On reflection, he could admit, it was a bad call in judgement.

It was foolish to act as if he could just waltz back into Hell as though he'd never left. Misguided to assume that the demons would just fall into line, that he held the same power over them as he had done for eons. Arrogant to think that he could quash a full on rebellion alone.

But deluding himself into believing that Hell no longer had power over him? That he had nothing left to feel guilty for? That was the worst mistake of all.

And it wasn't until they threw his broken and bleeding body into a cell, that he realised just how wrong he had been.

…

He could feel the guilt that weighed so heavily upon his soul the instant he saw the door. His door. It had grown like a cancer, infinitesimal at first, so convinced was he that he had done the right thing in leaving. But centuries upon centuries gives a Devil time to think… and to regret. Memories of her grief as he bid her goodbye haunted him, as did the knowledge that he had denied her the one thing she had ever asked him for, the one thing she truly desired.

Please, don't go.

That poisonous black tar of guilt crept through his veins, constantly trying to pull him down, down, down, away from his duty, away from the seat of power from which he reigned over this place. Power he had told himself would keep him safe from the horrors that waited below.

But no throne can be held forever, not even by those able to live that long. The empire he had built was crumbling, and he had fallen right along with it. Just at the point he thought he could fall no further. Had he been in any condition to do so, he might have fought Hell's grip, as he had from the moment he returned. For nothing was more important than ensuring the Earth was safe, that she was safe, not even the punishment he himself deserved.

As he crossed the threshold, his guilt overwhelmed him, Hell easily slipping past any resistance he had left. He could do nothing as it flooded out of him, soaking into the floor, the walls, his prison absorbing the knowledge it would need to twist itself into something from his nightmares. The second his body hit the ground, the obsidian stone that surrounded him vanished, replaced by cool, familiar marble.

When he opened his eyes, it was the penthouse that welcomed him, just as it had before. Just as he had expected. And now, there was only one thing missing.

He braced himself for the sound of the piano.

...

But it never came.

The penthouse remained deathly silent. He lay motionless in a twisted heap upon the floor, his ragged breathing echoing in the emptiness, with no chance of aid or rescue. Perhaps this was to be his punishment, an eternity by himself, the consequence of choosing to leave all those that he loved behind. All those he loved… who could be in danger now, because he had allowed himself to be defeated. After he had failed, yet again. Despite the agony it caused him, he forced himself to turn his head, sobbing out a small sound of relief as he saw the elevator standing there, doors open, his way of escape just waiting for him to walk through.

And yet… he could barely move as it was. Even in his addled state, he knew the moment he stepped outside of those doors, the demons would throw him right back inside. He was their king, a fact he had delighted in reminding them of for eons. They knew perfectly well what he was capable of. He had little doubt there would be multiple guards stationed outside. Even worse, any attempt at escape might lead to further measures in order to subdue him. It would be just his luck for one of his subjects to go and have a bright idea for once in their miserable lives, and use the very chains that had once bound his mother to secure his cell. Gaining his freedom after that would be impossible.

No, it was better he rested. Battling his way out of here would require his full strength, and that something he had little to none of right now. In the meantime, all he had to do was resist whatever Hell had in store for him. If this was it, then loneliness was an easier punishment than he could have hoped for; he was more than used to being abandoned, to being alone. A countless millennia with only demons for company will do that to a Devil. And he had a purpose now, a mission even more important than last time he had been stuck here. But now the goal wasn't to fight to get back to Earth to save one life, but to stay right here in Hell, to save many.

With that aim in mind, he began to move, grabbing onto whatever he could to haul his limp, useless body along the floor, his legs having long since refused to obey his commands. Finally, he was able to drag himself up the stairs to his bedroom, where, through sheer force of will, he managed to maneuver himself onto the bed. Relief consumed him. It was just as he remembered it. The mattress was a comforting embrace for his shattered bones, the satin a soothing caress against his ruined skin. After so many years of no sleep at all, the exhaustion that overtook him was swift and undeniable.

When he closed his eyes though, he felt the bed dip beside him. Instinctively, he froze, waiting for the attack to come, knowing he would be unable to do anything to prevent it. But nothing happened. And on the next breath, he realised why.

The scent of her washed over him, familiar and sweet. The sense of longing he had felt from the second he left her burst into life, and when his eyes fluttered open again, it was as though awakening from a nightmare into a dream. She was here. She was here, and although she couldn't be, although he didn't want her to be, it was true all the same.

