Her heart sank as he drank the wine. Not for the first time, Chloe questioned whether this was really the right decision. Kinley had implored her so. And clearly, he was the expert in the field. But maybe he was wrong? Maybe Lucifer wasn’t the monstrosity Kinley kept insisting he was. But Kinley had also made sure Chloe knew that Lucifer was the King of Lies. Again, something that seemed contradictory, that didn’t sit quite right with her, considering how she’d seen Lucifer so easily angered and upset by lies. But every time she’d debate the logic in her mind, the image of his face, all charred, brick-red, and menacing would jump to the forefront of her mind, and she’d stop.
The man who she’d gotten to know these last few years, the man who’d served alongside her for the good of Los Angeles, the man who’d become an additional father figure to her daughter.
The man whose closest friend was a literal demon.
The man whose brother was an angel.
Technically, Lucifer being the Devil made an awful lot of sense to Chloe.
Every loose end, every strange oddity, every event that seemed beyond the scope of humanity, all of them were satisfied by this simple fact.
But Chloe Decker was never one to dwell on the surface. She always strived for deeper meaning, for understanding, for every minute detail that explained why things were the way they were.
In this case, however. The details downright fucking terrified her. They did not help her to understand but only created more question, more doubt, more overwhelming confusion and reminders that she was but a speck of dust in the endless expanse of the universe. A universe she now had proper confirmation of that it was ruled by a divine being. Not just any god, but God. Capital G.
So naturally if her sense of religion and spirituality had been completely transformed, it had made sense for her to speak to a priest. And one from the Vatican at that.
Yet a small part of her still nagged to follow her heart and her gut. To trust and understand that Lucifer was still, well, Lucifer.
But she still felt betrayed. Betrayed that he hadn’t been more transparent, that he’d actually put paid to what she’d assumed was nonsense spewing from his mouth earlier. So she could have run away and never attached, or found some way to process it long before she formed a meaningful connection with him. Because that was what was making this so difficult. Her feelings for Lucifer were clouding her judgement and creating a whirlwind of confusion. If he was some stranger, some criminal, some suspect, this would have been easy.
The trembling of her hand as she’d tipped the vial into his glass only manifested the doubt inside of her. It was a miracle it even made it in there at all. That was the other thing. She actually had no idea what she’d just poured into Lucifer’s glass. Kinley had seemed to insist it had the power to take him down. Maybe it did? Maybe this was some biblical concoction containing some potent herb that was capable of killing the Devil or banishing him to Hell forever. She admitted that through all her research, never had such a thing come up. Or at least, not a logical answer to the question, ‘What has the power to kill even the Devil, himself?’ After all, didn’t God have some kind of jurisdiction here? Or did the free will thing mean it didn’t matter to him? Chloe didn’t like not knowing exactly what she was doing. But a part of her seemed to be convinced that she knew why.
Because Lucifer was the Devil.
And the Devil belonged in Hell.
He smiled at her, the way he always did, his brown eyes gazing endearingly. But then those eyes widened. A gasp escaped his throat as he coughed. Then a little more violently. Placing a hand over his mouth, she saw the maroon liquid drip through his fingers. If one didn’t know any better, it almost looked like he’d simply choked a bit on his wine. But as his hand came away, the viscosity and subtle smell made it abundantly clear to Chloe that this was no simple fumble. A thick droplet dribbled down his chin and the shortening of Lucifer’s breath indicated he knew it too. As though being near the glass would hurt him more, he stood abruptly and backed away, teetering on his feet. The cough was more violent now, more desperate. Blood sprayed in tiny patters from his mouth, his skin becoming paler, almost blue.
“Detective…” He mumbled, the blood neatly streaming down his chin, eyes blinking rapidly before shutting gently. His tall frame made a large thud as he collapsed. Chloe let out a small whimper as she watched the back of his head knock what looked like the rather hard corner of the sofa, knowing that it would have hurt him because she was there. The sound of her panting filled the room, only accompanied by the sound of some nineties ballad playing softly in the background.
