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As Chloe catches her breath and her limbs start to regain feeling, her eyes drift around Lucifer’s bedroom and not for the first time, they linger on the painting hanging over his safe. Also not for the first time, she shudders a little looking at it. It’s...unique. A mermaid with a clown face and starfish pasties holding a seahorse. And colorful, much more so than most of the decor in the penthouse, but she never understood why he has that particular painting on his wall. Lucifer is a snob when it comes to most things, and especially when it comes to style, and...well, Trixie could do way better than that thing...
Her attention is momentarily diverted when Lucifer tugs her into his arms, wrapping both around her, and sighs contentedly against her hair. Chloe presses her ear to his chest and listens to his strong, steady (if a bit rapid) heartbeat. She loves these moments right after sex as much as the sex itself, when he holds her like he never wants to let her go. When he presses little kisses to the top of her head and lets his fingers wander up and down her arm or comb through her hair. When no words need to be spoken between them, because everything that needed to be said was just spoken with their bodies. For once, Lucifer doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter; it’s like he’s at peace because he’s with her.
Normally, Chloe would tuck her head beneath his chin and close her eyes, enjoying the afterglow with him. Or maybe trail her fingers across his chest to see what new constellations she can make with his freckles. Tonight, though, her attention is yet again diverted by that painting.
If she’s being honest, it’s a bit creepy. Chloe doesn’t have a fear of clowns, per se, but they’ve never been her favorite form of entertainment. And she swears that no matter how she moves, the mermaid-clown’s eyes follow her. She kind of wishes when she’d knocked it off the wall on her birthday that time while stumbling around drunk, she’d broken it and he would have been forced to replace it with something more...his style. Which is a little mean, maybe.
“Can I ask you something?” she says softly, turning her head to Lucifer.
A slow smile grows on his face as he looks at her, his eyes shining with delight and love. “Of course, darling. But the answer is, and always will be, yes, I will go down on you again.” He moves so quickly that she can only blink in surprise at being on her back, now staring up at him as he leans over her. “And again. And again. After all, what else have we to do?” His voice is a low, seductive purr as he leans in and kisses along her neck.
For a moment, Chloe is distracted, biting her lip against a moan or a gasp or maybe a whimper. Lucifer knows all of her most sensitive spots by now and he takes advantage of them at every opportunity. While she would love nothing more than to let him carry on, her eyes, again, drift back to that painting.
“Yeah, that’s, um—oh, that’s nice—Lucifer, that isn’t what I meant,” she says a bit breathlessly when he sucks on her pulse point.
He lifts his head, looking adorably disheveled with his messy curls (that she happily messed up for him) and his bemused expression. “No?” The adorable puppy dog look melts into something more...well, devilish. “Not my mouth, then? Mutual pleasure is what you’re after, is it? Mmm, well, I am always ready and raring to go, Detective...” He presses himself against her side and...yep, he’s definitely ready to go again.
Chloe laughs, which doesn’t seem to be the reaction he expected. “No, not that, either. At least, not yet. You might have celestial stamina, but I don’t, remember?” Lucifer pouts and she traces his lips with her fingers, making him smile. “No, I have an actual question.”
“Oh. Well, why didn’t you say so, darling? Ask away,” he murmurs, his fingers drawing abstract shapes on her belly. “I’m always happy to answer your questions.”
“That painting.” She nods towards it, wondering why Lucifer stiffens for just the briefest moment. “I mean, it just doesn’t seem like your style. I always wondered why you even have it.”
“Ah,” he says softly, glancing towards the painting himself. When he turns back to Chloe, he isn’t quite meeting her gaze and she thinks he looks a bit caught out, which makes her all the more curious. “Well, it most definitely is not my style. Quite frankly, I’d love nothing more than to see it put through a shredder and then set on fire. But...well, I acquired it as part of a deal. One of the most important deals I’ve ever made, as a matter of fact.”
Chloe frowns a little, watching his eyes glaze over, like he’s falling into a memory. “What was the deal?”
Lucifer blinks, eyes darting sidelong to her. “Well, you see, the ‘artist’, and I use that term very loosely, desired for his ‘artwork’ to be treated as fine art rather than tossed in the bin with the rest of the trash. He wanted somebody to cherish his work for once in his miserable life.”