Unbidden, his hand rose to cup her face, the last of his reservations fading in the irresistible desire to hold her again. Even in the near darkness of the penthouse, her golden hair and sea green eyes were all he could see, all he cared to see after so long. Her skin was soft and warm against his hand, and he shuddered at the feel of it. When she ran her fingertips gently across the side of his cheek in return, his vision became blurry, the flood of emotions her touch invoked threatening to overwhelm him.

He blinked those tears away, and when he did, he found her leaning over him, the love he had for her reflected back at him in her eyes. Her lips brushed his own, and joy like none he had ever known bubbled up inside him. Greedily, he took all she had to offer him, her kiss like oxygen to a man who had drowned in darkness and ash for too long. When they finally parted, silence settled between them. He was almost afraid to speak, as though the sound of his voice might make her disappear.

But she was there, she was real, and she deserved to know everything he had failed to tell her on Earth. Starting with one simple truth.

"Oh," he sighed, resting his forehead against hers, reveling in being close to her once more. "How I have missed you."

Something shifted inside the room, and suddenly he knew with surety that if he looked towards the elevator now, the doors would be shut. But he didn't care. She was here. Hell opened her arms, and he embraced her willingly.

"I love you," Chloe said, smiling for the first time.

"I love you, and you left me."

The world went black.

…

He's alive.

The overwhelming relief when she read the message was enough that the phone nearly fell from her hands. From the moment Amenadiel and Maze had left, over an hour ago now, she hadn't moved from this spot, her eyes glued to the screen, holding it so tightly she wouldn't have been surprised if the screen started to crack. Her fingers were stiff as she started to make the call, but she paid them no mind, desperate to hear from the only person that mattered right now, the only person that had consumed her mind for months. Lucifer.

Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer.

It had been almost three weeks since they had heard from him. Not that their contact had been great to any extent before that; merely affirmations passed on through prayers to Amenadiel that he was fine and that everything was under control. No well wishes, no details of what exactly was going on down there, and most painfully, no messages for her. She understood why, she really did, but it didn't stop the pain of what felt like rejection.

I was afraid you would forget about me.

She was no fool either. 'Fine' did not mean he was okay, physically or emotionally. Linda had surmised much the same. But what could they do? He was unreachable, untouchable. The one time Amenadiel had tried to visit, he was met with what sounded like a veritable army at the gates. There was nothing she could do but hope it was an army under Lucifer's control. They all knew he was unlikely to tell anyone if it wasn't, not until it was far too late.

And far too late, apparently, had been three weeks ago. Every day from the first time his brother had been unable to reach him had been filled with plans, research, and unanswered pleas for assistance from above. Their first attempt to breach the walls was unsuccessful to the extreme, Maze's claims of wanting to return home dismissed outright. It had taken her a week to recover from her injuries, and still she said her siblings had been lenient in letting her leave. One last act of respect for the lilim that had climbed higher than them all. It was a fealty they all knew she would not be granted again.

Her visit had been the confirmation they needed. Lucifer had either left Hell, something that could have only happened by force, or he was trapped in a cell. Maze had been unable to sense him anywhere, and she knew her brothers and sisters were lying when they claimed their king was safe and well. "Safe," she'd spat. "When did the Lord of Hell ever need to be described as 'safe'?"

And so the plan had been formed. She wasn't privy to the details, both the demon and angel in agreement for once that humans shouldn't be involved. There was nothing she could do, and therefore she didn't need to know. But Linda knew, she could tell. It was obvious from the way she held Charlie so tightly as they prepared to leave, in how Amenadiel kissed his son's forehead before spreading his wings. They both knew there was a strong possibility he wouldn't be coming back. Which meant Lucifer wouldn't be coming back either.

He would be lost to her forever.

It made sense now, how Maze had insisted on taking Trixie out for the day yesterday. She was saying goodbye.

But they were back. They made it back and they were alive.

Lucifer was alive.

And nobody was picking up the damn phone.

Alive told her nothing. Alive wasn't dead, but it didn't mean not dying. It didn't mean severely injured, or worse, injured beyond repair. Could angels be damaged that badly? There was still so much she didn't know, so many questions she hadn't asked, should have asked. And what precious little information she did have, only made things worse.

You make me vulnerable.

"You can't stay," Linda had said, as Amenadiel and Maze prepared to leave. Despite the fear in her eyes, there was sympathy there too. "You know why."

