Chapter Text
April, 2022.
It takes a few thousand years before the idea of what might be an opening in the time loop conditions comes to Lucifer’s mind.
Centuries of healing the damned while loving his family from afar, and he's missed them every second of it.
Making this particular promise had been the hardest thing he's ever had to do. Now that he has this to compare in retrospect, breaking his deal with Caim to protect the Detective's life hadn't been difficult in the slightest. Contradicting that specific part of his identity had oddly been the easiest choice he’s ever made.
This, on the other hand, is definitely the most agonizing one. The irony is not lost to him; the fact that he had to leave like his own Father because Rory was selfless enough to sacrifice her childhood with Lucifer so she could help him find his path. It'd ultimately been her choice for him to respect; her right to exercise the free will he'd once fought so hard for.
What a bitter circle life is.
Knowing it was the right thing to do doesn't make it any less painful. He's not unhappy—successfully helping lost souls find their way to Heaven is a rather satisfying calling; he even pops up there himself to occasionally pull pranks on Dan, play the piano with Father Frank and have a chat with Charlotte and Amenadiel—but there's this constant aching that leaves a sour taste in his mouth.
I'll be with you always.
The memory of her is his sweetest companion; the softness of her lips spreading tender kisses all over his face is imprinted on his skin; a phantom limb that is now more a part of him than his own hands. To sit on that throne now isn't half as lonely as once had been, not when the remembrance of her presence is intact in his thoughts.
To think of Chloe having to raise their daughter without him is a punch to his gut; his stomach is constantly tied in a knot and he can't help the self-consciousness he feels.
You've done it so many times before. Every time we've had an emotional breakthrough, you've immediately gone off and disappeared.
Rationally, he knows this biggest-ever disappearing act of his wasn't a choice made by his subconscious as she’d feared; he didn't leave because he was afraid of facing his feelings, but because he faced them. Because loving your child is to respect their choice of journey, even if it means doing the one thing you could've never imagined yourself doing. And he knows that Chloe understands that as much as he does because letting him go was her choice too, but he still feels for her.
It's not pity. No, he doesn’t think raising two girls without a father is a punishment, and if anyone has the strength to do so, it’s certainly Chloe Decker, the love of his life. It's more of a nonconformity of sorts. Because even when he let her down—more times than he should’ve—she was nothing but wonderful to him. She’s always been so perfect, and the fact that she gave up her mortal years with him for the sake of their daughter only makes him admire her more. Bloody hell, she didn't deserve any of it.
Still, he keeps his promise, ultimately respecting her choice and finding comfort in the idea that they’ll see each other again. That’s the beauty of eternity—the end is never actually the end.
This is just a blip in their existence, so he waits.
It's when Amenadiel delivers the news that he thinks of it for the first time.
“Rory will be born today,” his brother announces. Lucifer was sitting on his throne—even Hell's Healer deserves a break now and then—reminiscing about his last kiss with Chloe for the millionth time when his brother materialized in front of him. There was no white light, no flap of wings; he wasn't there and then he was. Perks of being Amenagod, apparently. “Thought you deserved to know.”
Lucifer had asked him about Chloe and their friends every time he visited Heaven and the few times his brother paid him a visit down here too, but his answers were never more than a simple you have nothing to worry about, Luci. He'd thought the lack of news meant simply that Amenadiel was being enigmatic in that traditional God-ly way. Although to his brother's credit, he’s doing it all in a much less annoying way than their Father had done.
Or maybe it's Lucifer who is a little more patient now.
Either way, the fact that now God himself chose to break the radio-silence to warn Lucifer about his daughter's birth is a surprise that gives him very much to worry about.
“Are they okay?”
His brother lays a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Yes, Luci, they're more than okay. I'm just checking in so you know where they are in time. You know, in a non disruptive way.”
Lucifer allows himself to relax. He would've never guessed only nine months passed on Earth. It should be a relief, actually, knowing that Amenadiel can share important news like this one. It means he didn't miss anything huge.
“Oh, good,” he exhales. “Well then, next time you start there, hm?” His muscles should be untightening by now, his stomach unclenching. So why did it just become worse?
Maybe some past, unevolved version of him wouldn't have understood the very human reasons that might lead someone to feel like there's a fat man sitting on their chest, but now of course he knows why.
Because his child is being born today, and he's not fucking there, that's why. He's spent ages apart from them just to find out she's only now turning into a breathing, eating little human-angel, and that he won't be holding Chloe's hand while she pushes and screams, assuming it won't be a caesarean, which, by the way, he doesn't even know because he's not fucking there.
The thought of missing such an important moment is enough to send him over the edge. “What is this, some kind of torture, eh?” he snaps. “You know as well as I do that I can't be there for them, so if this is some twisted game of yours, it makes you worse than our Fa—” Lucifer trails off when he notices his brother's weird choice of words. “Oh.”
You know, in a non disruptive way. Amenadiel has [never had Lucifer's way with words, but who the hell says that?
“Amenagod, you bloody bastard.”
He wouldn't call it an opening, exactly, since time loops are more like a circle than a horizontal type of line, but maybe he's found the gray area right in the center of it all.