“You couldn’t have put it up in one of your other properties?”
“I considered it, but as I said, this deal...it was vitally important. I keep it here because...well, to remind me, I suppose, of how close I came to losing—” He stops abruptly, shaking his head a little. “Anyway, as horrendous as it is, I don’t break deals.”
She studies him for long moments. By now, she knows how to read him better. She can see past his defenses to what he’s hiding, and right now, she can see that whatever memory he’s recalling is a painful one. As much as she doesn’t want to push him to relive it, her curiosity is piqued. “What was the deal?” she asks softly, combing her fingers through his hair.
He hums at the sensation and glances at her, then at the painting, hesitating. “Well, I don’t know if you’ll recall a chap named Dave Maddox?”
The name rings a faint bell in her mind, but she can’t seem to connect it to anything. “Sounds familiar.”
Lucifer takes a slightly unsteady breath. “He was working with the poisonous Professor Carlisle,” he says reluctantly.
That name rings a bell. Chloe is thrown almost three years to that case. There was so much going on then, not only with chasing down leads before more innocent people were hurt or killed, but also between Chloe and Lucifer. It was right after their first kiss and things were...awkward between them as they both tried to figure out what the other wanted. And how to act with each other. She also remembers chasing down Carlisle and cornering him—and how he slit his own throat. Then how she raced back to the lab, her worry for Lucifer skyrocketing as she feared he'd succumbed to poisonous gas. The hug they shared and his soft this is real, isn’t it?
And then, later that night, her nosebleed started. Her confusion, then fear for herself when it wouldn’t stop bleeding. She was getting more and more worked up, and there was only one person she wanted to call, then all of a sudden, Lucifer was bursting into her room. Chloe was relieved for about half a second before he started shouting at her about something—until she told him something was wrong. She didn’t miss the horror in his eyes, the worry for her.
Chloe was so sure she was going to die that day. Yet, somehow, Lucifer saved her.
Swallowing hard at the memories, she nods. “Yeah, I remember now,” she says softly.
Lucifer’s dark eyes are glittering with emotion as they meet hers. “Dave Maddox had the ingredients list for the antidote and I made a deal to get it from him in the hopes that he also had the formula.”
“But it only lived in Carlisle’s mind,” she murmurs, remembering what Dan told her. Which prompts a dozen more questions. Lucifer is watching her, half-expectant, half-resigned like he knows what she’s going to ask next and he’s dreading it. “Lucifer. How did you get that formula? Carlisle was dead and he never wrote it down anywhere.”
Sighing heavily, Lucifer rolls onto his back, bringing Chloe with him again as if he needs to be holding her to get through whatever explanation he is about to give her. “Does it matter?” he asks weakly. “I did get the formula and you recovered. That is what’s important, yes?”
Chloe nods her agreement, but they’re way past the days where he deflects and she lets it go. “Yes, of course it is, but I’ve been trying to figure it out for years. Dan and I just assumed you got it through shady mob connections or beat someone up for it.”
“If only it were that simple,” he mutters bitterly. His eyes meet hers briefly. “You aren’t going to like it.”
Nerves and dread start to build. “Will you tell me, anyway?”
Again, he sighs, this time like he expected her not to drop it so easily. “If you like,” he answers resignedly. With his eyes locked on the mermaid-clown painting, he finally begins to reveal one of the biggest mysteries Chloe could never solve.
“What you must understand, Detective, is that there was nothing I wouldn’t have done to save you. Nothing. But as I stood outside your hospital room, watching you with your daughter, I felt...helpless. And hopeless. We had the ingredients but no formula, and the wrong mixture would have been fatal. I was out of ideas, terrified that I was about to lose you. I couldn’t even walk into your room because I would have had to tell you the truth and I just...I couldn’t. I couldn’t face you. I couldn't tell you that I failed. I didn’t want to say goodbye.”
The pain and despair in his voice makes her heart squeeze painfully. “Hey,” she whispers, cupping his face. Turning him towards her, she sees the tears in his eyes. “Hey, I’m okay, Lucifer. I’m right here, all right?”
Nodding, he sucks in a stuttering breath. “Well, my mum showed up out of the blue and I suppose she was attempting to comfort me by reminding me that the man who did this to you was being punished in Hell. And that is when I realized, She was right—Carlisle was in Hell and I am the Devil. So...I popped down for a chat.”