Chloe had never felt so helpless. The drive home was a blur, an endless tornado of worries refusing to leave her ravaged mind.

"It shouldn't be long. Time moves differently in Hell."

How differently, nobody could tell her. Maze had visited Earth twice in the last century, and according to her, she simply hadn't cared how much time had passed in between. "That was always Lucifer's thing," she'd said with a shrug. "He found how much you humans had changed while he was gone fascinating, for some reason. One day you're poking things with sticks, the next you're playing with the wheel. Not that impressive, if you ask me."

Amenadiel didn't know, simply because he had never asked. His task was to return Lucifer to Hell; anything outside of that wasn't his concern. In a way, that was worse. Not only was he responsible for ensuring his brother remained in that dreadful place, but the fact he had apparently never shown the slightest bit of concern about what it was like for Lucifer there…

As far as she was concerned, the shame on his face when he admitted that was more than deserved. At least he was trying to make up for it now though. She only wished the rest of his family would do the same.

Chloe's heart thudded to the beat of the phone as it continued to ring.

Why weren't they answering?

Multiple scenarios ran through her head, all of them ending with Lucifer leaving her in some way, again. But this time, with no chance for her to say goodbye. Unable to stop herself any longer, and against her better judgement, she quickly gathered her things, intent on getting to Lux as fast as possible. It was logical to assume they'd taken him straight back there. No matter how bad his injuries, a hospital would be too much of a risk. After all, he wasn't mortal…

...unless she was there.

Defeatedly, she put down her bag again. She was being stupid. What if she went there and just made things worse? She'd never forgive herself. Not after everything it had taken for him to get here again. Back on Earth, where he belonged. Home.

She collapsed onto the sofa, keys still in her hand. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, then back to her phone. Angrily, she disconnected the call, before near throwing the damn thing halfway across the room. The need to do something crawled inside her skin. This was her partner, and she hated having to fight against the instinct that she should be there with him.

And, of course, there was the fact he wasn't entirely just her partner anymore. She wasn't sure what they were now. If it had been longer for him than it had been for her, had his feelings changed? Or worse, had he forgotten her entirely, just like she had feared? For her part, everything was the same. It had been nearly a year, and she still felt as though a vital part of her was missing.

I love you.

It was you, Chloe. It always has been.

They had missed out on their chance to be together so many times. She was determined not to let it happen again.

The sound of her phone ringing blared into the room, Linda's number lighting up the screen. Scrambling across the cushions, Chloe grabbed it, desperately swiping multiple times across the screen to accept the call.

"Is he okay? Are you okay? What's going on?"

She was well aware she was babbling, but she couldn't help it. The last hour and a half had been torture, and she couldn't bear to wait a single second more.

"It's alright, Chloe. He's going to be alright, they all are."

If she thought she had felt relieved before, it was nothing compared to the feeling of a lead weight being removed from her chest, a weight she hadn't really been fully aware of until now. It wasn't even until she went to brush the hair back from her face that she realised she was crying. "How bad is it?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice steady as she fought to wrestle her emotions back under some semblance of control.

"He'll be fine, that's all you need to focus on right now," Linda said kindly, and Chloe could hear the same kind of relief there that she was currently feeling.

"When can I see him?" she asked, unsure if her friend would actually be able to give her an answer, but hoping by some miracle that she could. She needed to see him, wouldn't be able to rest until she saw him with her own eyes.

"Now, if you'd like. He's sleeping, but I'm sure he would want you to be here when he wakes up." There was a pause, and Linda must have picked up on Chloe's confusion, for she then continued with, "Amenadiel says his injuries are celestial in nature. You won't make anything worse by being here."

Despite her anxiety, a small smile started to grow on Chloe's face as she picked up her keys again.

"I'm on my way."

…

Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't this. Lucifer was almost unrecognisable, every inch of his body not hidden by bandages littered in scars, swelling, and bruises. She didn't need to be trained in forensics to see the burns, the gashes, the discolouration around his throat when he had obviously been strangled with something. Repeatedly, judging by the markings. There was even what looked like bullet wounds marring his once perfect skin.

"Chloe."

The voice in her ear and a hand on her shoulder snapped her back into the room. Linda stood there, stoic as always, but even she was unable to completely hide the concern upon her face. Her gaze kept sliding to Lucifer, eyes shining with unshed tears. "He'll heal, Chloe. Amenadiel says it might take a while, but there's very little a celestial can't heal, given time."

