It was all his fault.

He wasn't fast enough. With all his power at his disposal, he still had to be aware of a possible danger in order to respond. He couldn't slow time like Amenadiel; that wasn't in his array of gifts. Once an event was already happening, Lucifer was reliant on his own reaction time as much as anyone else. Which, admittedly, wasn't always better than that of the humans around him, if history was any judge.

Daniel blamed himself too, but he was literally only human, it was to be expected. The man wasn't fast enough - never could have been or hoped to be. He had a valid excuse for not moving faster. Lucifer did not. Not that speed would have helped after the fact. Not that he allowed it to be a valid excuse.

But if he, or really, anyone, had been paying just a little more attention…

The scene was too much like the one when Delilah died in his arms - too many flashing lights, too many cars in states of collision, though one lane was still open. The nighttime darkness should not have been an issue for him. He was distracted, but he shouldn't have been.

The arrestee had been going along meekly, allowing himself to be walked toward the police car in handcuffs, the very image of a submissive culprit. Nothing about his outward demeanor suggested his next frantic actions. As he was being led to a police car, he suddenly changed direction, shoving Chloe sideways into traffic in a foolish bid to escape police custody.

Lucifer ran, everyone reacted when they witnessed it - as it was happening - but not fast enough. The crack of flesh and bone against metal - she was clipped by a truck mirror, hard enough to spin and fall, hitting her head twice in a split second, her blonde hair flying and seeping blood at her scalp.

Lucifer bit his tongue when others instructed him to stay back, yelling at him that you never move a victim with a possible broken neck. He hovered, fists clenching and unclenching. Even if he could have moved her to a hospital himself, he didn't know what was broken. It was all he could do not to descend over her body, wings protectively huddled over her until the agonizing minutes counted down and the ambulance arrived. Doing so would just cause far more harm than help.

His feathers repaired other Celestials, not humans.

The other option was to yell at the night sky, and he already knew the futility of such gestures. He was allowed to stay by her side, stroking her hand until the emergency vehicles arrived. Not that anyone was capable of moving him.

EMTs carefully braced her head with plastic bits and structures, cradling her for the ride. Dan went with her, but he had to follow separately.

If he'd only he had been looking in the right direction, he could've-

Dan gave him a sympathetic look as the ambulance doors shut.

Lucifer got to the hospital first.

Witnessing her transferred was nearly as bad as the aftermath of the accident; he could do nothing. Daniel didn't even look surprised to find Lucifer standing outside, waiting, shifting feet.

Nameless humans flitted around, moving her, one slipped a paper bracelet on her wrist.

"Her vitals are good."

"Her brain activity is regular."

When they rolled her gurney away for x-rays, her form covered in tubes and surrounded by people, Lucifer and Dan regarded each other uncomfortably. It was broken by an orderly asking a question then shoving a form at Dan, which he signed blindly, not even looking at it.

Lucifer, strained, couldn't help but comment that few of his contracts were actually signed.

Daniel dared him to make a comment about heaven or hell, but he couldn't respond to the taunt. Her soul wasn't in either one of those places. Nor was it entirely here, but it still hung by a thread to her body.

Lucifer could have reached out and plucked it, but feared to disturb it. He could see it as she was wheeled away, stretched thin as spun glass, but holding on with the strength of a thousand suns.

It might not be enough.

Lucifer turned his attention to the hovering ex-husband. "Why are you signing forms? Aren't you divorced yet?"

Daniel gave him a tight. dark look, but answered, "I'm still her point of contact. And we never got around to getting off each others' insurance, mostly for Trixie's sake. It might help her here."

"If it's a matter of cost-"

"Not right now, okay? If you really are Lucifer, now would be a great time to put in a good word with your dad."

He tried not to be affronted. Really. "Like He'd listen to me, no more now than any other time in human history. Clearly Dad didn't care any other time his personal creations were in mortal danger."

"You know what? I'm taking you up on the hospital bill thing."

Lucifer looked between his knees. "They can fix her, can't they? That's what this miserable building is for, correct?"

He heard Daniel blow out his breath forcefully. "Lucifer, I swear to-She's alive. They're going to do their best to keep her that way."

Lucifer half expected to see his sister floating by, but she wasn't busy here, tonight. It made him slightly relieved. He was going to retort anyway, when rolling wheels signaled Chloe's return.

The curtain drew back on sliding metal rings, and she was rolled in by a nurse, lying as pale as before. Her clothing had been removed and replaced with a drab cloth gown and a blanket. An IV had been hung over her head, threaded into her right arm and taped securely in place. She had been intubated, a machine breathing for her.