Tentatively, she kneeled, placing her quivering fingertips to the side of his neck. His skin was already tepid. Chloe let out a breath as she found there to be no pulse, no throb, no sign that Lucifer was alive. A shiver of guilt and realisation washed over her. Pushing the sensation down, she squatted, dialling Father Kinley’s number.
“Is it done?” His ominous voice sounded.
“Y-yes.” Chloe cleared her throat. “Yes. He’s dead.”
He hummed in approval, before hanging up. Within a few minutes, at least Chloe thought it had only been that long, she’d been stuck in a dissociative trance staring at his motionless body, the elevator dinged to indicate someone’s arrival. She placed a hand to her chest, slightly startled as Kinley and another clergy member walked through. There was a smirk on his face as he and his associate walked to where Lucifer lay. The younger man knelt, immediately mumbling some form of prayer or chant. Chloe watched him sign his cross and reach into his pockets for something. She assumed it was holy oil or a pocket bible or something of that nature.
“You have done well, my child.” Kinley’s piercing eyes stared into hers. He was standing awfully close. Chloe felt like he was gazing straight into her conscience. “I know what you felt for him. But you must trust by the grace of God that this was necessary.” She looked down at the floor again, still fixated by his body. His hand grabbed her shoulder and she gasped. “Necessary for the good of humanity, Chloe Decker.”
Pivoting to face him, she nodded. “S-so what now? He’s in Hell, b-but, he’s still here. What do we do with the body?”
Kinley chuckled. “I almost forgot you were a police officer for a minute. Do not worry, we will take care of everything. For now, there is one final thing I need you to do, my child.”
Her brow furrowed. Hadn’t she done enough, already? She’d committed murder. It didn’t matter that she knew that technically Lucifer was still alive, just in another realm. As far as Chloe knew, she had been the one to take his life. She was wholly responsible. But before she could protest, she felt a sharp jab on the side of her neck. A choked sound left her, as she desperately tried to grab Kinley, simultaneously fighting the perpetrator behind her. Her vision was already fading, brain becoming hazy, sounds becoming garbled.
“You are the Devil’s one true weakness, Chloe Decker. So long as you are with him, he is nothing. You are doing God’s work, my child.”
The last thing Chloe saw as she tumbled to the floor was Kinley’s face, stern and haunting, his words hanging over her like the shadows overtaking her vision.
He coughed at the tickle of ash entering his airways. The sky around him was a deep cerulean, the wind harsh and cold, the lighting dim. Lucifer blinked as he came to, slightly confused. He planted his hands on the cold stone either side of him, groaning as he sat up. His head was throbbing, but he struggled against it to bring himself to full consciousness.
“Bloody…here?”
Tentatively, he stood, pivoting to examine his surroundings. It hadn’t seemed to change since the last time he was there. The distant screams and howls accompanied by demonic laughs became apparent to him. Lucifer allowed himself to be taken to the gates. Along the way he attempted to come to some logical conclusion as to why he was even there. The last thing he remembered was being in his penthouse. Dinner. Wine. Music. The Detective. The Detective? He couldn’t recall much except that she’d appeared worried. But no matter. All he had to do was get to the gate, walk through, and alas, he would be back on Earth. Back in Los Angeles. Back on the penthouse balcony. Back to his date.
But the gates wouldn’t budge. They were immovable, practically. His brow furrowed. Lucifer grunted as he tried to push them open once again. And again. And again. He tried to fly upwards. Again. And again. But he couldn’t leave the realm that way either.
“Will someone tell me what’-“ He shouted, before one particular scream piqued his attention. It was female, the voice of an adult. It seemed to dominate all the others with its desperation and pleads. It was familiar. It was familiar. His eyes widened. “Chloe!” He shouted, running as fast as he could in the opposite direction, towards the noise, towards the pain, desperate to make it stop. Hell guided him there. Hell moved him where its master needed to be. Barging through the doors of the chamber, he staggered as he stopped.
It was his penthouse. It was late evening. The table was set for dinner, including a bottle of red wine. Nineties R&B played gently through the surround-sound speakers. It was exactly how he remembered leaving it. Except Chloe wasn’t smiling. No, she was crying out manically, standing over an unconscious body. His unconscious body. Lucifer was confused again.
