Chapter Text
“Good morning, Detective!” Lucifer chirped brightly, sauntering up to Chloe’s desk and perching on a corner of it. “Any nasty murders for us to solve? I’m up for a bit of fun today, if you need me.”
He leaned in closer to her, eyes gleaming with flirtatious desire as he added, “In fact, if you have any needs at all that are going unfulfilled I’d be happy to-”
“What are you wearing?” Chloe asked distractedly, ignoring his flirtation.
“Oh! I love that game. But I usually play it over the phone,” he said, with a wicked laugh. “I’m wearing a black Armani suit, with an eggplant waistcoat and a white Egyptian cotton shirt that is so soft against my skin. Do you want me to–”
Chloe raised a hand in the air to cut him off. “Stop, just stop. Please. I meant the pin on your lapel.”
“Oh this?” Lucifer asked, surprised. He leaned back out of her personal space as he fingered the tri-colored button in question with its bright stripes of fuchsia, lavender, and blue. “A Pride pin. Bisexual pride to be precise. I don’t like to wear the plain rainbow – it reminds me too much of Dad.”
“Your dad is gay?” Chloe asked in surprise, furrowing her brow.
Lucifer snorted and laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. No, you know, the rainbow? In your silly bible? Dad’s sign in the heavens saying, ‘Sorry I drowned the earth, whoops, lost my temper, promise I won’t do it again’?”
“Ah, of course. Your dad was very religious, then?”
“Obviously. He defined religion for all of us. What he said was law.”
Chloe nodded. Lately she’d been starting to piece together a picture of what Lucifer’s background was like, underneath all the metaphors or self-delusion. She was never quite sure how much of his own spiel he believed, but either way it was clearly a coping mechanism rooted in trauma.
“Back to more pleasant topics, shall we? LA Pride is coming up – it is June already you know, how time does fly on earth,” Lucifer chattered, “and I do like to show my colors. Pride is one of my favorite sins, after all! Even being cast out of heaven hasn’t stopped that. What a lovely celebration of freedom it is, don’t you think?”
“You’re bisexual, then? Sorry, I know you flirt with men sometimes, but I didn’t know that was serious; I thought it was just for cases. I had assumed with all the women at Lux…” Chloe trailed off, with an embarrassed look. Lucifer didn’t seem at all fazed by either her assumption or her stumbling apology.
“Well, I do prefer women, but I also take men to my bed from time to time, when the mood strikes me and a man is particularly handsome or in dire need of my attentions.”
Chloe nodded distractedly. “Hmm.”
Lucifer grinned toothily at her. “Can’t stop thinking about it now, can you? Are you imagining me in bed with a handsome muscular fellow with buttocks so firm you could bounce a quarter off them? You know if you feel like a Devil’s Threesome I’d be happy to oblige, emphasis on the Devil. Preferably not with Detective Douche though.”
“No. I’m not having sex with you, Lucifer!”
“You could just watch, if you prefer,” he purred.
“No.”
Lucifer sighed. “Such a shame. I’ll find out what you truly desire one of these days, Detective. Well, what were you thinking of, then?”
“Your father, actually.” Though her mind might have wandered a little to what kind of men were Lucifer’s type, she’d never admit it.
Lucifer’s face screwed up in disgust. “Well, now my mood’s definitely been ruined. Whatever are you thinking about him for when you should have been thinking lascivious forbidden thoughts about yours truly?”
Chloe hesitated about whether to be honest with him or not and decided in the end to just go for it. But… carefully. “I was wondering… did your father throw you out of home-”
“Heaven.”
“-alright, did your father throw you out of heaven for being bisexual? The sin of ‘pride’? Did he… punish you for that?”
With a sigh, Lucifer’s face fell into serious lines devoid of flirtation that she usually only saw when he was truly upset about a case or some personal crisis. “You won’t believe me. No-one ever does. So honestly, what’s the point in discussing it?”
Chloe winced. Had he told people of abuse, and not been believed? So many times that he hid the truth in crazy metaphors so that being disbelieved wouldn’t sting so much? “I’m sorry if I don’t always believe what you tell me. But, I’ll do my best to listen. You can… use whatever words you like to talk about it. Whatever makes you comfortable.”
