up.
She glances over her shoulder at him and he can see her raised eyebrow. Not with that grin on your face, she retorts. Why?
Because I’ve just had a truly intriguing, brilliant idea. He’s flying right beside her now, grinning at her like the Devil he is and already working out logistics—starting with what happens to their clothing. He can practically feel her uncertainty. Three words: Mid-air. Freefall. Sex.
Chloe stares at him. Her wings falter for the briefest moment in stunned surprise. I’m sorry, what?
You and I fly up to the very edge of Earth, get naked, and...well, I think the rest is rather self-explanatory?
Lucifer, no, absolutely not. It’s daytime, for one.
If that’s your only objection, we’ll head out towards the water, Detective. I’ve an app that shows me aviation traffic, and... Pulling out his phone, he brings up the specified app and smirks in satisfaction. No airplanes for miles. Come on, Detective, you know you want to...
He knows because he can see the intrigued look in her eyes. She’s gotten so much more adventurous in their time together, far more than he could have ever hoped, and since she became invulnerable, sky’s the limit—literally. A new idea pops into his mind—space sex... He decides to keep that one in the back of his head for later perusal; assuming he can convince her that this is the best idea ever.
What about our clothes? she asks weakly, clearly looking for any last objection.
Darling, clothing can be replaced. We’ll fly straight home afterwards; I wouldn’t let anyone see my wife in the nude.
And I’m guessing you’ve got the...logistics all worked out?
He grins triumphantly. He’s got her. Indeed, I do...
He flies in front of her and hovers to a stop, catching her before she crashes into him, and leans in to whisper into her ear. “Wings away, my love.” To his surprise, she doesn’t hesitate, furling her wings; immediately, he pulls her against him, wrapping her legs around his waist. The idea has already taken root in her mind, her eyes are blown nearly black, and there is a faint flush on her face. “Oh, you like this idea, Detective...”
“It’s, um, interesting...” she hedges.
His smirk is sinful. “Hold on tight, darling.” She wraps her arms around his neck, and he takes off straight up and west towards the Pacific, laughing at her surprised, joyful shout. It only takes a few minutes to get high enough with celestial speed.
“Wow,” Chloe breathes in astonishment, taking in the view.
Not even Lucifer is unaffected by it, and he helped create it. They’re somewhere in the thin blue, protective line of the Earth’s atmosphere. Above them is just an expanse of blackness speckled with countless stars, nebulae, and other cosmic structures—intergalactic gas and quasars and galaxies. Even the edge of the Milky Way is visible. Where they are hovering, the blackness is just starting to fade to indigo, and below them, pure blue sky across the curvature of the world—distant tan land and an expanse of blue ocean. Honestly, he could hover here for hours, just enjoying the views alone, and never get bored. He turns his gaze to Chloe, who’s never seen anything like this in person and there are awed tears in her eyes.
“This is...”
He nods. “The literal definition of awesome,” he agrees. He can hear the awe in his own voice. “I never tire of it. I used to come up here when I left Hell sometimes, believing it was the closest to Heaven I’d get without leaving Earth. And going into actual outer space brought back too many memories, so I settled for this. I’ve never shared it with anyone. Of course, a normal human wouldn’t survive up here, and Mazikeen wouldn’t have appreciated it for the beauty that it is.”
“Trixie would be so jealous of us right now... I wonder if our phones would work up here to take pictures.”
He considers it. “I suppose, technically, they could, but it’s cold enough up here it might affect the inner workings of the phone, assuming they’ve survived. Probably best not to risk it. Besides, we’re up here for other reasons than sightseeing.”
She flushes again as though it slipped her mind in face of the view around them. “Right... How is this going to work, exactly?” she asks skeptically.
The fact that she is even going along with this plan skyrockets the pride that he has in her—and his eagerness to get started. “Well, first things first: We both have far too many layers.”
The next time they do this, if there is a next time, he’ll have to plan far more carefully. He simply couldn’t resist the idea of doing something special with her the day after their wedding. Lucifer is suddenly glad they decided to leave their wedding outfits in Carmel to retrieve later; losing them would have been a tragedy. Especially her dress...
In the end, they decide to simply lose the bottom halves of their clothing, this way, they don’t have to sacrifice their phones and wallets—it all goes into Lucifer’s suit jacket, which is then buttoned up to avoid it whipping around too much. He amuses himself imagining trousers, jeans, underwear, and shoes dropping from the sky and landing on some confused human’s head. Chloe rolls her eyes, lips pursed against a smile when he voices the thought, reminding him it will probably all burn up on re-entry, anyway.