“Detective?”
She whipped her head around, eyes bloodshot and wet with tears. Her face screwed up in fear. Chloe opened her mouth but no words came out. Frantically, she turned back and forth between the Lucifer standing before her, concerned, but very much alive, and the Lucifer on the floor beside her, confused and very much dead.
“I-it keeps going. I-I don’t know how to stop it. W-what’s happening?”
He could see her hand trembling. And suddenly his own chest fell heavy. This was her Hell loop. Which meant she was dead. Chloe was dead. But how? He was with her just moments ago. And although time flowed much slower down here, even Lucifer knew it hadn’t been long. But if he wanted answers, Lucifer knew there was one thing he could do.
“ALL OF YOU. GO.” Lucifer roared, before helping Chloe to her feet.
Chloe’s head craned around as the brick walls of his apartment faded. The figure on the floor shifted into something grotesque and dare she say, demonic, and suddenly it was just her and Lucifer standing in the expanses of Hell. Cold, dark, miserable.
“W-where am I, Lucifer?”
He sighed. “Darling…you’re in Hell.”
“I’m sorry.” She whispered brokenly.
“Sorry? What are you…” Then it hit him like a blow to the head. “You…the loop…you did something, didn’t you? Something to me?”
A hand came to Chloe’s mouth as she let out a sob. “I’m sorry…” She repeated. “I-I thought it was the right thing.”
“Right thing?”
“I-I shouldn’t have listened to him. D-deep down I knew it was wrong, and…and…oh God, what have I done?” She wouldn’t meet his eye.
“Detective, what did you do, and who told you to do it?” He asked, firmly now.
“Y-you have to understand, Lucifer. When I first saw you…saw who you really were…it…it…”
“Say it.” The note of anger in his voice grew.
“It terrified me! Okay? Lucifer? It fucking terrified me more than anything I have ever dealt with in my entire life!” She yelled hoarsely. “A-and I didn’t want it to. I wanted to just accept that this didn’t make you any different to the man I’d been working with these past few years but…then I’d close my eyes and see it again.”
He pursed his lips, watching as Chloe wiped her eyes, still crying.
“S-so I did the only thing that felt logical. W-when I was in Europe, I…I went to Vatican City. I went to a priest. I asked him for guidance.”
“Guidance?” He scoffed. “Detective, you could have asked me! Anything you wanted to know, I would have told you. For someone who prides herself on being very logical, I can’t believe you went behind my back like that! Did you seriously think a priest would know more about me than me?”
“What choice did I have?” She defended. “To find out that it’s all real. To find out that Heaven and Hell and God and angels and you are all real is too much for one person to bear. So I went to a priest, who referred me to another one in Los Angeles, Father Kinley. He told me the stories throughout history. Showed me evidence of you being connected to bad people. Told me that you lied and manipulated people to convince them to like you.”
He huffed, the last statement wounding him more than anything else she’d said.
“A-and I started explaining, well, our story. I started explaining how we met and how you acted. So then he told me what I had to do. That I had to send you back to Hell. He told me I was doing God’s work. You have to believe me, Lucifer, I thought this was for a good reason. A-and I had no idea that meant me going with you.” She begged, before taking a big inhale. “I-I don’t know what he gave you, he just told me to get you to drink it, and then you would be back in Hell where you belonged.”
Lucifer rolled his eyes, before raising his voice. “It doesn’t matter if it was cyanide or a bloody paracetamol overdose, anything would have killed me provided you were close enough! He probably figured out that you made me vulnerable and went from there!”
“I-I’m so sorry.”
“I know…” He let out a long breath, before softening his tone. He realised more and more that in a convoluted way, what she had done was out of love. Her love for humanity. Her desire to protect humanity. She had been manipulated, fooled, into fulfilling that desire in the wrong way. Of course deep down, he was angry too. He felt betrayed. He felt disgraced. But looking at her fear, at her overwhelming guilt and emotion, Lucifer decided that right now, his anger needed to be pushed aside. “I know...the fact that your guilt was overwhelming enough to form a loop and keep you here means you would never have been here otherwise. It means you are sorry, it means I believe you. I-I’m hurt by your actions, but I’m even more hurt by the fact that you’ve done something that affects you too.”