“Very well, Detective,” Lucifer said, fiddling with his cufflinks. “I don’t expect you will believe me, but I am an honest devil, and if you truly want to hear about my past today…?”
“I do.”
“Then I shall do my best to oblige. So, where to begin? Well, some say I was cast out for pride, and there is some fairness to that tale, but at its heart it was more that dear old Dad didn’t like being questioned. My sin of ‘pride’ was daring to think my opinion was as valuable as his – I wasn’t humble enough for him. I asked him why those mortals outside of heaven got freedoms that we – his own children – were denied. They could live, and love, and choose their own lives, whereas we had to live only as commanded – his will was our will. Why couldn’t I have free will too? Why couldn’t all of us? Weren’t we as good as they were? Was it pride to think for a moment that my desires mattered too? To rebel against the constant humility and obedience he required of us, thinking himself so far above us all that he need not explain himself or his dictates?” His voice deepened to low, angry tones the longer he talked.
“It doesn’t seem too prideful to me, for what that’s worth. So, you questioned him, and he kicked you out for rebelling against him. You weren’t allowed to love who you wanted? Let me guess - you had to dress a special way and act only in accordance with religious law?”
“In accordance with Dad’s will, correct. How did you know about the robes? Did you catch Amenadiel in a dress? I’ve tried to tell him not to do that, but he does lapse from time to time. Ordinary modern clothes are still a bit of a struggle for him. He thinks hoodies are the cutting edge of fashion just because he sees a lot of young men with the same skin tone as himself wearing them. Honestly.”
“It’s common for cult leaders to dictate what their followers should wear. It was just a guess, but it seemed in keeping a rigid, authoritarian religious community. Am I right?”
Lucifer smiled suddenly, a flash of brilliant white teeth. “Oh, dear old Dad a cult leader, oh yes, that does fit, doesn’t it? I’ve never thought of him like that, but I suppose he is, isn’t he? Yes, obey all his rules, never question him, don’t act outside your sphere, love only him and no-one else, for he is a jealous god, after all. It is rather like a human cult, isn’t it? Only, one you daren’t rebel against or leave because the punishment is immeasurably more extreme.”
Chloe kept a carefully straight face, thanks to years of police work. Love only him. Oh my god, was Lucifer sexually abused? She wanted to ask but feared the answer.
Easy, Chloe. Don’t scare him off while he’s opening up, she told herself.
“But you’re free of that now. So is your mum, correct?” Chloe asked gently. “She’s in town, now?”
“She literally had to suffer through years in hell, but yes, I suppose she is free of him now, though she’s still obsessed with him. They fought a lot before she left. I can’t forgive her for her part in things, though, not like she wants me to. She just stood there and said nothing while I was cast into hell!”
“And uh… how does that make you feel? Having to interact with her again? After she stood by while your father punished you? Does she try to justify what she did, or has she apologized?”
Lucifer’s anger subsided at the question, and a little grin snuck out. “Why Detective, I feel like I’m in a therapy session with Linda. Perhaps your office area here needs a sofa added to it.”
“Sorry. I’m just… trying to be… you know. A friend.”
“Well, it’s appreciated,” he said, with a tilted nod of his head. “And obviously it is very difficult. She’s tried to apologize, in her own way. She says she wants to reconnect with all her children. I suppose she’s trying to both apologize and justify her behavior. She says that father initially wanted to kill me, but she talked him down to just punishing me. Casting me out.”
Chloe exerted some effort to maintain her calm and sympathetic expression. “Your father wanted to kill you?”
“Apparently. Obliterate me from existence. It sounds plausible, I suppose. He certainly had no qualms about torturing me now, did he? He didn’t care about my fall, about how I burnt. About my years of suffering.”
Chloe leaned forwards and rested a hand on his knee. “Lucifer. If you’re ready, we can press charges. There might be some Statute of Limitations issues with some things but probably not everything. We can get justice for whatever your father did to you, or to others. Just tell me his name and where he lives.”
“God. In Heaven,” Lucifer said, ticking the answers off on his fingers. “I don’t think you’ll find he cares much for the judgement of mortal police and the criminal justice system on his actions, Detective. Though I do appreciate the thought. It’s very kind of you.”
