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It was the third time that week in which Lucifer woke up beyond horrified and distressed from a nightmare.
During the second time, Chloe had managed to get him to accept comfort. She’d almost convinced him that this wasn’t something that he had to deal with alone. They were together and they were in love; she’d be more than glad to help him.
“There’s no weakness in it, babe.” She’d whispered, their gazes locked as she tried to make him understand, “You’re not… I don’t know. You’re not a burden. You’re not weak. You’re not patheic. It’s okay to not be okay all the time, you know?”
Obviously, he didn’t know.
At the moment, he was trembling in her arms. His face was hidden in the crook of her neck, a burning wetness that tickled down her throat being the only real indicator of his distress. Lucifer was never one for heaving sobs and loud wails of anguish. His actions would be loud when he was in emotional pain. For example, he would forgo sleep for a week in a half, put a hit on himself, ask a shooter to end him, and drown in an endless cycle of every single unhealthy coping mechanism to ever exist.
His tears were always silent though.
It bothered her.
She was constantly worried about him. Ever since he came back from Hell, Lucifer had been making tremendous progress in terms of opening up to her and settling into their roles as official lovers at last. It was almost surreal. He still panicked every date night and he was more than likely to think that she was going to break up with him at any given moment for almost no reason at all, but he was… improving.
“Was it Hell?” She whispered in the darkness, never ceasing her rythmic stroking of his back.
“Huh?”
“The nightmare.”
Lucifer froze for a moment before nodding into her neck. He seemed almost ashamed. Gone were the witty remarks and the attempts at distracting her and diverting her attention from his pain (and, damn, was he good at that…).
What aspects of Hell did he dream about?
He was the King.
Did he dream about fire? Demons? Guilty souls?
Perhaps the tortures he witnessed for centuries came back to haunt his restless sleep?
“It’s cold.” He mumbled.
Chloe blinked, unsure what he was talking about. Since they were in the Penthouse rather than her own house, both of them didn’t really have any clothes on. Lucifer had still cocooned himself up in the covers before wrapping himself around her and falling asleep. He always got cold at night, much to her amusement. Was he a bit chilly because he’d tossed the covers to the far side of the huge bed when he’d woken up screaming?
She grabbed the silky duvet with one arm, wrestling with it for a moment before she managed to yank it towards them. Reverently, she tucked it around them both, ensuring that Lucifer was as covered as possible. She hugged him tighter, wondering if her human body heat could possibly be of any assistance. Who knew devils even felt cold?
“H-hell, Detective.” He chortled, “I meant Hell. It’s a bit chilly here as well though, so thank you, my love.”
He kissed the base of her throat in gratitude, wrapping his arms around her and melting into her touches. She could see the faint smile adorning his lips, his handsome face lit up by the soft glow of the moonlight.
He still looked awful though.
“I always thought that Hell would be hot.” Chloe marvelled, trying her hardest to be calm and not make a big deal out of this. Lucifer never talked about Hell. “You know with… fiery pits of damnation and huge columns of flames.”
“And I fly around giggling w-waving my pitchfork with my tail dangling in the steamy air and my enormous horns gleaming in the glow of the flames?” He mused earnestly, craning his neck back to gauge her reaction.
She burst into laughter, whacking him playfully on the shoulder. Lucifer, pleased with himself for making her laugh as usual, grinned before settling back into her embrace.
She needed to do the same for him.
“It’s really cold and silent.” He told her, understanding her silence as an invitation to speak at last, “There’s ash everywhere and the only noise is demons fighting or s-souls of the guilty being tortured.”
“Oh, Lucifer.” She tightened her arms around him, kissing his temple.
Talk, Lucifer. Come on. Please. Anything you want. I’d spend the rest of eternity just listening if it meant that I could share some of your pain to lessen it and make it all a bit more bearable for you…
“The worst part… it’s really silly, Detective.”
“Is it what your nightamres are about?” She asked tentavely, horrified at the prospect that he might pull away and stop sharing this with her at any moment.
“Sometimes.” He admitted.
“Then, it can’t be silly.” She decided, “Come on. Tell me.”
“I… Detective, my love, you’ll laugh.”
“I would never.” She promised, her heart aching for him, “I swear, Lucifer, never. Do you trust me?”
“You are the only person I trust with everything, Detective.” He sighed.
It took him a while to answer. She thought that he’d managed to fall back asleep when he finally talked.
“Loneliness.” He choked out, his voice hardly audible despite how close his mouth was to her ear, “Hell is so bloody lonely to me, Detective. I know I’m not supposed to feel that way, but demons… they’re horrible company. I suppose we are too different for comradeship. Besides, I was their King and not their… friend. There’s no one to hold in Hell and no one to talk to. Mazikeen was as close as I got to… good interactions. The last time I went back was the worst. I just… why is it so lonely down there, darling? Why does that haunt me in my sleep?”