“I’m sorry.” Was all she could keep saying.
“Never mind being sorry for me being here, my concern is you! How are you going to get out of here?” He ran a fretful and through his hair. “I can’t even get the bloody gates open for me, how am I supposed to get you out?”
Her face was concentrated in thought. “I-it’s because of me.”
“What?” He squinted.
“I-if I make you vulnerable, if I make you as weak as any human…then you won’t be able to get out, the same way nobody else can down here. I’m the thing that’s keeping you here, Lucifer.”
He paled, nodding slowly, realising that she was quite right. At that moment he was almost proud of her. Proud that her skills of deduction and reasoning extended even during immense celestial-grade stress.
But the incredulous worry that neither he nor she would be able to escape Hell seemed to occupy his mind much more prominently.
“It’s about time you bloody got here!” Lucifer shouted, as Amenadiel’s wings retracted.
“I could barely hear you. Your prayer was no louder than any human’s normally is.” As he walked towards them, he did a double-take. “Chloe?”
She sniffed. “Yeah…yeah it’s me.”
“No time for chit-chat. The sooner you bring her back to Earth, the sooner I can get out too.”
He made a hesitant face, tilting with his head to speak to Lucifer privately.
“Why is she here, Lucy?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. “She…she tried to kill me.”
“What?”
He groaned. “That’s not the point. The person who told her, no, manipulated her into doing that killed her to keep me here.”
Amenadiel gave him a bewildered look. “You’re not upset at her?”
“Of course I am! This is going to need further discussion, but frankly, all I want right now is for her to be back on Earth, alive.”
“Lucifer, you know I can’t do that. If she’s de-“
“Don’t.” He barked. “Do not tell me those words. And do not give me some lecture about Father’s will. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass right now about His will. What I care about is that she goes home with her family.”
He sighed. “I can only take her to Heaven.”
“No! I refuse to allow you to take her anywhere but back home, it is far too early for her time.”
“I don’t make the rules, Lucy!” Amenadiel shouted, cutting his ramble off. “You know I want this as much as you do!” The whipping breeze filled the angry silence. “The best I can do is request an audience with father. Tell Him that she has more to give to humanity, that she should be alive.”
Lucifer nodded, glumly. “Fine.” He said softly. “Take her and go. I’ll be waiting on Earth.”
Chloe offered Lucifer a weak smile as Amenadiel took her in his arms, and flew upwards, powerfully. By the time Lucifer walked back to the front gates, he found them already open, as if welcoming him back to Earth. Making sure they were shut behind him properly, Lucifer walked out of Hell into the grey expanse that existed between realms. From there, he allowed himself to be moved to Earth, everything fading around him.
When he woke, his eyes stung. His open mouth was filled with brine. He felt resistance as he tried to move, slowly coming to the conclusion that he was underwater. And not just a little beneath the surface but plummeting with the weight of not only his body, but also a large concrete block, towards the bottom of the ocean. The darkness of the abyss became more and more prominent, the faint moonlight fading faster and faster. Hastily, he undid the rigid chain surrounding him Just as he contorted his body, ready to propel himself upwards, his eye’s widened, stinging even more at the sight of the body next to him. Chloe. Still in the burgundy jumper she had worn on their date, Chloe’s blonde hair flayed around her head, an equally potent weight around her torso. Desperately, Lucifer grabbed her from under, the heaviness of her limp body settling in his arms. He removed the weight from her, watching it sink, just as he had done before.
Mustering his strength, he felt great resistance as he opened his wings. The white light emanating from them illuminated her pale, almost peaceful-looking face. Feeling the currents of water swirl around him, Lucifer continued to push upwards, fighting gravity, fighting the currents, and getting himself above water. He was able to hold his breath luckily. It seemed that Chloe hadn’t made her return yet, which was working to their favour. With one final push, he emerged victoriously, briefly noting his surroundings. They were near the pier. The night was darker than it had been before. Lucifer gauged it had been only a few hours. Not many people were around. Kinley must have come here to dump the ‘bodies’.