“I can be there, can't I?” he muses, tasting the thought aloud. “As long as Rory doesn't know, the timeline stays undisrupted. Right?”
His brother says nothing, just gives him a fond smile. “You know I can't answer that. I have faith you'll do the right thing, Luci,” he says, and then he's gone.
At first, Lucifer doesn't act on it.
He remembers how much Dan suffered seeing Trixie and not being able to talk to her, and his heart clenches in his chest. Lucifer would technically be able to interact with his newborn baby, but it still is its own kind of torture, being and not being there simultaneously. And it's a dangerous idea too, because what if something goes wrong and the time loop changes for the worse?
Of course he wants nothing more than to see Chloe and be there for her during the birth of their child; it's the very least she deserves. But what if that's not what she wants? He can't be selfish and risk gambling on their futures—or past—like this.
It's when he hears her voice that he changes his mind.
Lucifer.
He knows better than to think he's imagining it; he's used to dreaming of her voice and this is not the same. This is a prayer, and even though no one has ever prayed to him before he's sure this is it, because he knows that she's at her apartment and that her water just broke. He knows it because he feels it, unquestionably and unexplainably.
He needs to be there.
It's not the flying up to Earth bit that takes his breath away, but the sight of Chloe nine months pregnant with their child. From where Lucifer stands, he watches as she stares in wonder at the liquid between her swollen feet on the wooden floor. Her face looks more round, her jawline not as defined as it once was, her breasts are bigger, the blonde hair straighter, and somehow she's never looked more beautiful.
His quiet gasp catches her attention and she looks up at him startled.
“Lucifer,” her voice is a fragile whisper as she takes in the sight of him. “You're here.”
He smiles. “Of course I am, my love.”
Chloe's eyes shine when their gazes lock, and he crosses the distance between them. They both sigh into the hug, their bodies immediately at ease to finally be touching each other again. She doesn't ask him why or how he's here; there's no need to. She knows that consciously or not she's called for him—prayed for him—and all that matters right now is that they're together and she's having their daughter.
He feels her stiffen a little trying to contain a whimper. “Uh, babe? I'm kinda having a contraction right now.”
He steps back, his hand over hers on her giant belly. “Right. Of course you are. Where's the maternity bag? Someone made one for you, right?”
“Yeah, Eve and I had a blast doing it. She's got a way with this stuff. It's over there by the couch,” Chloe waves a hand towards it, reaching for her phone to call Linda.
He grabs everything else they might need while Chloe talks to her (it's time, I'm heading to the Hospital with Lucifer, can you pick Trixie up and bring her there for me? yes, I know, it's incredible but I don't think you two should meet, we still don't know how this will work. yeah, you're right, just let them know it's happening, thank you so much, you're an angel), finds the keys of the Corvette he left for the girls, and helps her out of the house.
From there until the moment he sees Rory, everything is a blur to him. He's spent so long craving more time with her, and now that he has it, it's slipping away too quickly. He feels like in a dream; not yet aware that his mind is actually storing every second, and that he'll be able to recall this day for the rest of eternity.
Lucifer barely believes that he's there driving Chloe to the Hospital, fingers interlocked, wind on their faces, much like that day when the three of them went to the beach. He's there when the assessment begins and they ask endless personal questions and Chloe answers it all while he holds her hands; Yes of course I planned a C-section, I'm in my fucking forties; he's there when she's escorted to a room, when they ask Here Ma'am please change your gown and We'll need a urine sample now. He's there when they put monitors on her belly to see how the baby's heart and the contractions are going, when the trained nurses finally step in to begin the labor process; he's there having to wear sterile garb (horrendous, honestly, offsprings should have the right to first see their parents in elegant sterile clothing even if they won't remember) sitting next to her as they put an IV in her skin and give her the epidural injection. He's there when the catheters and drapes and the short screen are put in place and she looks up at him a little nervously and he kisses her forehead saying I love you, I'm here for you; he's there holding her hand when the doctor finally makes the two small cuts on Chloe, when the amniotic fluid is sucked out—GP, can you please lift the little cutie up for a quick peek—and then when baby Rory finally, finally takes her first breath into this world. He's there, he's there, he's there.
He's there.
Rory's cry is fierce, intense, riotous and already so much like the girl she'll grow up to be that it makes him marvel at how well he knows and loves her.
The doctor offers him to cut the umbilical cord and he does. He can't keep his eyes off his daughter while nurses clean the blood off and wrap her in a green steril blanket before handing her to Chloe first so she can feed the baby while they stitch her back up again.
“Hey you,” she whispers with the most beautiful smile on her face, and settles little Miss loud-crier Rory on her chest so she can suck Chloe's breast.
“What better way to be welcomed into this world, hm?” he quips. Chloe snorts.
His finger finds Rory's hand in the softest of touches and it's so tiny.
She looks so much like him already, with soft dark little curls and a small cupid-bow's mouth, but unlike his rusty brown eyes, hers are a raven blue that will one day darken to black. Time finally seems to give him a break as he drinks in the image of them. He doesn't know how long they stay like this, just staring at each other in delight while the doctors finish the surgery and give him instructions before they are left alone.