She didn’t know what to say. What could a person even say? Good thing he couldn’t see her tears lest he be discouraged from talking more about this. There were a few things, if any, in creation that her boyfriend hated more than the sight of her tears. He was incredibly vocal about it too.
“Sometimes, I dream of the never-ending hallways and the infinite doors. I see myself stuck on that damn throne alone for centuries bereft of… of everything LA has taught me again after Hell managed to erase my memories of Heaven the first time around. How pathetic is that Detective?”
“It’s not pathetic.” Chloe finally managed to get out, “It’s not… I’m so sorry, babe.”
She kissed his forehead and buried her face in his soft, curly hair. Was there anything she could do to help?
“You know, there are all these arguments about whether or not solitary confinement is a breach of human rights or not.” She found herself explaining, “Being alone, Lucifer… It isn’t easy. The fact that you’re still you after thousands of years on and off in that place… I can’t even process it. I can’t even understand how much strength something like that needs. I love you so much.”
“And I you, Detective.” He declared, “Only you would call my weakness strength.”
“Being afraid of being alone again is not weakness!” She insisted.
“Whatever you say, darling.”
Silence settled between them again. Her thoughts were an odd blend of what felt real and what didn’t. She thought of the devil who was quietly shivering in her arms, trying to comprehend the extent of his suffering and issues.
She didn’t even know where to start.
*cries in Deckerstar*
Lucifer wanted to go grab a stiff drink.
He had no idea whether or not the Detective had fell asleep though. Even worse, he couldn’t get any of his muscles to move. How could he when the Detective’s embrace was one of his favourite places in all of existence?
Every day spent with her and every interaction they shared just seemed to cement the fact that she was a literal miracle. She loved him despite knowing who and what he was. She was never upset with him for waking her up in the middle of the night with his pitiful whining and screaming. She… she cared for him. She tried to help him understand all the little things that seemed to escape him.
The Detective loved him.
“Lucifer?” She whispered, her hand in his hair, “Are you still awake, babe?”
Lucifer hummed something in response, his tongue too heavy to care for words much.
“C-can I try something?”
He knew that tone.
The Detective was nervous.
It blew his mind that someone as amazing and as bloody perfect as her could ever have insecurities, but she did. She had a lot of them, much to his never-ending bafflement.
“Anything you want, darling.” He promised, his voice managing to sultry despite how rough it was from sleep and all the… lacrimal leaking he’d done recently.
“It’s, uh, it’s kind of silly.” She rambled, her hands stopping their soothing motions on his body, “It’s… my dad, he used to do this thing for me whenever I… whenever had a nightmare like this and it helped. But it’s really silly and… I have no idea why I’m even telling you this-”
“I’d love to try it.” Lucifer grinned, earnest.
He pulled away from the safe haven that was the Detective’s arms, looking at the love of his life as she chewed on her lip and toyed with her fingers.
Oh, his poor Detective.
“Lucifer...”
“Detective...” He leaned forward to kiss her softly, smoothing her hair down with a single brush of his fingers, “It’d be my honour to try something like that with you, darling. If it doesn’t work, then I’m sure we can find a lot of other activities to occupy our time.”
“Isn't our goal to get you relaxed?” She giggled, shaking her head at him and his shenanigans.
“Eventually...”
It wasn’t even that funny as far as he knew, but she laughed again and hugged him like she was not planning to let go.
Lucifer wouldn’t have minded.
After a lot of kissing and banter, she instructed him to lay down. Somehow, he ended up with his head pillowed on her lap. She insisted on covering him up with his duvet, mourning the loss of the “view” as he put it but worrying about his relentless shivering more.
She was worried about him being cold. No one had ever done that before. It made thousands of emotions that he didn’t quite understand blossom in his chest. Some of them were the same that made his eyes burn while others were the same from when she kissed him, called him “babe”, held his hand or wrapped her arms around him.
“You’re cold.” She scolded, leaning down to kiss his forehead, “We’ll have to find a few ways to warm you up.”
“I can think of a few!” He immediately pipped up, eyes flying open and salacious grin spreading on his lips.
“Lucifer!” She laughed, leaning down to capture his lips this time.
He smiled against her lips, content. When he shivered violently again, and not even in the fun way, the Detective just tucked the covers tighter around him. She grabbed a lighter blanket that had been discarded at some point and wrapped it around him as well.
“Better?” She asked, stroking his cheek.
Lucifer nodded, feeling the tips of his ears heat up in embarrassment.