Finding a spot to land, he gently place Chloe on the ground. Lucifer felt nauseous, a sensation normally only brought on for him by copious amounts of alcohol, feeling the absence of her pulse, and the clamminess of her skin. She really was dead. But Amenadiel was God’s favourite. If anyone could get Him to pull the strings and revive a human life, particularly one he’d made for his son, specifically, it was Amenadiel. Lucifer felt his clothes stick to his skin as they dried. The salty gusts of wind stung his eyes even more. But he didn’t care. All Lucifer could focus on right now was watching her, waiting for some kind of sign that she was going to wake. That she was going to be alive. Going to be okay. Then they could talk. Talk properly and openly about who he was and who he wasn’t. The way they should have back when she had first seen him. But too afraid that he was being overbearing, he let her take what he thought was necessary space.
But that brief month had been enough time to allow lies and fear to plague her mind. Lies and fear. The two things Lucifer hated the most. Lies because they were so commonly associated with him, but ironically, so incredibly untrue. He was direct, he was upfront, he was honest. It was who he prided himself on being. And as for fear? Well, he did certainly enjoy making people scared of him, when necessary. There was nothing quite so satisfying as staring into the eyes of a criminal and making them realise just how puny they are in the space of the universe. It was his favourite part of the job, really. But fear that was masked by lies, fear being used to control and manipulate, now that, Lucifer detested. It was linked to his hatred of lies, he supposed. Perhaps sprinkled in with the loathing of his brother Michael, who embodied such qualities.
So Lucifer sat and waited in the darkness and smelliness and coldness of the port, knowing that things were going to be okay.
They had to be.
Otherwise, if he didn’t hate himself enough already for not fighting harder, for not trying harder to reveal himself earlier, losing Chloe right now was going to kill him.
“Please, Father. Please, just hear me out. You listened to Gabriel discuss the idea of a digital angel message board for thirty minutes, why can’t you just let me bring this human back to Earth? You know who she is, you know it’s not her time.”
He sat with his hands folded. “Bring her in.”
Amenadiel jerked backwards. “What?”
“Son…just let me speak to her.”
His shoulders shrugged. “At your behest…”
Leaving the room, he found Chloe biting her thumb.
“He wants to see you.”
“What?” She hissed. “As in…God? God wants to see me?” Her voice jumped escalated an octave.
Slowly, she entered the small room. It was empty, save for two couches and a glass table. Oddly like Linda’s office. The light was stark, but not harsh. Not sterile like a hospital, but bright and inviting like a mid-summer’s day. She didn’t know what to expect, really. Her whole life, Chloe, like many humans, always thought that picturing God as a specific person, especially with a specific gender or form, was somehow sacrilegious. But now knowing the truth about Lucifer, and celestials, it hit her that God did look human, or at least took the form of one. He was tall, dark, wearing a simple, light garment that contrasted the deepness and richness of his skin. Although she knew he was much older, he seemed to be around middle-aged, grey facial hair neatly trimmed. In all honesty, he looked like a father. Which made sense, Chloe realised. After all, this was Lucifer’s and Amenadiel’s and…however many other siblings he had’s (she still hadn’t quite got around to finding that out) dad.
“I’ve been looking forward to finally meeting you, Chloe Jane Decker.” His deep voice carried so much power, so much conviction. It was logical, she supposed. God being a soprano would certainly be far less convincing.
She gulped, completely lost for words.
He offered an endearing smile. “Please, sit, my child.”
Still visibly trembling, she did as He asked.
“I-I’m sorry.” She blurted.
God raised his hand, reassuringly. “It’s quite alright. I harbour no resentment. You made a mistake. That is the beauty of humanity, that such mistakes happen and lessons can be learnt. That one can always try to improve themselves and strive to be better.”
“But my mistake killed your son?” Chloe let out a nervous laugh. “I lost all my faith in him, because a stranger told me I was doing God’s…” She cleared her throat. “Your work.”