"Where is Amenadiel, anyway?" she replied absentmindedly, unable to tear her eyes away from the bed. The urge to crawl in beside him, to hold him, was strong, but the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him any more than he already was.

"Maze is patching him up."

Chloe turned to her at that, finally taking in the smudges of blood across Linda's face and hands. She had been so desperate to see Lucifer when she arrived that she'd barely noticed anything other than his prone body, a lone white figure on black silk sheets. Sheets that did very little to hide the amount of blood that had soaked through them.

"He got hurt?" The second the question left her mouth, she realised just how stupid it sounded. Lucifer's rescuers had headed into Hell expecting to die; it was inevitable that success would come alongside injury.

Linda didn't judge though, simply giving her an understanding smile. "It's nothing to worry about. Just a few broken bones, he'll be back to normal in no time. Lucifer gave him quite a run for his money."

Eyebrows furrowed, Chloe looked back towards the broken body lying on the bed. "Lucifer… fought him?" she asked, confused. "Why?"

"I think it's best I let Amenadiel explain." Linda placed a hand on Chloe's arm, giving it a gentle tug. "Come on, let's get you a drink. He won't be waking up anytime soon."

The penthouse was darker than she remembered it, without the fires that were lit almost constantly to help keep the shadows at bay. She had visited once and once only since Lucifer left, and even that was due to Maze's insistence. Together they had recreated an image that in her past had haunted her, covering the furniture in white cotton sheets, packing away his most prized possessions.

"Someone will be by to pick them up tomorrow. He has storage for that kind of thing, between visits. I… I'm not sure what to tell them to do with it now."

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Maze was just as lost without him as she was, although she would never admit it. After all, he'd left her behind too.

Linda had tried to encourage Chloe to come back, to take comfort in the memories the two of them had shared here. But she couldn't. The station was painful enough, the empty chair beside her desk always within her line of sight, taunting her with its vacantness. To be here, surrounded by reminders of everything that he was, it hurt too much.

Some of the sheets had been moved already, but it was the piano she made a beeline for now, a cloud of dust swirling into the air as she removed the cover. She wanted it to be one of the first things he could see when he woke up.

Other than her, that is.

Maze and Amenadiel sat at the bar, the latter's arm tied up loosely in a makeshift sling. Both were battle worn; Maze's usual leather attire torn to pieces, Amenadiel's robe damaged beyond repair. The angel looked weary, but Maze was triumphant, greeting Chloe with a wide smile and bloodstained teeth. "What?" she said, "No 'congratulations'? No 'hail the conquering heroes'? You disappoint me, Decker."

Chloe gave her a weak smile. "Well done, both of you. Thank you for bringing him home to me."

Now the demon just looked uncomfortable. "It wasn't just for you," she said, shifting awkwardly on the seat. After a beat, she slid from the bar stool to the floor, punching Amenadiel—in a way she would probably consider to be lightly—in the shoulder as she passed. "This idiot wanted him back too." She paused on her way towards the living area. "And besides, I still owe him an ass kicking for going without me in the first place."

With that, she flopped down onto the sofa, pulling out her knives from who knows where and beginning to clean them off against the cushions. Chloe suppressed a smile before facing Amenadiel, imagining Lucifer's outrage at his Italian leather being treated in such a way. As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't wait to hear the sound of him complaining again.

It was funny, the things she didn't realise she would miss.

"How was it down there?" she said to Amenadiel, who was still mid-wince, rubbing the spot on his shoulder where Maze's fist had connected.

He sighed as he reached for what oddly looked like a cosmo, pausing for a few seconds before taking a long sip. "Easier than I expected… but not without its difficulties," he replied, glancing over at the bedroom.

"Linda said the two of you fought."

He nodded. "Getting into Hell was the easy part. Convincing my brother to leave? That took some… persuasion."

Something clicked in her head as she put two and two together. Her eyes narrowed. "You did all that?" she asked carefully, thinking of Lucifer's injuries. She tried to keep her tone neutral, but with the anger welling up inside her, she made a miserable job of it.

"Not all of it," he said, shaking his head. "Very little, in fact. I am the reason he's currently unconscious though." Sorrow coloured his voice. "I tried. But he wouldn't listen to reason."

