Closing the front door behind her, Chloe Decker walked towards the kitchen counter, where Trixie had already bolted as soon as her feet crossed the threshold. The young girl was already hauling herself into a chair behind the peninsula as her backpack dropped to the ground, as eager as ever for her after-school snack, which Chloe had taken the time to prepare the night before. Even with as much time as she spent at the office, she knew that the small rituals she shared with her daughter would be more important in her memories than any one case she devoted herself to working.

She slipped out of her heels and into the slippers that sat by the door, but even the house shoes made hollow sounds with each step she took. In fact, the detective swore that the sound was almost hollow, mirroring the gaping hole that Lucifer's absence had left in her heart. Despite the efforts that she had made to put on a smile for her daughter, and for everyone else in her life, she was painfully aware of how obvious it was that she was hurting. To Trixie's credit, the young girl had been her usual bubbly self, though Chloe suspected she was doling out hugs in a more generous ratio than usual.

Trying to blink away the exhaustion from her eyes, Chloe opened the doors of the fridge, pulling out the sliced fruit and sliding it across the countertop to Trixie's waiting fingers. Just as her daughter was about to snatch up a stray grape, Chloe gave her daughter a stern look.

"Have you washed your hands yet?" The question was all the prompting that Trixie needed to lower herself from the chair and trot over to the kitchen sink, where she turned on the water and reached for the soap. With a small sigh escaping from her lips in masked exasperation, Chloe opened the pantry and took out a box of crackers, her own fingers absentmindedly grabbing a few for herself before placing the box at Trixie's seat.

The plain crackers hardly quelled the pit of hunger in her stomach, the painful gnawing that she had been dulling with almost nothing but coffee for days. Having her heart effectively torn from her chest gave her few remaining incentives to continue with self-care, but Trixie was certainly one of them. As her daughter returned to her chair, drying her hands off on her brightly colored leggings, Chloe pulled a half-hearted smile onto her face. She couldn't help but admire the joy and brightness that seemed to spill from Trixie's seams, even in a time where she was struggling to see anything other than darkness.

"How was school today, monkey? So far you've only talked about what you and Dad did last weekend." She asked this as she slid into the chair beside Trixie, who was already tucking into the small spread that Chloe had readily provided. With her mouth still full, Trixie's eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands together in excitement. It took only another moment for the eager child to swallow and launch into an explanation of her day, with an energy and enthusiasm that Chloe couldn't find in any other soul.

"Today Ms. Robinson let us do class outside, which was so much fun! And Xavier brought in cookies for us all to share before we got to go home. And while I was waiting for you to come get me, I made you a drawing." Before Chloe could even ask to see whatever masterpiece of neon markers and glitter that Trixie had produced this time, the young girl was already grabbing her back off the floor, small hands hunting through a few thin folders for this aforementioned artwork. After a few seconds, Trixie had produced a piece of paper covered in vaguely humanoid scribbles, which Chloe took into her hands as Trixie offered it up to her.

Chloe saw what appeared to be two people standing next to one another, one of them with a golden star on their hip and a light brown crown of hair on their head. Next to this first figure was a taller, more rigidly defined person, drawn in the shaky lines and questionable proportions of any child's art. However, beyond the block of dark black hair upon the blankly smiling face with two dots for eyes, there were what appeared to be two protrusions from either side of the figure's body, and two red triangles sticking out from either side of the circular head.

"Now who is this, Trixie?" Chloe asked, barely choking out the words that threatened to get caught in her throat. With her wounds so raw, there was only one thing that she could see in the strange depiction that Trixie had handed her. Selfishly, she saw herself, standing next to Lucifer with his wings outspread. Of course, there was no way that Trixie could have drawn this with the intention of depicting herself and her former partner. Of the few humans on earth that knew about the true identities of the celestials that walked among them, Chloe was certain that Trixie was not one of them.

"That's you and Lucifer," Trixie said matter-of-factly, reaching her hands into the box to grab another few crackers. It was almost as though her daughter couldn't comprehend the gravity of what she was saying, that she didn't understand how much those words had slammed into Chloe's heart. Chloe could hardly believe that she had heard Trixie right, but her daughter seemed entirely unfazed.

"Why did you draw him like that?" Chloe probed further, trying to blink back the burning she was feeling in her eyes. Her mind was hunting for some sort of explanation outside of Lucifer's outlandish comments eventually falling to Trixie's ears, for why she would draw him with wings as white and as angelic as the ones Chloe had seen with her own two eyes. Even painted poorly in a child's hand, Chloe was called back to the breathtaking wings that she had seen for the first and last time on the balcony of Lucifer's suite.

"Because that's what I'm pretty sure his wings look like. I'm not sure if his horns are supposed to be bigger or not, but I thought they were red," she said plainly, looking over at her mother with a gaze that spoke of someone seeking approval. Chloe swallowed the lump rising in her throat, and swore that she wouldn't cry in front of her daughter, at least not until she got a solid answer as to why in the world Trixie would draw Lucifer as he truly was.