The man nodded. “Ah, it does bewilder me sometimes how far certain people have twisted and interpreted my messages. They’ve added all these complex political layers, and divided themselves into different groups which ultimately believe in the same kind of power, when really it’s much simpler. My judgement of people when they die is not determined by visits to certain buildings or aversions from certain so-called temptations. No, my only judgement comes from the way they treat their fellow people. Guilt and shame are what drag your dear souls to Hell most of the time unfortunately. But there is always a way out.”
She took in what he said, realising the sheer privilege she had by being there to hear it.
“And as for what you did, upon finding out my son really was the Devil. I don’t blame you. You did the natural, logical thing. When I made you, I always conceptualised you as the rational counterpart to him.”
Chloe’s brow furrowed. “Counterpart?”
“Right. You see, Chloe. Your creation was not just a decision made by your parents. They had struggled with fertility, as many couples do, but I could see so much potential in you. Potential in the way you could help to heal my family and the world. So with my assistance, you were created as a gift for Lucifer.”
Her face sunk a little, although she tried not to show it.
“But.” He spoke firmly. “You are also so much more than that. You are John and Penelope’s daughter. You are Beatrice’s mother. You are an officer of the law. You are a friend, a supporter. You are Chloe Jane Decker. So please do not think any less of yourself because of that.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line, slowly taking in what He said.
“L-Look, I know I’ve messed up. And I know I don’t deserve special treatment over anybody else, I know that Heaven is a gift in itself but..” Her voice dwindled, sounding so small, almost child-like. “I don’t want my daughter to grow up without me.”
“I don’t either. Although she is strong and brave, just as you are, I agree that she need not suffer like that, the way you have. You deserve to live your life to the fullest. And that, Chloe, is how you may do ‘my’ work as you called it. The day-to-day kindness and braveness you display that allows you to help those who cannot help themselves. It is the way you always read to your daughter before bed without fail, no matter how tired you are. It is the way you treat your friends, the way you support them through their strife, that is my work. So long as you keep doing that, I see no reason for you to be here just yet.”
Tears rolled neatly down her face. “T-thank you.”
“Amenadiel can take you back to Earth now.” She walked towards the door, before turning to face God as He called her name one last time. “And there’s no need to thank me, it’s your God-given right to live life to its completion.” His warm smile would forever remain imprinted in Chloe’s mind as she walked back to Amenadiel.
With one fluid motion, the light disappeared, and Chloe felt herself fall, strong arms beneath her every step of the way.
She gasped when she woke, a dry tickle entering her throat. Her sinuses were clogged, her ears were blocked, she desperately needed some eye drops. But she wasn’t cold. She was damp, but not soaking. She felt herself being supported, just as she had been before. However, unlike Amenadiel’s arms, which had been sturdy, strong, these ones, albeit not weak, were trembling a little. Perhaps from adrenaline, exhaustion, or both.
As her vision cleared, she could see various layers of white around her. They were soft, uniformly distributed. Feathers. They were feathers. And together they combined to form large, beautiful, angelic wings.
And right at the centre of it all was Lucifer’s face. Because, as Chloe recalled at this moment, Lucifer was an angel. A small, relieved grin had crept across his face. His hair had dried in curls, sticking to his face. His brown eyes were moist, as though he’d been crying.
“You’re okay…” He exhaled, speaking softly.
“S-so are you…” She croaked. “T-that was too close, I’m so sorry. God, how could I have been so st-“
He shook his head, fervidly. “None of that. We’re both…we’re both alive. Let’s just try and process that, for now, shall we? We’ll talk later, we’ll make sure to work through all of this, but for now? I’m just relieved you’re okay, Detective.”
Her eyes were still wide with awe and admiration. He snickered a little at how distracted she was by them.
“Y-your wings. Th-they’re beautiful.”
He smirked at her. Carefully, he got Chloe to her feet, and allowed her to seem them in full span. The grin was bigger now, almost proud of him. He shook some of the excess water off.
“Now…I don’t know about you, Detective. But before we go out priest-hunting, I think we could both do with a warm shower. Shall we?” He extended his arm out.
And as Chloe smiled at him once more, Lucifer truly felt things were going to be okay.