lucifer drabbles n stuff

its like you're trying to die

basically the scene from 2x06 but chloe comforts lucifer and he actually cries

//

"Go d, Lucifer, it's like you're trying to die!"

Lucifer's eyes dropped from her face the the floor, roaming nervously. Any and all response or fight had suddenly leeches from his body, and left only a sullen, drunk man who was biting his lip. Chloe waited for an answer, some kind of defense or weird, convoluted "I'm-The-Devil" metaphor, but nothing came. The air was only filled by distant police chatter and sirens and the empty room.

"Lucifer." He still didn't look at her. "Lucifer,... seriously." Nothing broke his silence. The heavy weight of her question filled the air and choked them both. Her hands fidgeted, getting impatient and, more secretly, scared.

"Lucifer. Please, answer me. Honestly." Taking a breath, she tried to channel a detective state of mind, the one she went to when questioning a witness who was in shock or sobbing and the Chloe knew that she couldn't connect to closely or she would break down too. She tried.

"Are you... are you suicidal?"

His eyes finally traversed their way up, going over her body but she could tell not sexually, and finally coming into contact with her own gaze. Lucifer opened his mouth, but his jaw tightened and he squeezed his eyes dangerously hard and Chloe could both hear and see his breathing get fast and hard, and Jesus, was he having a panic attack?

She reached out a hand to brush his arm, but the contact made him flinch, a tad more violently than she thought, and he finally looked at her again, and they just stared until he made a small, choked noise and gave a small nod.

Chloe felt a wave of nausea and dread was over her. No way. Not him. Not Lucifer Morningstar, civilian consult and resident police station asshole. Not the man who made sex jokes more often than a 7th grade boy and was irresponsible and reckless and delusional. He was always calm, always planned out his movements, and he was weird but he was just that. He didn't break down or cry or try and kill himself. He didn't.

Chloe snapped out of her denial when she heard sniffling, and was met with a red-eyed Lucifer, shaking and sinking to floor, yet not bridging the small gap between them for support of the physical or emotional kind. So Chloe took it upon herself to bridge it for him.

The hug was not well met at first- he flinched, and his breathing caught and she could hear him panic, but soon it was just sobs and shaking and she slowly sat him on a bench. He cried into her shoulder, holding on for dear life as if Chloe would unravel and fly away- or maybe Lucifer would. But as she rubbed circles on his back- careful, small circles, because she knew he was sensitive about those horrific scars he had- she came to terms with some facts:

1) Lucifer Morningstar is apparently suicidal.
2) When the man cries, the man cries.
3) She and her partner have along-awaited talk to talk.

But now was not the time for those. She has to comfort the giant, strong, yet broken and fragile man, who smelled strongly of various alcohol and sex and, more recently, the salty sting of tears. The detective finally understood, though, that when it came to Lucifer and coping, he had a strong "F, see me after class for emergency therapy." Which he was obviously not getting enough of. So one confused, concerned Detective Decker would have to do for now.