"Not when he had a reason to stay," Maze said pointedly from behind them, idly spinning one of her knives in her hand. At some point, Linda must have sat down beside her, and Chloe watched as she wrapped a hand around Maze's wrist, stilling her movements.

"Maze—" she said, a warning in her voice, and got an eye roll in return for her trouble.

"What? It's not as if he won't tell her eventually anyway."

Linda let go, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. Then, somewhat reluctantly, she nodded. "You're right. But we should at least give him the chance to."

"The chance to tell me what?" Chloe demanded, quite frankly feeling fed up of being left out of the loop at this point. What was the point of being a celestial insider if you weren't actually let in on anything? "If it's why Lucifer didn't want to come back, just say it. I'm a big girl, I can take it. If he still needs to protect us… I'll understand."

Understand, just like she did before. After all the crying, screaming, and cursing, aimed at God and every angel she could think of, for the unjustness of it all. And at Lucifer too, for leaving. Leaving just as they were finally, finally, on the same page. Leaving without even giving them a chance to figure out another way for him to stay.

But that was Lucifer. That was the man she loved, a man who always jumped in head first without any thought for himself, especially if it meant saving her from harm. He'd given up his life on Earth for her. Given up a life with her. That anger had soon died away, leaving her only with a hole in her heart that she knew nobody else could ever fill.

But now he was back, and that life together glimmered in the distance, with only the threat of him having to leave again hanging over their heads.

She heard the clink of glass against the bar top as Amenadiel set down his drink. "No, Chloe," he said, leaning forward to take her hand. "That's not it. Lucifer, he…" Amenadiel turned his head towards where his brother lay, a smile upon his face could only be described as… proud. "I don't know how he did it, but he made a barrier. Only those with a soul can cross. The demons are trapped down there, Father willing, forever. You're safe now. We all are, thanks to him."

"Then why…" she swallowed heavily, a tight knot in her chest she couldn't seem to shift. She should be relieved beyond belief, grateful for the knowledge that everyone she knew and loved was no longer in danger, but all she could think about was one question… a question she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to. "Then why didn't he leave? Why didn't he come home?"

Why didn't he come back to me?

"I don't know," Amenadiel said with a shake of his head. "Maybe he needed to make sure it wouldn't fail…"

The sound of leather ripping cut into the air. "Or maybe," Maze said, as she idly dragged the tip of her blade along the seat cushion, "he just got careless, and the barrier was the last straw."

"You mean they captured him before he could escape." The demon nodded, before burying her knife hilt deep. A sudden thought occurred to Chloe. "But if demons couldn't get through, then how…?"

Linda coughed, eyes widening and head shaking slightly as Amenadiel said hurriedly, "We think Lucifer must have made an exception for Maze somehow."

Maze glowered, and snatched her blade back out of the sofa. "Exactly. It has to be that. And it's certainly nothing to do with souls," she snapped, directing that last part at Linda as she stood. With a huff, she pushed past Amenadiel to snatch up a bottle of vodka from the bar, one of the last few remaining that she hadn't pilfered already, before promptly storming off into Lucifer's bedroom.

Amenadiel shrugged. "Linda has a theory."

Though her interest was peaked, whatever that theory was, Chloe really didn't want to get into it at the moment. Not when there were more important things to deal with. "How long before he wakes, do you think?" she asked, steering the conversation back to Lucifer.

A distant cry echoed from one of the back rooms of the penthouse. Linda stood, picking up a nearby bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. "You two talk," she said, "I'll go and check on him."

"Let me know if you need any help," Amenadiel replied, and Linda smiled fondly at him. Chloe's heart warmed; it had taken a while for the two of them to come back together after all that had happened, but despite their issues, they were as much of a co-parenting team now as she and Dan had become.

"Things seem to be going well," she said lightly, noting that the look on the angel's face as he watched Linda leave betrayed an affection far deeper than the friendship they had settled into. Of course, much like the other celestial in the room, he took completely the wrong meaning from her words.

"They are," he said with a grin. "He's a good boy. A strong boy. Just like his uncle." At the mention of his brother, he stood, silently motioning for Chloe to follow him as he walked over to the bedroom. Lucifer hadn't moved since she arrived, but the rise and fall of his chest was comforting. He wasn't the only one asleep either, exhaustion clearly having overtaken Maze the moment she sat down again, the still full bottle of vodka resting precariously in her hand.