The doctor said he'd be back to discuss the various scan results in a bit, turning to leave as quickly as he came.

When Daniel only nodded helplessly, Lucifer jumped, grabbing the doctor's arm, eyes simmering. "Why not now?!"

The doctor leaned back, shaking him off. Lucifer thought he must be losing his touch. "Multiple surgeons have to be consulted - we don't yet know the best course of action - the wrong one could injure her further. We'll let you know when we have a care plan. Grab me again like that and you'll be escorted out."

Lucifer growled, standing his ground for a split second. "Inform me as soon as you have that."

The doctor looked like he was going to argue, then nodded and left again.

Dan stopped gripping the rails of the chair, nearly shouting, "dude, do not get us thrown out!"

Lucifer straightened his cuffs. "Fear not. He won't cross me again, or you."

Daniel gave him slightly more credence when another nurse came in to tell them they had to leave the ICU for the night. Lucifer merely waved his fingers at her and said something that coaxed her into relaxing 'visiting hours'. For once, Dan said nothing sarcastic about Lucifer's abilities.

Someone came in and handed Dan a small plastic bag, which he stuffed in his pocket without looking in it. The orderly said it was the only thing on her person that wasn't thrown away when they had to prep her. Whatever it was, he wasn't ready to deal with it.

Trixie even came in after a few hours. She said Amenadiel dropped her off. Dan didn't question it, too tired and too grateful to care how or why. Lucifer only noted that Amenadiel didn't come in himself. Maybe Maze told him to do it. He and Dan had hunched over their phones, texting a few people before getting listless. Penny was contacted but she was out of town, and would be returning as fast as possible. Linda said she'd come visit soon. Dan's parents sent their best, and prayers.

The staff recommended they go home. They would be notified immediately of any change in her condition.

Neither Daniel, Trixie nor he left.

Lucifer stopped hoping every knock on the doorframe to Chloe's cubby hole was someone with useful information. Or for that matter, someone useful. Usually, it was a CNA who came to check her pulse, her IV, blood pressure and temperature. Chloe was on monitors, but rounds were still made to visually check her. Professional and quick, they were in and out without fuss. As if Chloe wasn't the most important human in the world to him. Them, probably, he amended, glancing at Trixie and Daniel.

Once, someone came in to change the trash, mop the floor and wipe the unused TV screen. The nameless woman in scrubs barely looked up at them, mechanically efficient in her duties. In and out, dancing around cords and feet.

Nurses came in on the shift change, made polite talk, but had no new information.

Sometime in the night, an unrelated, unseen gurney rattled past without stopping.

Her primary doctor came again later, explaining that Chloe was in a coma, and it could be hours or days before she came out on her own. The comatose state was one of those things not well understood, except that it happens. Occasionally, they are medically induced, but not often - so that much was known. Her heart was healthy, as were her organs, save some swelling from shock, her blood results all within normal ranges. She had a line fracture on her skull, but it wasn't too serious, as long as her brain didn't swell. Her wrist had a sprain.

Lucifer asked, "It's a matter of time, then?"

"If she recovers, we don't know how long it might take."

"What do you mean, 'if'?"

Daniel looked like he was bracing himself, but let the doctor answer.

"Not all coma patients recover, it just depends. Her body is trying to protect itself. We started her on antibiotics, she has fluids and someone will be by to move her limbs. She might move on her own, but don't mistake it for her coming around, necessarily. Does she have a living will?"

Dan growled. "Maybe? I don't know if she changed it after we divorced, but...we had one."

"If you could bring it by, that would help."

Lucifer stood. "You're prepared to let her go just like that?"

Daniel rubbed his face. "We're cops. Detectives. We're required to have one. It's a standard thing, Lucifer. They ask everyone that question. Having one is just being responsible. Come to think of it, you should have one too, or any family might fight over your money when you die."

The Devil wasn't mollified. "Mortals. You'd think Dad would have created you with better back-up systems. My family has no interest in my worldly possessions, no need to fret over me."

The doctor side-eyed him. Hard. "Perhaps you should take a break? We have a cafeteria."

"Or you could point me in the direction of the hospital pharmacy." He found to his own mild surprise that he didn't really want to be distracted by drugs right now, not when she could snap out of this at any time.

Perhaps deliberately misunderstanding, he said, "there's a gift shop that also sells over-the-counter medications, as well. You're the, what, club owner guy, right?" He left out eccentric but everyone heard it anyway.

