Notes: Okay, NOW I'm done writing Lucifer for a while. All further plot bunnies will be steadfastly ignored.
Hadestown influenced this one, and you'd think Lucifer would map to Hades and thus Chloe is Persephone by default, but I can't help it, I'm seeing some Orpheus/Eurydice in there too. That's where the title comes from. There's also a reference to my favorite of the Greek mythological couples, Cupid/Psyche.
Chloe passes out; she thinks it’s just for a few seconds, but when she wakes, everything has changed.
She’s cradled in Amenadiel’s arms, and no part of her is in pain anymore. She blinks and rubs her eyes as he sets her down lightly on her feet. There’s a blue sky overhead, lush grass underfoot. The air smells sweet and calming.
“Thank you,” she says to Amenadiel, understanding that he went out of his way so that she could go through this with a friend at her side.
He nods. She registers his grave expression before looking at his wings, and then at those dignified angelic robes he’s wearing, and only then does she notice the gates behind him, so high they vanish into the clouds. They’re silver.
“It was sudden,” Amenadiel admits. “I’m sorry that we couldn’t save you.”
Chloe is too lost in thought to answer. Lucifer wasn’t at her side when it happened, and that will tear him up once he finds out. She wishes they had talked about this more while she was alive, but even if they had, she doesn’t see anything they could have done about it. He’s barred from Heaven, and if she had damned her own soul to Hell just to be with him it would have tormented both of them for eternity.
She looks up at the gates. “I don’t have to go in, do I?”
“No. Nobody is forced to enter the Silver City.”
“Where can I go instead?”
Amenadiel gestures at the endless meadow. “You can stay out here. You won’t feel any discomfort and you won’t get tired unless you want to be, but there’s nothing to see or do, and…” He hesitates, then goes on. “The only purpose of this place is for souls to have somewhere to arrive before they enter Heaven. For as long as it’s existed, nobody can get here except for angels and the righteous dead, and those just pass through.
“But there’s been a conflict brewing for a long time, and with you dead, I don’t know what Lucifer will do. If there’s a war, it might mean changes for things that have never changed before. I’m sure he would feel better knowing you were safe on the other side of the gates.”
Nearby there’s a colorful blanket spread on the grass, which Chloe thinks she might have unwittingly conjured for herself. It seems like invitation enough to sit down there, so she does. “I’ll stay on this side,” she says to Amenadiel, who has followed, rustling his wings like an agitated bird of prey. “Is there anything else I should know?”
He crouches down to her level, smiling sadly. “Just that your father has missed you.”
The thought is painful, enough to trigger a flash of resentment toward Amenadiel for using it to sway her, but she only shakes her head. “Tell him I’m sorry, if you can. Tell him I love him.”
“I may not be able to come back to check on you,” the angel replies. “Not often, anyway. Are you really sure you want to do this, Chloe?”
After he leaves, she feels lonely, but it’s tolerable. As he said, she never gets uncomfortable even sitting indefinitely in the same position. From time to time she moves around anyway, but not because she’s restless, or even bored. The pervading sense of tranquility that she felt when she first arrived has lasted, and now she knows it’s enough to let her see this through.
It’s a while before she notices that her clothing has changed. To get a better look, she creates a reflective pool in the same way that she made the blanket, and it shows her that the flowing, backless dress she’s wearing isn’t the only difference from the way she appeared on Earth. Her eyes seem brighter. Every blemish is gone from her skin. And she has wings.
They’re not like Lucifer’s, or any other angel she’s seen. They’re butterfly wings, delicate and graceful, shimmering in gold and rose and lavender. Her reflection is smiling. She doesn’t know if she can fly, but she likes this new feature on herself. She hopes Lucifer likes it too.
There’s no way to tell if it’s been five minutes or ten years when her solitude ends. He comes from the sky, appearing as a tiny dark point but quickly resolving into a winged figure who soars down and lands a stone’s throw from the gates.
Chloe stands. Her supernaturally infused patience has fled, along with the serenity. Lucifer is dressed in nothing but a black pair of slacks. His hair is unkempt and his wings are ragged, and she thinks she can see a trickle of blood on his forehead before he wipes it off with the back of his hand.
She wants to take care of him, to convince him that everything is going to be okay, even though out of the two of them she’s not the one who has those answers. She hurries toward him and he runs to meet her, and she has only a moment to see the agony in his expression before he’s clutching her tightly and her face is buried in his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispers in her ear. “I should have…”
“It’s not your fault,” she tells him, and she knows that it’s true, and also that he’ll never believe it, so she changes his focus. “What do we do now?”
He pulls back enough to look her in the eye. “You’ll go through the gates, of course. I only needed to see you one more time.” His fingers caress a lock of her hair, and his gaze slides appreciatively over her wings. “Thank you for waiting for me.”
“Amenadiel said I didn’t have to enter if I didn’t want to. Why can’t we stay here? I have magic powers now. I could make us a home…”
She steps back intending to demonstrate, but before she can even think of something to create, he takes both of her hands in his, smiling and shaking his head. “You may be able to do that on your own, but with me you’re not safe here. Too many of my siblings might take the opportunity to destroy whatever happiness we found.”
Desperation is hovering at the edge of her consciousness. “I’m not going in without you.”
“Chloe. My love. There’s no other option.”
“If I deserve Heaven then I deserve to have my soulmate with me. Let’s see what your siblings have to say about that.” She gives him her best defiant look. “I’ll take it up with God, too.”
He loves hearing that, she can tell, but he still won’t budge. “I can’t go in there.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Once the challenge has been dropped, something about his demeanor changes. His hands tighten their grip on hers, and he closes his eyes for a moment, taking slow and heavy breaths. There’s no mistaking it: He’s afraid, and he has to put all his strength into forcing out a confession to answer her. “I’ve never tried.”
Before she speaks, she concentrates on his signs of fatigue and trauma, willing them to vanish, and to her excitement, it seems to be working. Within a few seconds, every feather of his wings is pristine again, and his body appears clean and healthy. She can’t seem to give him a shirt, but maybe that’s because nothing that she pictures him wearing seems right for this environment.
He stands up straighter, rolling his shoulders, and raises an eyebrow. “What did you just do?”
“Healed you, I think. Do you feel okay?”
Chloe beams; Lucifer might not realize it, but she’s just proven that the power she wields as one who belongs in Heaven can affect him. Surely that’s all they need. “Ready?” she asks.
“Ready to do what?”
She gestures at the gates. “To knock.”
Read it on Ao3.