He couldn’t help it. His body seemed to adore torturing him like this whenever his traitorous mind decided to vividly recall the chilliness of hell. His throat also burned, choked as he was by the smell of sulphur and brimstone. Had he been alone, Lucifer would’ve been feeling the soft ash constantly cascading on his skin. He was more than grateful for the magnificent woman in his bed who always seemed to be ready to aid him with a gentle touch or a soft caress.
“So… we were talking about your dad?” He prompted. Did she seriously think that she was going to get out of this?
He was too curious to just let her do so.
“This is going to sound so stupid.” She groaned, “I don’t even know why I said that in the first place...”
He didn’t say anything, staring at her intently. The Detective sighed.
“Close your eyes.” She ordered. Like it had a million times before, her hand wandered to his hair. She’d said that playing with his hair was really soothing. Lucifer was glad because he could barely think of things that he enjoyed more than these simple, yet alien touches she bestowed upon him every day.
“When I was a little kid, even younger than Trixie, my dad and I went on this camping trip.” The Detective began, hesitant, her voice instantly getting softer at the mention of her late father, “I’d never been camping before that and I’d nagged at him for ages, wanting to go. Mom had to shoot one of her new movies that summer and she wasn’t around much. I was a bit sad, not that used to her constant absences yet. He suggested we go and it was… It was so fun, Lucifer. I loved it. Our last night there, I couldn’t sleep because I was so miserable about the fact that we had to leave the next morning. I snuck out of the tent after dad went to sleep and wandered around the woods, way far. I was just planning to go for a walk or something, but I ended up getting so lost that I couldn’t even vaguely tell which direction I’d came from.”
“Detective!” He chastised, eyes flying open again, “How old were you exactly?”
“About five or six. A bit younger than Trixie when you first met her.” She added to clarify, knowing how limited his experience with children was.
“What happened?” He gasped. Honestly, the thought of any version of the Detective alone in the dangers of the dark unsettled him. Humans were fragile. Human spawn? Even more fragile. He hoped no harm had come to his beautiful Detective.
“Lucifer, relax.” She laughed, “It was over thirty years ago!”
Still.
“I didn’t get attacked by a bear or anything like that. Dad and some rangers ended up finding me in a few hours. It was so dumb... I was so scared… I had nightmares about wandering around in the dark, alone, for years. Sometimes, I’d monsters in the shadows but other times… It was just the feeling of it all, you know?”
He did know.
It was what some of his current nightmares were about after all.
The endless darkness and solitude, the crushing loneliness, the painful uncertainty of one’s fate…
It wasn’t the same of course, but it was close enough wasn’t it?
“I woke dad up more often than not the first few weeks.” She continued, “He was always so patient… So loving and caring. Mom thought I was being ridiculous. It was one of their most major fights. One night, I’d had a particularly bad nightmare where he’d… died and I got stuck alone wandering in the dark forever.”
She paused and Lucifer began to panic.
Was she going to cry?
Was he supposed to hug her? Kiss her? Make love to her? Distract her?
He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Her father had always been a touchy subject for her. Lucifer didn’t really understand it. He could hardly think about his Father without wanting to smash something. John Decker though…
The Detective had nothing but amazing stories that seemed made up to say about him. Could fathers really be that loving and attentive? It seemed unrealistic.
“I couldn’t stop crying.” She scoffed, “Dad had been trying to get me to calm down for hours and nothing was working. So he… he did this.”
Lucifer waited, eyes closed, wondering what she was talking about. He was beyond clueless. His curiosity was almost all-consuming. What magical cure for nightmares did John Decker have?
“I don't even know how it worked, but it helped. A lot. Don’t laugh.” The Detective told him, “Just… just do as I say, yeah?”
“Anything for you, my love.”
He got another kiss on the forehead for that. Honestly, all her gentle love was doing wonders at calming him down. Whatever was coming next would be a bonus.
“Imagine yourself back in your nightmare.” She began, voice soft, fingers stroking his temples and cheeks.
“I don’t see how that would be relaxing.” Lucifer frowned.
“See.” She sighed, “I told you it’s stupid.”
“I’m there.” He amended.
“Describe it to me.”
“It’s… cold. Barren. Ash is raining down from the darkness above. I’m… I’m all a-alone. I walk for ages and there’s no one there. I walk for all of eternity without you or… or anyone and….”
He hated this.
What was the point of reliving his pain?
“Imagine me there.”
Lucifer bolted upright, almost hitting the Detective’s chin with his forehead.
“Never!”
“Lucifer-”
“Detective, you are never setting foot in that place!”
“Lucifer-”
“No!” He seethed, furious.
“Lucifer, just-”
“I can’t believe you would even say something remotely similar to that because-”
“Lucifer!” She almost yelled.
