NOTE: I am completely obsessed with Lucifer on Netflix. Like completely, completely obsessed, so I decided to write this fanfiction. I would ask what you think, but if you are in your right minds, you will hate this because it is black, black, black as night. Content warning: major character death. p.s. Sorry about the initial formatting. I don't know what I did wrong! p.p.s. Now with section breaks!

I Am Poison

Her hand shook as she reached out, extending the fancy, antique vial Father Kinley had given her over Lucifer's wine glass. She had decided before she had come here and promised herself no more of her inconstant waffling. This was the best thing for everyone on earth. But, here, now, she was shaking like a leaf and hesitating when he could be back at any moment. Any moment. Any moment. The thought repeated like the tattoo of her heart. The first strains of Bell Biv DeVoe's Poison blared from his speaker system, startling her out of her trance, and she upended the vial.

She was just tucking it away again when he came back into the room with a wide smile on his face, saying, "I'm sorry. I can't believe I left it so loud."

Her smile was weaker than a newborn kitten, and a small piece of her was shocked that he couldn't see right through her. Shouldn't the Prince of Lies be better at, well, seeing through lies.

No. No. She wasn't going to let the worms of her doubts consume her again. Now that Father Kinley had shown her the truth, she'd seen clearly all day and thinking back on many occasions before. She could see the myriad ways he adjusted his behavior as he gauged her reactions. Even now, he played music he'd seen on an old iPod only once, nearly two years ago. He'd studied and noted and saved the information away. What it was all for, she didn't know. But Kinley had shown her enough blood and death and destruction following the Devil that she knew it couldn't be good.

She'd almost let her old feelings overcome her when The Cabin blew up with him inside, but in the end that inferno had only confirmed what she already knew. He deceived. He walked through the towering flames unharmed even though he'd once "burned" himself saving her, playing her for her sympathy and gratitude. It hurt to realize it had all been a lie, calculated.

It was better, then, to send him back where he belonged...to send him home. Father Kinley said it would be better for him, too, to be there. She had to believe that. Hell was where the Devil belonged, after all.

He sat across from her with a pleased grin on his face. "I'm sooooo pleased I've finally got you here. I was beginning to think we were jinxed."

Chloe couldn't help her furtive glance at his glass. She could see the oily residue of the sedative floating on the surface of the dark wine. She hurriedly grabbed up both glasses, giving his a swirl.

"A toast," she proposed. "To ending...jinxes."

"Indeed!" He clinked his glass to hers and took a sip as she did.

She sighed, feeling as if she was floating, as if a weight had been lifted. Unsure of how much of the sedative he needed to drink or how long it would take, she settled back against the cushion propped against the couch, and watched as he did the same.

He gazed at her with a soft smile and then raised his glass in another toast. "And to a truly remarkable woman."

She flushed with shame but made the toast, watching him swallow.

"I was...afraid," he continued, "to show you for too long...and while you were gone, I feared..." He shook his head as if he was dismiss a bad memory. "But you've handled this better than I ever dared hope. You are truly special. I'm still not sure I'm worth it, but I'm glad we're giving, well, us a try. To beginnings!" He raised his glass in a third toast.

Chloe's hand was shaking just ever so slightly when she raised her glass. She struggled to keep her face schooled. Her cheeks wanted to twitch upward as her lip wanted to quiver. She wanted to cry. What if she was wrong? Could she call off Father Kinley? Somehow explain the sedative to Lucifer? How was she supposed to KNOW? What was her gut against all of human knowledge about the Devil?

"Are you quite alright?" he asked, sounding just a hint hurt.

She realized she hadn't responded to his deeply personal toast. "You give me too much credit, Lucifer."

"Of course not! You..." His eyes were soft, until his expression snapped back to poised. "But do eat your grilled cheese before it gets cold. We can talk more later, of course."

She nodded even though she doubted she would be able to keep it down even if she managed to swallow a bite. Instead of eating, she watched him take another sip of wine. His hand was trembling as he lowered the glass, the remaining wine sloshing in the bowl. He careful set it down, staring at his hand in confusion.

"That's strange..." Then he winced, his hand shooting to his head as if he'd felt a sharp pain. "I promise I didn't take any drugs before you arrived. I know how they affect me when you are around and I wouldn't do that on our date anyway..." He winced again. "Let me...let me just turn down the music."

He stood and swayed. She saw a trickle of blood running from his nose, seeming redder than red as it ran toward his lip in slow motion. Following her gaze, his hand rose to touch the blood. When he pulled his fingers away, he stared at them, uncomprehending.