Chloe blinks a few times. “You...popped down to Hell. For a chat?” she repeats. “Why do I get the feeling it wasn’t that easy?”
His eyes close briefly, like he really doesn’t want to elaborate.
Another memory pops into her mind. Opening her eyes and turning to find her partner sitting beside her hospital bed. The relief on his face coupled with sadness she couldn’t account for. And then there was what he said to her.
“Well, look who’s back. You didn’t die, after all. That makes one of us.”
At the time, she dismissed it, just grateful to be feeling better and to have Lucifer right there beside her, knowing he came through for her—the way he always does. Now, though...
Cold dread settles in her stomach. “Lucifer.” Pushing up on her elbow, ignoring the way the sheet slides down her body, Chloe stares at him in mounting horror. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what, Detective?”
“Tell me you didn’t... How did you get to Hell?” she breathes, her heart pounding in her ears.
Lucifer looks at her with reluctance. “Well, as I didn’t have wings at the time, and neither did Amenadiel, there was only one other way to make the journey: as a soul.”
All the breath rushes from her lungs in one hard exhale. “You died,” she whispers, her jaw falling open.
Tapping her mouth closed with two gentle fingers, Lucifer nods. “I did,” he sighs. “But if it’s any consolation, it was only for a couple of minutes. On Earth, anyway. Nevertheless, I spoke with the nutty professor in his Hell Loop and he was more than willing to give me the formula I needed.”
“How?”
“How did he give it to me?” Lucifer asks, bemused.
Chloe shakes her head. “No. How did you die?”
“Ah.” Lucifer makes a face. “Well, that was...a bit more complicated and I required some assistance from Amenadiel, Mazikeen, and Dr. Linda. Special mention for Mum, as she decided to help, after all. Daniel and Miss Lopez, of course, retrieved all the ingredients in a timely manner.”
“Lucifer.”
He hums innocently, raising his eyebrows. They both know he’s avoiding the question.
“How, precisely, did you get to Hell?”
Sighing resignedly, he turns onto his side to face her. “Amenadiel stood guard over you to ensure you remained where you were. That was vital to the plan. Meanwhile, the doctor, Maze, and I located the room just below yours. I needed to be vulnerable and remain that way for the extent of the plan, otherwise...well, neither of us would be here now. The plan was for Mazikeen to stop my heart using those defibrillator thingies and Dr. Linda, with her medical expertise, would restart it after a minute. That would give me more than enough time in Hell to complete my task. But when the time came, Maze chickened out and she and Dr. Linda began arguing about which of them would kill me. We didn’t have time to waste, I grew impatient, and did it myself.”
Chloe stares at him for long moments trying to process...any of what he said. But the only thing that sticks in her mind is that last sentence. “You killed yourself?” she asks incredulously.
“Well, they weren’t going to do it, were they? And look,” he holds his arms out, gesturing at himself, “I’m completely fine. Everything worked out.”
“Uh-huh,” she says skeptically. “Tell me the rest.”
Lucifer eyes her nervously, his fingers moving to his wrists like he’s going to twist cufflinks he isn’t wearing. “Not much to tell, really,” he says dismissively. “I died, went to Hell, found the professor’s Loop, and left.” Chloe crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at him. He shifts uncomfortably. “Yes, all right, the plan didn’t go exactly according to...well, plan. After I left the professor to his eternal guilt and torment, I waited around for the doctor to resurrect me, but time moves differently down there, as you know. As I waited, I heard music.”
Chloe’s eyebrows furrow. “Music?” she echoes slowly.
“Piano music, to be specific. If you can call it that. All the music in Hell is in Loops. And it isn’t the same as here on Earth—like everything there, it’s twisted and wrong. I’ve never heard music outside of a Loop and since I had a bit of time, I went to investigate.” This is where he really hesitates. Pain and grief shine in his eyes, and Chloe doesn’t think it’s about what was happening to her at the time on Earth.
“Lucifer?” she says softly.
Shaking his head, he sighs. “As you know, Hell operates on guilt, Detective. It...sucks you in. All guilty souls are pulled into a Loop; I was no exception.”
Her heart sinks. “You had a Hell Loop?”