Dan cut off a response with, "he's a police consultant too. He was at the scene when Chloe was hit."

Lucifer was getting tired of sympathetic looks.

After the third time someone thought they were being comforting by saying, 'it could have been much worse', Lucifer nearly snapped. On the fifth, the only thing stopping his flood of anger from cresting was Chloe lying there, reminding him he couldn't protect her if he got escorted out.

He, the ex-Lord of Hell, was wrong about what constituted Hell. This was Hell.

The first night, Trixie passed out on Daniel. She could hug her mom but she wasn't supposed to fall asleep with her - too many tubes. At some point, she got up again, used the bathroom and wandered over to Lucifer, who took the less comfy chair. And really, two chairs was pushing it in the space available.

"Have you slept?"

He startled a little. "No, child, I can go several days without sleep. Longer, if need be."

"Is mom asleep?"

Lucifer faced the child, his face reflected in her huge eyes. "She's unconscious. Her doctors-"

She whispered, "Can you do anything?"

His throat went dry. Technically, there was little he could do. "I...am not a healer. There is something you can do, though."

"What?"

"Pray. Someone might hear you. The odds of anyone actually doing anything - well." He caught his breath as her lips tugged down at the corners. "I guess it doesn't hurt to try."

She nodded firmly, like she just might be the first little girl in history to have her prayers answered by anyone listening.

Stranger things have happened. He didn't lie, but there was no reason to steal her hope. "I wish you success."

Chloe blinked in grey light. Fog, maybe. Colorless and vague.

The mist dissipated slowly, some color and definition coming in, but not much, yet. She held as still as a deer in a meadow, looking around as the room, a hallway? became more focused. It seemed like she stood inside an old, old house, kept in good condition. Victorian, maybe, a wooden chair rail running along each side of the hall, plaster walls and deep pile rugs over hardwood.

There were wooden staircases that creaked, but not in her eye line. She couldn't say what floor she was on. But she knew there were more than two. Just not how. Light filtered in from between heavy red velvet curtains. She peered out a window, but it was like looking into a sunrise, blinding. She took a step back and picked a direction to walk instead, blinking purple spots out of her vision.

Chloe stopped and looked down on the first step she took, feeling her toes encased in hard leather boots that hadn't been worn in yet. She was wearing her old Officer's uniform, crisp and free of lint or wear. She had cuffs, her firearm, the whole kit. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, clean bun like she used to wear all the time. Slowly, she pulled out her radio, twisting it on. "Anyone out there?"

Static. She clicked it off and put it back.

"Are you new, dear?"

Chloe turned around, confronted by a kindly looking older woman with light eyes who pricked at her memory, but she didn't know why. "Where am I?"

"Purgatory, dear. Can I show you to your room or would you like a snack?" the woman seemed to be a caretaker, dressed nicely but more like a personal butler than a cleaning woman. But she said...

Chloe felt her mouth dry up.

The woman continued, "you don't need to eat here, but a spot of tea might settle your nerves, love."

Love.

"Where is Lucifer?"

She winced. "He's watching over you. On the earthly plane. Hasn't left your side more than he's had to."

"Wait, this is...purgatory? Am I dead?"

"No. Not...yet. you may yet return to your body, but I can't say either way myself. Your body is in a coma. Most who wait here no longer have a body, however."

Okay...okay…"so I'm in a hospital bed, hallucinating?" She didn't know why she felt asking that to an imaginary woman could possibly be helpful.

"If that makes you feel better, please go with that. Would you like to follow me to the kitchen, dear?"

The kitchen was almost right out of Practical Magic, full of herbs, antique dishware, a garden door and everything. Her guide put a kettle on and Chloe barely had time to digest more of the comfortable scenery before a delicate cup and plate appeared in front of her.

Well, she was out of her mind, dreaming or this was real. Anyway she cut it, she didn't seem to be in control.

It certainly tasted like tea. She held the thin, warm cup in her hands, a little milk, a little sugar. Her mind reeled, a pulse echoing in her skull. She just held the cup under her nose for a minute, inhaling the scents. There was a cookie on her plate too.

"...so, it's true? Heaven and Hell? Assuming I'm not inventing all of this?"

The woman nodded. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"You may call me Persephone, if you're familiar with the story, though I have other names too."

She peered closely at the gray-haired woman.

"Lucifer isn't Hades, but I am one of a few who can travel where I please."

"Okay. Say that I'm not hallucinating, how long will I be here?"

"When and if your body heals, you'll return there. Otherwise, well, you'll finally meet Lucifer's father, whom he complains so much about." She tsk'd, frowning over her own cup of tea.