The idea itself has gotten Lucifer plenty revved up, his cock already proudly, and eagerly, standing at attention. With Chloe’s arms around his neck, his hands are free, allowing him to get one between them to stroke her already soaking center.
“Oh, you do like this idea, darling,” he purrs against her ear, trailing kisses towards her mouth as his fingers circle her clit. “My naughty Detective.”
“You’ve been a bad influence on me,” she gasps as he increases pressure. “A terrible, awful influence...”
He crashes his lips to hers, stroking his tongue into her mouth as his fingers sink into her, finding that one spot on her inner wall that never fails to get a response.
I believe the words you’re looking for are devilish, delightful...sinful...
She hums into his mouth, whether an agreement or in response to his fingers doesn’t matter; one of her hands finds his hair and the other has joined his between their bodies. Her fingers wrap around him as best she can with the position of her legs around his waist and he’s lost. He keeps enough awareness to keep them hovering in the air and not fall too soon—he has plans.
Once she’s climaxed on his hand, gasping and grasping him tightly, which doesn’t take long, he doesn’t waste any time. After checking her level of sensitivity, he adjusts her so his cock is right at her entrance and pulls her down onto him. She cries out against his mouth and he groans into hers; he does love that sensation, especially when her walls are contracting around him as he pushes as deeply as he can go.
He pulls away from their kiss, needing to see her eyes for this. “Are you sure you want to do this? We could stay right here, just like this, and it will be just as satisfying.”
Perhaps freefalling is one step too far for their first mid-air sex session—
“I’m sure,” she pants, pressing her forehead to his. “I trust you.”
Those words will never cease to amaze him. Even though they’re both immortal, invulnerable angels, it would still do severe harm to them if they were to hit the ground—or even the ocean—and she isn’t hesitating. What happened to his always rational, reasonable Detective?
He bloody loves it.
“Okay. Just a warning, if we get too near the ground, or the ocean, in this case, before we finish, I intend to fly us back up.”
Her eyebrows furrow as though something just occurred to her. “And you’re okay with this?” she asks tentatively.
He laughs. “It was my idea, Detective.”
“No, I know, but...I know you don’t like, you know...falling...”
Ah. “This is different,” he says seriously. “It may be a freefall, but I’ve still full control over what happens and can stop at any time. My wings are fully intact, as are yours. And if either of us wishes to stop at any point, we’ll safeword, yes?”
Her lips twitch. “Monkeybottoms?”
“Monkeybottoms,” he agrees with a grin. “I’ll keep you safe, Chloe. You have my word.”
She nods. “I know.” She intentionally contracts her muscles, making him hiss. “Now, shut up and kiss me.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” he teases. Before she can roll her eyes at him, he crashes his lips to hers, reaching down to loosen her legs around him just enough that he can guide her hips.
Besides, I can kiss you and talk at the same time. Last chance to back out.
Not a chance, Satan.
He grins against her mouth. In that case. In three... Two... One...
He shrugs his wings away and for the briefest of moments, nothing happens and they're just hovering, then gravity takes over and they’re falling. Lucifer has to remind himself over and over that he has control, to focus on Chloe, that he can end this at any moment and she would never think less of him for it.
It’s such an odd sensation, the wind whipping around them as they fall, the way they twist and turn. All the while, he’s pulling her onto his cock by her hips, thrusting like a madman. And when that stomach swooping sensation starts to hit, he kisses her harder, distracting himself with the sounds of her moans and cries against his mouth and wind in his ears.
All right, love?
She nods frantically. So good... Don’t stop...
Never.
Just to see how it adds to the feeling, at one point he snaps his wings into being and soars. Chloe clenches in surprise and he groans loudly at the feel of her, flying them up again as he continues tugging on her hips, then lets them drop again.
There are simply no words to describe the experience—falling while fucking his wife... And perhaps it’s the sensation alone, or it’s knowing that Chloe agreed to try something so out of her comfort zone, or it’s just being inside her, but he feels himself reaching his climax far too soon.
With his mouth attached to her neck, he prays, Are you close?
“So close,” she whimpers, “Lucifer!”
She comes around him, shuddering and crying out, and he immediately buries himself in her, letting himself join her. Her orgasm heightens his, but as much as he would love to savor it, the ocean is coming towards them at an alarming speed. And from the sound of it, Chloe is in no shape to even consider emergency flight. He kisses her, keeping a close eye on their descent, waiting until the last possible moment to unfurl his wings again to allow them to soar above the water, cradling Chloe with his arms in case her grip loosens too much.