"No, sweetie," she started, putting the drawing flat on the table so she wouldn't have to look at it any longer. "I mean why did you draw him with horns and wings?"

"Because that's what he really looks like," she started, the usual prideful smile on her face. After a split-second, she wrinkled her nose and shrugged. "At least, that's what I think he really looks like. I'm not totally sure. He told me that he wouldn't show me until you said it was okay, but I know he's gone now. I knew that made you sad, so I tried my best to draw it for you, so you aren't as sad until he comes back." The words pierced Chloe's chest, from both the genuine care reflected in her daughter's eyes and the nonchalance with which Trixie spoke of Lucifer's angelic self. Now, she knew there was nothing she could do to stop the tears from welling in her eyes, despite how hard she tried to swallow them.

"How," Chloe stopped, hunting for words. "How did you know?" Trixie shrugged, biting down on her lip. Chloe could see that her daughter was concerned, most likely at her visible distress, but there was nothing Chloe could do to hold back the storm of emotions that she was experiencing.

"Well, one time when you were about to take me home after Dad took me to work, I heard him tell someone that he was the devil. I asked if he really meant it, because he said it all the time, and he said yes, so I asked Maze. She told me it was all true, and that she was a demon too. I wasn't sure about all of that until we went to Rome together, which was really fun. But I can read too, and I read some of the books you had, and so I knew that you knew too. So I thought this would be okay, because this is what Maze told me he looked like with his wings and his face," Trixie rambled, her smile slowly fading as she looked at Chloe with her big, questioning eyes. Chloe could hardly comprehend what her own daughter was saying, and so calmly. From the sea of information that had crashed down on her, she could only think to slide out of her chair and wrap her arms around Trixie, who still seemed relatively nonplussed.

"Are you okay Mom?" Trixie asked, her voice muffled by Chloe's shirt. The first tear finally rolled down Chloe's face, and she wiped at it with her shoulder so that Trixie wouldn't see it when she pulled away.

"Yeah sweetie, I'm okay. Why didn't you tell me earlier? Weren't you afraid?" Those questions barely scratched the surface of her endless well of questions that she had for her daughter, her innocent daughter who hadn't flinched at the thought of a demon giving her hugs and the devil himself spending time with her mother. She couldn't even tell if Trixie had even grasped the gravity of her own assumptions, or if she truly believed her own words.

"No, I wasn't afraid" Trixie said as Chloe finally pulled away. The detective looked down at her daughter, who was still somehow brimming with light and with hope in a world that was so dark and empty.

"Why weren't you afraid?" Chloe asked, her arms still firmly on her daughter's shoulders. "Why didn't you come talk to me?" She was living back in those moments where she saw Lucifer's true face, the grotesque wings protruding from his shoulders, the craters in his gnarled skin. Even without seeing those images, an understanding of Lucifer's true identity was traumatizing. The thought that her young daughter had merely internalized the information without so much as talking to her only increased the rolling storms in her gut.

"Because," Trixie said, finally shrugging off Chloe's hands and moving back to her snack. "I know that you've always cared about Lucifer, and that he's always been nice to you and dad. And he's always been nice to me. So it doesn't matter who he is."

Waves of guilt crashed over Chloe, and she felt the threat of tears rising up again. She tried to reason that Trixie somehow didn't understand the true gravity of the situation, that she was just too young to understand the breadth of evil that had shrouded the devil's image throughout all of history. But the wisdom in Trixie's words, her blind acceptance based on character rather than rumor, told Chloe that her daughter was more incredible than she had ever realized. When confronted with the truth about Lucifer, she hadn't hid in fear: she'd still embraced Lucifer for who he was, and had even gone to protect Lucifer from Eve in her own unique way. The truth had never drawn her away from the years of evidence that Lucifer was a kind, if not misguided, soul.

Chloe hunted for some words, any words to fill the space. Trixie was placing the last pieces of fruit from the plate in her mouth, giving her mother glances from the side of her eye. Her breath shaking, Chloe breathed in, running a hand through her hair and under her eyes, as though it were enough to bring her back together. This was the first pain she'd shown to Trixie since Lucifer had gone back to Hell, and it was bleeding through so raw that she was torn between her own personal agony and embarrassment at her own transparency.

"Thank you very much for the drawing, Trix. It's perfect, it looks just like him," Chloe said, doing her best to smile. There were no words that could describe the pride she felt at Trixie's open-armed acceptance of the celestials that had walked among them. Trixie shrugged, sliding out of the chair and looking back up at Chloe with her bright, soulful eyes.

"I just hope he comes back soon. He makes you really happy, and I hate seeing you sad. Besides, I really want to see his wings!" Light as a bird, Trixie sashayed off into her bedroom, likely preparing to engage in the elaborate storyline she'd recently created for her dolls. As soon as Trixie was out of sight, Chloe sat back at the counter, staring at the drawing with its round-faced figures and small red horns.

"I hope he comes back soon too," Chloe whispered to herself, feeling the empty space in her heart where Lucifer belonged.