Then he choked and blood was flowing from between his lips, as well.

His eyes shot to meet hers, and his eyebrows twitched together in hurt confusion and disbelief.

"But Chloe..." Whatever else he might have said was lost as he pitched forward.

An absolutely, utterly, and completely inappropriate giggle escaped her when he pitched forward and failed to catch himself before landing face-first on the thick tan carpet.

Her disbelief froze her to the spot, every muscle of her body simultaneously seizing up until, desperate for air, she heaved in a breath and the spell broke. She jumped forward and turned him over.

Blood covered the lower part of his face. Open, empty eyes stared back at her.

"Oh, no! No, no, no!" Her fingers felt for a pulse that she already knew wasn't there. What had she done?

She heard the ding of the elevator as she was laying him out to attempt CPR. The sweep of the ornate doors revealed Father Kinley and three men and one woman she didn't know.

"Help me! You said it was a sedative, but he's... Please help."

Father Kinley nodded to one of the men, but, instead of helping her, the man pulled her away from Lucifer.

"My child, he is sedate. And where he belongs. What sedative could really be safe for the Devil, after all?"

Chloe stared at the Father, too shocked and weak to fight the man who held her. This couldn't be happening. "You said there was a ceremony! You said we would send him home."

"Well, yes, of course, Chloe." He smiled at her as if she was a slow but beloved pupil. "A ritual to make sure he is bound in Hell. The texts aren't entirely clear whether he can return if he is killed. The Devil being vulnerable is unprecedented, after all."

"What...what do you mean? Vulnerable?" Her mind replayed quickly Lucifer's shock when she'd shot him, his annoyance at being burned, his cavalier reaction to be stabbed.

"You, Chloe! You make the Devil vulnerable. A miracle, of sorts. We would never have known if we hadn't been able to recover the Sinner Cain's file before the police."

Cain...Pierce. "M-me? But why?"

"Cain thought it was because you loved the Devil. He kept quite detailed notes. Cain himself sought death and believed that if you loved him instead he might become vulnerable enough to truly die. But Cain was mistaken." Father Kinley glanced at Lucifer's body. "You clearly didn't love the Devil." He turned his dark eyes back on her. "In fact, I rather believe it was the other way around. He was vulnerable around you because he loved you. God provides in mysterious ways."

"L-loved me?"

"Oh, child." He glanced at the single rose in its stem vase, the softly glowing candles, the congealing grilled cheese, and then finally at Lucifer. "That cannot matter now. You've done what was necessary. I dare say you've done what you were created for."

Chloe's attention snapped to her right as it was caught by the sound of furniture dragging on the floor. She had the absurd thought Lucifer was going to be SO angry if they gouged his floor or damaged the furniture, and a sobbed escaped her. Lucifer... It was Father Kinley who had lied to her. And she'd...she'd... Her heart constricted in the vice of her chest and she couldn't breath. At the same time, she saw clearly for the first time in weeks. Too too far too late.

One of Father Kinley's acolytes was drawing on Lucifer's floor with chalk. She struggled to see. "What are you doing?"

"The ceremony."

She furrowed her brow. "I thought that had to be at a special location."

"This one will do. In fact, it's ideal." He gave a nod and two more of the acolytes began to lift Lucifer's long form.

"No, wait! You can't!" She made to get up, but the man holding her tightened his grip. "We've made a mistake. If there's any chance he can come back...listen, he's not what you think. You have to stop!"

Father Kinley looked at her sadly. "I knew you weren't strong enough for this. Forgive me for misleading you on the details, but you had to and have to play your role."

She watched, helpless, as Lucifer's body was laid out in the center of the chalk marks. Father Kinley drew two vessels and several candles from a bag he'd brought and handed them to his followers. The woman placed the candles around Lucifer's form and began a low chant as she lit them. Father Kinley walked to the breaker box near the bar, throwing circuit breakers. The penthouse was bathed in near darkness, and for the first time Chloe had seen the bar unlit. She writhed in her captor's grip, needing to see what was happening, and he moved to give her a better view.

Father Kinley joined his followers who took up positions around Lucifer. Although Chloe didn't know the words Father Kinley spoke, she supposed they were Latin. He accepted one of the vessels and he began to swing it as he chanted. It contained some sort of liquid that splattered on Lucifer's body with each swing, darkening his suit. Holy water, Chloe wondered? He accepted the second vessel and repeated his performance. This time some type of powder spilled out. Dirt, perhaps, or ashes. When he was done, Lucifer was covered in filth. It was wrong, wrong, wrong.