All right? he asks again.
Uh-huh.
He chuckles at her inarticulateness even in prayer. That was quite the experience.
One-of-a-kind. Next time, skin-to-skin...
Lucifer pulls back to stare at her face in amazement. “You’re bloody magnificent,” he breathes in awe and reverence. “Already talking about next time?”
“Well, I’ve learned from a certain Devil to live in the moment, and he’s never steered me wrong—at least, not when it comes to sex.”
He scoffs, mentally getting his bearings on where they are and aiming them towards home. “When have I ever steered you wrong, Detective?”
“Well, there was that time you broke into my house to make me breakfast and thought it was a good idea...”
“How dare you! I was trying to do something nice for you, Detective!”
“And then there was the time...”
They banter all the way back to Lux.
By the time they arrive at Dr. Linda and Amenadiel’s, it’s nearly lunchtime, between getting distracted by each other again and getting dressed then flying back to the beach for the Benz. Linda opens the door with Lucas in her arms and the smile that hasn’t left Lucifer’s face since yesterday widens at the sight.
“Who’s this, Lucas?” the doctor says to the fledgling, turning so Lucas can see his parents. His eyes immediately light up and he grins and squeals at them, already reaching for Lucifer, who happens to be closest to him.
“Well, hello, Gremlin, were you a good lad for Auntie Linda and Uncle Amenadiel?” Lucifer takes his son happily. Chloe reaches over and brushes back his curls affectionately.
“He was wonderful,” Linda confirms. “Though there was a bit of an incident when Amenadiel was changing his diaper. He assumed nothing would be different than it is with Emily, but, um, well...there was a...hosing incident, shall we say?”
It takes Lucifer a moment, then he bursts into laughter at the image. “Oh, Doctor, do tell me you got it on video!” He’s already got a list of puns to use at his brother’s expense.
Chloe is rolling her eyes, but her lips are twitching madly. “I didn’t even think to warn you guys about that,” she says, her voice shaking in laughter of her own.
“It was pretty hilarious,” Linda confirms, “but no, I did not think to get it on video. Sorry.”
“Shame,” the Devil says, his smile painfully wide. “And where is my brother, anyway? I do hope he’s not too pissed off about the incident.”
Chloe groans. “There’s no way to stop you from this, is there?”
Lucifer smirks at her. “Sorry, Detective, it’s a golden shower of an opportunity.”
She facepalms. “Linda, I apologize in advance. How was Trixie?”
“Such a big help,” Linda says, stepping back to allow them inside. “With Lucas and Emily...”
Lucifer leaves the ladies to it and goes in search of his brother, finding him in the kitchen feeding Emily. His smirk turns downright evil. “So, brother, I hear you’re number one in babysitting?” he says innocently.
Amenadiel looks over at him with a smile, the first pun flying right over his bald head. “Oh, thank you, Luci, that’s very kind of you. But truthfully, both Lucas and Trixie were delightful to have over. How was your night with Chloe?” He cringes as soon as the words are out of his mouth. “Actually, please do not answer that, I don’t want to know.”
The Devil smirks, adjusting Lucas, who is reaching for his pocket square. “Oh, it was quite lovely, really. Gave me a rather warm feeling, actually. And at least it didn’t rain, not where we were, anyway...”
His brother is still clueless—is he being too subtle? “Yes, the weather’s been remarkable lately.”
Oh, for the love of...
“Well, urine luck, brother, the Detective and I are here to pick up the spawn. And I heard you had a lovely shower last night.”
Amenadiel’s brow furrows. “What are you...?” Then his expression smooths out and he gives Lucifer a flat look. “Linda told you.”
“Well, you know how it is, brother, once the conversation begins, it just keeps flowing...”
“Real mature, Luci.”
“No need to get your knickers in a twist, brother!”
“Such a stellar example for your son that you’re setting.”
“Golden, one might say.”
Groaning, Amenadiel shakes his head and turns to his daughter. “Don’t listen to your Uncle Luci, Emily, he’s just a mean, mean man.”
“Honestly, Amenadiel, where is your sense of humor?” Lucifer asks, still grinning. “They say it’s better to get pissed off than pissed on; I suppose you would know.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Chloe says, joining them. Her eyes are dancing in amusement; he does love this woman... “Amenadiel, thank you for watching the kids last night.”