He paused, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. Was she trying to make his nightmares worse?
“Lay back down and calm down.” The Detective ordered.
He needed a drink or ten. Some drugs would do nicely too.
He did as she told him to, almost forgetting what she was even talking about.
“Listen, please.” She brushed his hair away from his forehead before resuming, “Imagine me there with you, Lucifer.”
“What…? as my Queen?” He scoffed. What kind of idiocy was this? It wasn’t like someone as pure and as good as the Detective could ever possibly end up there naturally.
“Sure...” She shrugged, “Whenever you’re in the darkness like that, all alone, just imagine me next you. Walking right alongside you.”
“You could never be the Queen of Hell.” He declared, “You are too good for that fowl place.”
“Lucifer, screw Hell.” She sighed, “I’m talking about you. Wherever you go, I’ll follow. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there. If that means that I’ll be the Queen of Hell, then just give me a crown and point me towards the throne.”
This woman…
She was going to be the death of him.
“Surely… You cannot possibly mean that...” He was still lying there, eyes closed. She was still stroking his face. Lucifer was afraid that he was going to do something pathetic again.
“Except that I would.” The Detective promised, “Every single time. I don’t know what it entails, but I’ll always be there for you, Lucifer. You and Trixie… you’re my whole world.”
There was only one thing to do after hearing that.
“Your father was a horrible, cruel man, Detective.” He groaned when the tears came despite his best attempts at stopping them.
“He sure was.” She rolled her eyes.
They were silent for a while.
"Well, you already are the one and only person who has tamed the devil, my love." He mused, "You have free reign over me at all times. My queen in each and every aspect..."
"Lucifer..."
She looked adorable when she was blushing like that, looking at him as though he was some sort of miracle instead of her. Seeing her like this was doing things to him...
"It's true!" He laughed, "You are already a queen, Detective!"
"You are exceptionally sweet, mister." The Detective grinned, "Exceptionally cheesy too."
"The devil is not cheesy!"
"He's a helpless romantic though." She amended, bopping his nose like he'd done to her countless times, "It's oddly adorable."
"Adorable?" He echoed, mortified.
"Adorable." She confirmed.
"You commanding the hordes of demons..." Lucifer mused, "Red suits you, Detective. You would be a sight for sore eyes... Not that you aren't always."
"Trixie could be the Princess of Hell." The Detective giggled.
"She is the closest thing I have to an heir." Lucifer nodded thoughtfully.
The Detective stared at him, eyes wide.
Had he said something wrong?
"Lucifer, that's..."
"I'd never let either of you close to that place!" He quickly sputtered, "I just meant that, theoratically, in the somwhat humourous scenario that you provided, it would... It would just be..."
"Lucifer." She shook her head, "That's not what I meant... You think of Trixie as... your daughter?"
"Well, not that." He winced, "The urchin doesn't deserve something as disasterous as that... I am almost certain that I would make a terrible father, but yes. Something along those lines?"
He was loathe to think of the urchin as his daughter of all things. Lucifer was under the firm belief that she deserved better. However, he was... fond of the little hellion and he would do anything to keep her safe. Doctor Linda had gently told him that that's what parents were like. So he...
He was confused in all honesty.
He had no idea what to say or do.
"We love you." The Detective whispered, "Me and Trix. You know that, right?"
Her fingers were stroking his temples, occasionally drifting down to scratch at his stubble before moving back up.
"You're family." She continued, "The best damn family anyone could ask for, Lucifer."
"Surely you must be joking..." He marvelled.
He didn't have a family. His family had tossed him out like trash eons ago. His family loathed him and allowed him to be vilified for all of eternity.
His family was the reason he didn't believe in such preposterous things -like family- in the first place.
The word was echoing in his head, endless and constant. He was never going to be free of it. Why would the Detective say something like that?
He looked at her, finding nothing but sincere honesty etched in every line of her beautiful face. Her eyes were sad, fixed on his own and overflowing with a multitude of emotions that he could not even begin to name,
"I-I don't understand..."
He could live another billion years and not understand.
"It's okay." The Detective assured him, accenting her words with a firm kiss to his lips, "We'll help."
"Detective..."
"I love you, my King." She smiled. It was one of those smiles that instantly made him feel as though everything was going to be okay. "I don't think we need a lot more than that."
"I love you too, my Queen." He managed to say, still not quite over his shock at the odd turn their conversation had taken.
Lucifer was almost certain that he would never be. It seemed inconsequential though when the Detective leaned down to kiss him again, intent on showing him just how much she loved him.
It was nothing like what he had felt or experienced before.
That wasn't bad or scary though. It was good and beautiful; a clear, new headline for what was probably shaping up to be a new amazing part of his long, long life.