As quietly as she could, Chloe tiptoed across the room, gently removing the bottle and placing it safely on the floor. It was a testament to just how drained she was that the demon only stirred slightly, grumbling in her sleep; usually Maze would complain about being woken up if Chloe so much as breathed too loudly in the vicinity of her room. She'd once explained to her that sleep was hard to come by in Hell. Training yourself to wake at the slightest hint of attack was essential. Sleep like the dead, and you soon would be. It was as simple as that.

Lucifer wasn't like that though, not in Chloe's experience, not anymore at least. Like most things, sleep was something he luxuriated in. Making up for lost time, she supposed. Right now however, she would give anything for him to wake up.

Amenadiel approached the bed, softly laying a hand on his brother's forehead. "He'll be asleep for another day, two at most," he said. "With you here, it should be easier to manage the pain. Linda tells me he's more susceptible to narcotics with you near."

A situation she remained shocked to this day he hadn't taken more advantage of. But still, there was just one problem with that… "I can't stay, Amenadiel, as much as I want to. Dan is dropping Trixie off tonight." Then, an idea hit her. "Do you think… could he come home with me? Can we move him?"

Amenadiel frowned, but something must have shown on her face, for after a long hard look at Lucifer, he nodded. "I can't see why not. A change in location shouldn't do him any harm; he's in better shape than when I carried him here."

"Like a baby," Maze mumbled, shifting in her chair. "Should've taken a photo." Slowly, she opened one eye to glare at them. "Can you guys shut the hell up? Demon tryin' to sleep over here."

Amenadiel chuckled to himself, and the two of them made their way back into the living room as silently as they could, leaving both the demon and Devil to their slumber. Linda returned at the same time, a wide awake Charlie bouncing in her arms. "Everything okay?" she asked, shifting the squirming toddler from side to side as he giggled and reached for his daddy.

"As okay as it can be," Chloe answered, "given the circumstances." She smiled at the sight of Amenadiel lifting his son, the once solemn warrior an entirely different man to the one she had first been introduced to. He grinned as he spun the laughing child in the air, an imitation of the wings he might one day have. "I need to head home soon, but —"

"I'll fly Lucifer over as soon as we're finished up here," Amenadiel finished for her, hoisting Charlie up and around his shoulders.

Chloe cast one last longing look towards the bed before picking up her bag. Soon, she consoled herself. Soon, he'll be home, and we can move forward. Together.

"I'll look after him," she promised, both to herself and to Amenadiel. Linda came to stand beside him, the two of them the perfect symbol of the mismatched family they had managed to become during Lucifer's absence.

"We know you will," Linda said with a smile. "Just let me know when he's up for visitors, and I'll be right over." Chloe nodded, and turned to head towards the elevator. Before she could take another step though, Linda caught her by the arm, a seriousness in her eyes now. "At any time, okay? You can call me if you need me."

If he needs me. The subtext was clear. Because he would need her, they both knew that. The Devil that had left Los Angeles was a very different Devil to the one who had previously ruled Hell, and she hated to think of what had happened to the Lucifer she knew down there. But no matter what, she was determined to be there for him.

They all were.

…

In the end, it was three days before Lucifer fully awoke. His injuries had been healing faster than those of a human, it was true, but the amount of medication needed to keep his pain at a manageable level meant that on the rare occasion he did open his eyes, he was far from lucid.

The morning of the third day though? That was different. She opened her eyes to find deep brown ones staring back into her own, clear and focused. The apartment was quiet, so quiet that all she could hear was the sound of his heartbeat, and the breath that hitched in his lungs as she smiled up at him. He cupped her face, and she stroked his cheek in return, marvelling at the way he trembled under her fingertips.

"Hello stranger," she said softly, before pressing forward, capturing his lips with her own. For a second, she wondered if it was the right decision to make, but before she could move away, he returned the kiss with gusto, hungrily claiming what they had both been afraid to take for so long. It was only when he shuddered with something other than pleasure that they began to slow, eventually coming to a stop. But even then they remained only a hair's breadth apart, neither willing to let the other go quite yet.

She wasn't sure she would ever let him go again.

"Lucifer," she sighed, gently guiding his forehead down to hers. "You're here. You're home. You're safe."

He melted into her, one hand buried in her hair, the other still holding the side of her face. When he pulled her closer, she felt him smile against the side of her neck. His lips grazed her ear, and for a moment, everything was perfect as the voice she had so longed to hear whispered…

"Oh, how I have missed you."