Lucifer nods. “Yes, I suppose it was quite kind of you, even though Lucas used you as target practice.” He looks down at his son proudly. “Well done, son.”
Amenadiel rolls his eyes. “You’re telling me that’s never happened to you?” he asks skeptically.
“No, because I’m clever enough to realize that it’s a risk with male anatomy. Honestly, you have the same bloody equipment.”
Trixie must have heard their voices from upstairs; the adults turn at the sound of stampeding elephants, then the Urchin is crashing into her mother. “Hi, Mom! Hi, Lucifer! Did you have fun last night?”
“It was quite literally out of this world, Urchin,” Lucifer says, shooting Chloe a grin. She just shakes her head, hiding a smirk, and hugs her daughter.
Linda invites them to stay for lunch, during which Lucas refuses to be set down, crying any time they try, so he spends most of the afternoon in his father’s arms. Not that Lucifer minds; he quite enjoys holding his son. He does manage to get in a few more urine-related jokes at his brother’s expense, much to his own amusement. Then after lunch, Lucas’s car seat is retrieved from Linda’s car and placed back in the Benz, and the Morningstar-Decker-Espinozas head back to Lux.
After an afternoon of family time, playing board games, watching movies, laughing, teasing, and just being together, both offspring have been put to bed for the night, leaving Chloe and Lucifer to their own devices. While she tucks in the Urchin, Lucifer pours them each a glass of whiskey, and heads out onto the balcony; Chloe will find him.
Leaning against the railing, he turns his eyes to the sky, as is his habit, and imagines himself back in the Silver City, not as an angel but as co-God. He’s been avoiding thinking about it since the battle at the coliseum, having far more important things on his mind, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before Amenadiel gets antsy about them getting to work, whatever that even entails.
As far as Lucifer knows, neither of them has any of the Omnis—he certainly doesn’t, and suspects Amenadiel would have been bragging if he had. Do they only kick in once they officially take the job? Or did their father take the Omnis with him?
Lucifer is torn on the subject—on one hand, it would likely be difficult to run the universe without their assistance; but on the other hand...well. Lucifer doesn’t particularly want them. He doesn’t want to know what his family and friends are thinking in a given moment, or everything that’s going to happen in the future. He enjoys being surprised (most of the time), and it would take all the fun out of life.
There’s also the concern about how well his siblings are going to cooperate under his and Amenadiel’s rule, but mostly his. Yes, the ones present at the battle bent the knee, but he had the flaming sword and had done what they believed was the unthinkable—he rescued a soul from Heaven and lived to tell the tale. The angels were under the impression that if Lucifer ever returned, he’d burst into flames and out of existence. Although, he now wonders where that theory originated—something tells him it didn’t come from his father.
Michael, perhaps? Probably Michael.
The only thing he and Amenadiel have actually discussed is that the other angels will take a more active part in how the universe is run—it won’t solely be on the Gods’ shoulders. Lucifer imagines there will be resistance to that; his siblings are accustomed to doing...whatever it is they do these days. He isn’t particularly looking forward to any of it.
He feels a hand on his back and smiles, passes her the second drink, then wraps an arm around her shoulders. “How are you, Mrs. Morningstar?”
Chloe leans against him, propping her chin on his chest. “So happy, Mr. Morningstar,” she says softly. He can see the truth of her words in her bright, glittering eyes. “You?”
“Positively euphoric.”
“What were you thinking about just now?”
He sighs. He doesn't want to burst their happy little bubble with this subject, and he knows that it will. “This...Godhood lark and the particulars thereof. I don’t imagine it will be long before Amenadiel wants to get to work.”
“Hmm.”
Lucifer looks down at her. Chloe is looking towards the sky with furrowed eyebrows. “Detective?”
“I guess I’m just not looking forward to losing you as my partner—at work,” she admits softly.
He frowns. “You won’t.”
She gives him a look. “Lucifer, let’s be real. At best, Heaven is going to be your day job. As much as I wish it were possible for you to do both...it might not be. It’s going to be difficult enough for you to balance Heaven and us—”
“You come first,” he says firmly. “Chloe, I already gave you my word on that. I vowed when I first found out that you were pregnant that I would never be like my father—I will never let anything come between me and my family. Not ever. I promised you yesterday that you would be my priority.” He cups her face in his hand. There’s a worried glint in her eyes that he doesn’t like. For the second time today, he asks, “Do you trust me, Chloe?”