Chloe shut her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath, biting back her instinctive urge to argue with him. Talking to abuse victims needed a gentle touch. Prior to the Palmetto mess which had isolated her from her fellow detectives, Detective Jones in the Juvenile Division had once sobbed to her over a beer at ‘The Paddock’ about how she’d spent the day interviewing a bruised eight-year-old girl named Emily who insisted that her father hadn’t ever touched her, only the imaginary girl ‘Sally’. Perhaps Lucifer had Dissociative Identity Disorder borne of trauma too, like psychologists had eventually concluded the young girl had developed.
This needed a gentle touch. “Are there… any other names he goes by? Ones he used earlier in his life, perhaps?”
“Jehovah? Yahweh, Allah? I am that I am? Take your pick. You do remember we’re talking about God, right?”
“Yes, yes, I remember. And he lives…?”
“In the Silver City.”
Chloe nodded with a touch of relief. That sounded… almost like an actual place. Non-biblical. It was probably going to be the best clue she’d get. “An isolated community?”
“You can’t really get more isolated. Even Hell is easier to get to.”
“No phones? Electricity?”
“Of course not! Angels don’t need such things.”
“Of course not,” Chloe agreed easily. “Can outsiders visit?”
“Not unless they want to die. Michael guards the gates against intruders. I’d rather you didn’t die just to visit, Detective. Not until your time is up. No rush.”
Chloe nodded slowly, blonde ponytail bobbing gently. “I’ll try not to die.”
Lucifer smiled at her again. “Good. Well, this has been a very interesting chat. Are you finally starting to believe me, Detective?”
“More and more. I’m doing the best I can to understand everything,” Chloe promised.
“Well I appreciate the effort, even if you’re not quite there yet. Perhaps we can have a chat about your own family next time? Perhaps over dinner?”
“Maybe. Don’t push your luck, buster,” she said with a grin.
“And what do you think of it all? What I’ve told you.” He was trying to look casual, but she saw the glint of insecurity in his eyes.
Chloe reached out and took his hands, clasping them between her own. “I think your dad was an asshole, and you were right to leave. You deserve the chance to live your own life, one that’s not centered around some narcissistic, abusive, holier-than-thou patriarch. You were right to rebel, and I’m proud of you for leaving to live your own life and not some narrow religious existence he’d dictated to you.”
Lucifer’s eyes looked suddenly shiny. “You… you really think God’s an asshole? I wasn’t wrong to demand free will for myself and my siblings?”
“Yes. ‘God’ is an asshole, and you’re better off without him. Even if it meant you had to suffer through hell for a while before you managed to escape to LA.”
“I… thank you. Just… thank you,” Lucifer said, looking into her eyes with such a look of pure wonder at her support that it broke her heart. She was so glad she’d tried working with his metaphors instead of trying to challenge or ignore them like she usually did. “I want you to know that-”
Lieutenant Monroe interrupted them at what felt like the worst possible moment.
“Enough flirting, you two. You’ve got a case now, Decker. Looks like a drug dealer killed in a mob hit,” Monroe said, handing Chloe a thin file. “Lopez says the vic’s still wearing a solid gold chain, so initial forensics suggests it’s not just a robbery or drug deal gone wrong. A turf war, perhaps, or he might have crossed the mob and paid the price. Look into it.”
Case assigned, the Lieutenant walked off back to her office. She was a busy woman these days, with the sweet plum of a job of Chief of Police almost within her sights.
Lucifer looked filled with righteous fury on the victim’s behalf. “Right, Detective. Let’s go and find justice for this poor man whose mob family punished him as a lesson for others not to disobey the Godfather’s outrageous dictates about how he should live his life!”
Chloe shook her head. It was always about him, wasn’t it? “Come on, Lucifer. We’ve got a killer to find and punish,” she said gently.
“Yes, we do,” he agreed, his rich voice underlaid with menacing promise. His lips stretched to bare teeth in one of his more disturbing toothy smiles.
Poor man. The Lieutenant was wrong. Chloe didn’t have a case. She had two cases now. The drug dealer’s murder, and Lucifer’s past.