“Yes,” he exhales slowly. “At the time, my biggest source of guilt was...well, Uriel.”
Oh.
Lucifer told her about his brother one night after he woke from a nightmare about him. About how Uriel was targeting Chloe and Goddess, and about how Lucifer stopped him. The torment and grief in his voice as he spoke broke her heart and she held him for close to an hour, telling him he did everything he could have done with the situation. That she doesn’t think any less of him. That he isn’t a monster. That she loves him. And of course, she thanked him for saving her life—again.
“Oh,” she whispers.
“Indeed,” he says softly. “I was trapped and stabbed my brother a million times until Mum showed up. She reminded me why I was in Hell in the first place, that I had to save you. Which was also the reason I killed Uriel in the first place. But as I snapped out of my guilt, Mum got stuck in hers. I literally had to carry her out.” Lucifer clears his throat. “And then Dr. Linda brought us both back and I rushed up to your room.”
Letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, Chloe blinks, trying to push back the tears fighting to fall down her cheeks. All along, she’d known Lucifer probably did something crazy and dangerous to get that formula, but the reality is...so much worse than she ever imagined. Not only did he commit suicide and go to Hell, he was trapped in a Hell Loop. If not for his mother, the Goddess of All Creation, going down there after him, he would probably still be there. After her own trip to Hell with Lucifer, to Jimmy Barnes’s Hell Loop, she knows how unlikely it is for anybody to escape that eternal torture. Her heart clenches as she thinks of Dan down there now, but pushes it away, trying to focus on what’s in front of her to avoid falling apart.
“What were you thinking?” she asks, her voice shaking. Though whether it’s with anger or grief, she isn’t sure. Lucifer frowns at her. “Lucifer, you killed yourself and got trapped in Hell! What would have happened if your mom hadn’t gone down there after you? Why would you risk that?”
Part of her expects him to get angry, to argue that he had it all under control. Instead, he watches her with an almost despondent expression on his face. “You ask me why?” he says quietly, sitting up slowly and turning to her. “As we have established, Detective, on far more than one occasion, there is nothing that I would not risk for your safety or your happiness. All I saw was the woman I loved suffering a slow, painful death and I would have done anything to make it right. I saw the people around her suffering just as much and Trixie most of all. I would have remained in that Hell Loop for a dozen eternities if it meant you lived.”
“Lucifer...” she says softly, the tears she blinked back now falling free. As much as she wants to be angry with him for doing something so insanely reckless, she feels that anger drain away with his words.
With a small smile, he reaches over and gently wipes the tears away with his thumb, then cups her face. “I loved you then, Chloe,” he murmurs softly. “I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you and there’s nothing I won’t do for you—then, now, and for the rest of forever.”
Unwilling to maintain the small distance between them even a second longer, Chloe scoots closer, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you, too. Then and now.”
He gives her the smile reserved solely for her. “I know,” he says simply. “And in proving there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you,” his eyes drift towards the painting on the wall, “I keep that horrendous monstrosity on my wall as a reminder. Every time I’m unfortunate enough to lay eyes on it, I remember not what I risked but that smile you gave me when you woke up. How relieved I was.”
She lets out a watery laugh, making his soft smile wider. “Thank you,” she whispers, kissing him. “For saving me.”
“I’ll always save you. Though if the painting does bother you, I suppose I could move it to a closet.”
Chloe considers it for a moment, then shakes her head. “Now that I know the history behind it, I guess it can stay.” Lucifer looks vaguely disappointed, but doesn’t argue. “It’s still creepy as hell, though.”
“On that, we are in violent agreement, darling.” That slow, seductive smile from before returns as he presses her back into the bed again. This time, she doesn’t protest, letting her hands run up his sides and enjoying the way he shivers. “Allow me to take your mind off it.”
She raises a mock-disinterested eyebrow. “And how do you think you’re going to do that?”
The look in his eyes sends heat surging through her body. “Oh, I have several ideas. Allow me to show you each and every one of them...”
As Lucifer starts kissing down her body, Chloe’s eyes drift towards the mermaid-clown painting one last time. The meaning of it has changed drastically and every time she looks at it, she’ll think of every risk and sacrifice Lucifer has ever made for her. And she’ll fall in love with him a little more.