“Yes,” she whispers without hesitation.
“Then trust me on this. Perhaps it will be difficult at first, but no matter what, we’ll find a way. Partners ‘til the end, yes?”
She closes her eyes, wrapping both arms around his waist and pressing her ear to his chest, over his heart. She’s been doing that a lot more since the battle, he’s noticed. As has he. “Partners ‘til the end.”
When she tilts her head up, he lowers his and kisses her slowly, and with all the love he possesses. It’s a promise and an affirmation. He wishes he could give her perfection, but even as a co-God, he doesn’t think he could pull that off, so he vows to get as close to it as angelically possible.
“You’re everything to me, Chloe Morningstar,” he murmurs when they break apart, “and you always will be.”
She smiles sweetly at the name. “Likewise, Satan,” she murmurs fondly. He chuckles. “You know I’m planning to keep my name ‘Decker’, yeah?”
He shrugs. “Call yourself whatever you like. But unless you’ve any objections, I’ll continue to refer to you as a Morningstar, at least at home.”
“I have no objections. I just didn't want you to be caught off-guard.”
“Darling, it would be the height of hypocrisy for me to complain about another’s name, even yours. And besides, it seems wrong for you to not be Detective Decker; that’s who you were when I fell in love with you, after all.” He’s staring into her eyes, soft and lovely, shining like the stars themse— “Oh! There’s something I wanted to show you...”
He turns towards the sky again, searching for long moments. At first, he thinks perhaps L.A. smog and light pollution won’t allow them to see it tonight, but... Ah, there... He takes one of her hands and folds down all but her pointer finger, then stands behind her, his front to her back, and lowers his chin to her shoulder to get the angle. He points towards a particular spot in the sky with her finger. “Do you see it? The blue star, there?”
It takes her a moment, but she nods, then stiffens in surprise. “Wait, is that...?”
“The new star that I created? Hmm.” His heart warms with pride. He spotted it the other night when he was out here, while the others slept, and spent damn near two hours staring at it. “I’m not entirely certain how we’re even seeing it already; it should be hundreds of lightyears away, if not thousands, but...well. There it is. Mozolprt.”
She gasps. “Lucifer, it’s beautiful,” she breathes in awe, then shakes her head and turns to him. “I know I already said it, but I am so, so proud of you. For everything you’ve achieved—creating the stars, surviving Hell and still being the wonderful, empathetic man that you are; for how much you’ve grown in the last three years—from the Devil to the Lightbringer to co-God... For being an incredible husband and father and partner...I’ve never been more impressed by one person in my life.”
He stares at her in awe. “Thank you, Chloe,” he murmurs, feeling rather choked up. “I can’t express what your faith in me means. Coming from the most impressive human I’ve ever known to an angel who has stood toe to toe with my siblings, someone who inspires me to be better day after day. My Miraculous Detective... Thank you for believing in me, Chloe.” He kisses her again, losing himself in it, in her.
He once asked Linda, “Since when does the Devil get a happy ending?” Her answer was, “Since now”, and told him to write his own story. And since then, he has—and there is so much more to tell. All that matters is that his family is there, at his side, as he sees how it will all play out—how they get to their eternity ever after.
Notes:
So I just want to say thanks to anyone who has followed this series from the beginning (I seriously cannot believe it's been a year), or joined along as it went. I really, truly appreciate all the love and support the Lucifer fandom has given me. You guys are awesome, and I am not done posting Lucific by a long-shot! Thank you for every comment and every kudos, or even if you're just lurking, thank you for reading. (I get it, I lurked for more than a year before I started to write and post.) It's been a rollercoaster of a year, but I've made some awesome, amazing friends, and got back into writing after six years of avoiding fandom altogether.
I do intend to come back to this series (eventually), once I get a bit more inspiration for the next part. I might throw the first chapter up at some point, but I'm not sure when I'll update it. In the meantime, I still have a bunch more up my sleeve. And your Thursdays will soon be filled with a new fic Searching for a Miracle, starting next Thursday. I hope you'll read it, but do mind the tags.
THANK YOU AGAIN for reading!!!! 🥰🥰🥰😈😈😈
Extra special thanks to MightBeAWriter for proofreading my fics and catching those evil pronouns and tense issues.
Also, MLGammella for listening to me whine, bitch, and moan when I get discouraged, and kicking my ass back into gear.
And last but not least, my favorite Greek, the_philologist for drawing this awesome image for this chapter. My very first fanart!!! I love it!
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