"Heaven?"

"You're surprised, dear? Yes, of course. Your own father is there as well."

Chloe's eyes threatened to well up. She reached up to brush back her long bangs, and her fingers came away bloody.

"What-?"

"Don't fret. The injuries of your body sometimes filter through to here, since you still have one. It will pass."

"What happened to me?"

"Accident. You can be sure the man who pushed you isn't likely to make amends enough to run into him again. Unless of course, you don't die, then, who knows?"

Her right hand felt warm. She looked at it. Someone back...home touched her and she tried to reach back, but it was gone again. She let her breath out, focusing on the present. Whatever it meant. The blood on her fingers was gone. She rubbed them together. Dry.

At least she wasn't in pain, aside from the attention-seeking pulse in her head. The hot tea was soothing on her stomach, even if it wasn't real.

"I'll bite. What do I do now?"

Persephone smiled politely. "You can mingle with the other residents in the common areas, rest in your room or simply hang about. You cannot harm or be harmed here. You cannot leave until your soul is at peace again, one way or the other. The garden is accessible, but limited. There's also balcony that looks out on the horizon. Most find it disquieting, so it's usually empty."

Chloe glanced at the gun on her belt.

"It's merely a reminder of who you were when you were most grounded in your life. Your items won't work here. You can change if you like."

Chloe decided not to delve into that just yet. Her hands fiddled with her cup. Looking down at them again, a glint caught her eye. The bullet necklace Lucifer gave her hung loosely around her neck. She gripped it, feeling the metal edges. She only had been wearing it a few days, just past her birthday. It was new, not particularly life-changing; not like graduating and becoming a cop.

"I didn't wear this before recently…" Definitely not with the uniform.

"It grounds you. It's important to you, even if you don't realize it. Does it mean something?"

"Yeah, a gift. From Lucifer, actually. I'm still a little embarrassed about it, where it came from, and I don't really know why he kept it or even had it made." Chloe gripped it between her thumb and forefinger, holding it up so the other woman could see it. "I guess he wanted to give it back to me, he said, and he made a bad joke about it, but it's kind of growing on me, and it's actually quite pretty. But, honestly, who keeps a bullet they were shot with?"

That got a reaction. "Lucifer? You... shot Lucifer?" Persephone rubbed her face, her caretaker poise failing her. "Kids these days..."

Chloe grinned a little. "That's the thing. He kept trying to convince me he wouldn't be hurt if I did. And I still didn't really mean to, I"m really lucky I didn't get in trouble with the department, but he smoothed things over. I still don't know what came over me - maybe just for a split second, I believed he wouldn't be injured."

She grimaced over her own tea. "Well, he shouldn't have. Mortal weapons don't usually have any effect..."

"Oh, come on, seriously? Do you know him? I mean, if I'm not imagining all this?" then again, she was told where she was, but it had to be a crazy dream, right?

She smiled. "I did. He was a very bright boy. Is he spending a great deal of time on Earth?"

Roll with the insanity. Why not. "He owns a nightclub and he's my working partner. I've known him for years, now."

She smiled. "I'm glad he gets out of Hell. Dreary place. It's not actually his, you know."

Chloe drained her cup.. "What do you mean?"

"He didn't create it, he just runs it. There's no sunlight in Hell, he must miss it."

"Sure. Makes sense." she frowned, realizing that may have been more flippant than she intended.

Persephone shot her a look. "You aren't on good terms, then?"

Chloe fingered her necklace again, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. "No, we are, it's just hard when he won't drop...the act…"

"Hmmm."

"I mean, he can't be, right? It's an act? I shot him."

"Hmmm. It's probably for the best you don't believe him. If more mortals did, Father would probably truly force him to return to Hell. Upsets the balance, the system that Father put in place."

Chloe sat quietly a moment longer. Her tea was refilled. "But...why?"

"Wouldn't you leave Hell if you could?"

Chloe mulled it over. She wasn't ready to admit this wasn't a dream. It was incredibly realistic, but still.

She clung to her shriveling shreds of atheism, being told she would enter Heaven, despite her beliefs, or lack thereof. It was too much to hope for; a real chance to see her own father again? Her heart raced.

No. Not without real proof. Not even here. She wouldn't feed that. If she accepted that she was truly in purgatory, and accepted the words of her escort, it meant she was close to death. Accepting it meant one step away from life, not back towards it. There was too much yet to do, back home. This can't be real, a real place with real people.

Not yet.

"I want to see the balcony."