The man holding Chloe seemed entranced with the ritual, and she used that moment to wrench free. She ran to Lucifer, breaking the chalk circle, frantically brushing the dirt from his face. Maybe if she could disrupt the ritual...

Arms hauled her back. Her captor must have given Father Kinley and apologetic look, for he said: "All is well. Better perhaps."

Chloe fought, her hands coming up to try to pry away the arm wrapped across her chest. That's when she smelled her hands. They smelled almost like...

"Amen," Father Kinley said.

He and the acolytes tipped over the candles and where the flames touched Lucifer's body, his clothes caught. And the he was burning, burning.

"No! No!" she screamed.

She was sobbing and hoarse by the time it was over. Her captor let her go, but she only sat where she was, unmoving.

Distantly, she heard sirens on the night air drifting in through the balcony door. A familiar music that did not register with her at first.

"Brothers and sister, it is time to go."

They gathered all they had brought except the vessels and candles which had been singed or consumed in the conflagration.

Before the elevator doors closed and he disappeared, Father Kinley looked at her sadly. "I must apologize again, my child. But I fear your role in binding the Devil in Hell isn't over."

Chloe sat in her prison cell.

The police had swarmed into the penthouse. They'd received a tip from a "concerned priest" who'd feared an unhinged woman he'd been counseling was going to harm an innocent man due to a dangerous obsession. And there she was. With his smoldering body marked with ritual. Accelerant on her hands. The vial of poison in her pocket with her prints and poison in his glass.

She didn't protest. She was guilty, after all.

Her thoughts circled to that night again and again, and most often to his surprised and confused expression as he began to realize what she'd done…and she wondered what he had been about to say.

But Chloe I thought we were partners.

Her friends visited, each in a state shock.

Dan, running his hands frantically through his hair: "What the hell, Chloe? What the hell? I mean the guy was a jackass, but what the hell!"

"Exactly the hell." Chloe choked out somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "He was the Devil. He was the Devil, and I thought, I thought…"

Dan shook his head. "What happened to you?"

But Chloe…why would you do this?

Maze, staring at her with her tongue in her cheek: "That was stone cold. I'm not sure whether to be pissed or impressed. Enjoy hell."

But Chloe I thought you liked bad '90s jams?

Ella, tears shining in her eyes, head shaking back in forth: "I'm trying to understand, I really am. But I can't, because it doesn't make any sense. So many bad things. So many bad things. Too many bad things."

But Chloe I thought you were good.

Linda, sitting too still, face blank: "I feel like this partly my fault. Maybe if I'd checked in with you. I thought you just needed time to process."

"It's not your fault. I made a terrible mistake, but it's not your fault."

Linda's impassive face broke. "Whatever else he was, he was a good man and my friend. And you killed him." Her voice rose and cracked in real anger. "Don't you know how much he hated hell? How hard he worked to escape it? Maze says he can never leave again."

"I—"

"He was a good man and he was trying and he loved you and you sent him back to hell for eternity." Linda was choking on the words, unable to continue, and so she pushed her chair back and, with a hand on her belly, walked away.

But Chloe I thought this was real?

The tabloids had a field day—the legitimate papers, too. A cop turned murder. Satanic rituals. Poison. A notorious club owner. A name like Lucifer Morningstar. A former B-list-actress famous for a topless scene. The story had it all.

The District Attorney decided to make an example of her. She didn't blame him. How could he not with that press? In an election year? And, of course, she deserved it. He asked for the death penalty.

But Chloe, you were my friend.

She told her lawyer she would plead guilty. He argued that she should at least exchange her plea for taking the death penalty off the table. She refused.

Dan tried to have her determined incompetent to stand trial. Of course, she passed the psychiatric evaluations.

Because she contested nothing, her time on death row was short.

But Chloe I love you.

Lucifer returned to her cell often over the millennia. Her loops were never quite identical, but they always ended with her betraying him and killing him. Sometime it happened sooner; sometimes it happened later. Sometimes they had years, a whole relationship, before she did it. But always the same end.

And, every so often, he would enter the room, standing in for the Lucifer of the Hell loop, playing the part. He did it because he missed her. Because a part of him wanted to spend time with her even if it wasn't real.

But mostly he did it to remind himself that Hell was where he belonged. That humanity—all those little voices whispering in his ear, telling him he was evil—that they had been right about him. Because if even she could see… If he was such poison that he had dragged someone so special, so good, down with him… Then there truly was something rotten in him. So, yes, he visited her cell to remember. He understood why his Father had put her in his path now.