“Can I hold her?” he asks once the baby looks done with her breast—impressive, honestly; if he were her he’d never let it go.
She smiles. “Of course, babe.”
Lucifer makes a cradle of his arms and Chloe delicately hands him Rory. He adjusts her clumsily at first—she's so little and fragile—but it soon gets easy. He holds his tiny Aurora in his arms, this small human-angel that he made with Chloe, and there's so much warmth inside his chest that he thinks he could easily light up a new galaxy with the brightest stars to give her if she asked him to.
“Incredible,” he murmurs, entranced.
“Isn't it?” Chloe stretches her arm to brush her fingers over Rory's hair, tracing light patterns down to Lucifer's forearm too.
His voice cracks up when he whispers, lifting his gaze to meet her emotional eyes, “I love you both so much.”
“We love you too, Lucifer.”
A knock on the door. "Miss Decker, you have Beatrice and Amenadiel to see you,” a nurse says.
He looks apprehensively at Chloe. “How’d she take it?”
Chloe considers. “She was… mad after you called her to say goodbye, yes, but it got better when I explained the details to her. She said she’d known it all along, can you believe it?”
“Details?”
“Lucifer, her sister will be a rebellious angel,” she chuckles. “Rory has—will have—red weapon-wings, I mean, Trixie was going to find things out eventually.”
Still by the door, the nurse clears her throat and looks at them as if they were insane. “Are you feeling alright, Miss Decker? Can I send them in?”
“Right,” he exhales. “Yes, I suppose you're right. Should I give the three of you some time alone now…?”
Chloe reaches for his hand, shaking her head. “No, you don't have to leave yet, do you?”
His heart clenches.
“Yes, you can let them in,” he tells the nurse without taking his eyes off of Chloe's, giving her a reassuring smile.
“...Lucifer?”
He turns to find Trixie staring at him in disbelief. “Oh hello, little urchin.”
“Shouldn't you be, you know...” down there, she mouths, gesturing her finger towards the ground. The nurse throws her hands up and closes the door behind Amenadiel, leaving them alone.
“I—” Trixie hugs his waist and he sighs in relief. “Not for now, no, but, as much as I love the attention, little Aurora here should have the spotlight for the moment, don't you think?”
“Yeah, duh,” Trixie perks up, coming closer to the bed to fuss around the baby. “But just so you know, I have a thousand questions about time travel!”
He talks with his brother down the hall.
They've stepped out of Chloe's room to give her and the girls some space when Amenadiel pulls Lucifer into a hug and tells how proud he is of his little brother. He smiles, thanks Amenadiel for everything he's done for Chloe, and hugs him back. Lucifer's mind is put at ease when he learns he still has the next day with Chloe to accompany her postpartum in the Hospital. Their friends and family have their hands full organizing the perfect Welcome Party to Rory, so they'll have this little gap in time to be together.
He leaves with the promise of coming back with Trixie tomorrow and Lucifer thanks him once again.
Lucifer makes a quick stop by the vending machine to grab some Cool Ranch Puffs—he’s not quite sure when the habit of keeping money inside all of his suit pieces began, but he’s glad Hell maintained it intact—and enters back in the room to find a heavy-eyed Chloe on the bed with a sleeping Aurora in her arms.
It's an image he'll recall countless times.
He sits on the stuffed armchair next to his girls. “Want some? It can't be worse than whatever it is they serve here. Have they even given you anything to eat?”
“Yeah, they brought dinner minutes ago,” she laughs. Hell, how he's missed the sound of her laugh. “You know, it wasn't even bad.”
“Well, that’s the least we could expect from a high-quality place like this,” he huffs. “Please tell me you're putting to good use the money I left for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You do know I have a well paying job, right?” He gives her a look and she sighs. “But yes, I am. I can't believe you left such fat trust funds for the girls, by the way. You didn't need to.”
“Oh I know,” he sneers. “But I wanted to make up for all the Prada I won't be giving them. And,” he adds when she arches a brow, “A little extra for college, of course. Now what you need to do,” he continues after finishing the snack and washing his hands on the faucet by the corner of the room, “is to get some rest. Come on, give me Rory so you can sleep. I'm sure you must be exhausted.”
“But I want to enjoy it while you're here,” Chloe argues softly, brows going up together. She's so adorable it makes his heart leap in his chest. He puts a strand of her tangled hair behind her ears, letting his hand linger on her cheek.
“I'll be here when you wake up, my darling. I promise, ok?”
She nods, holding back a yawn. “Ok,” she yields, and he kisses her forehead before she carefully gives him Rory. He sits again, holds his baby tight against his chest with one arm and his other hand finds Chloe's. “Love you, Lucifer,” she mumbles before sleep washes over her, “I'm glad you're here.”
It's when Chloe wakes up that he decides to share the idea with his partner.
“Look who's back,” he smiles at her.
“Good...” Chloe looks around, rubbing sleep off her eyes and trying to situate herself in the darkness of the room. “Middle of the night?”
“Dawn is about to break, actually,” Lucifer tells her. “Not our tiny one, that is,” he grins to Aurora sleeping in his arms. “She's just calmed down. Almost woke the entire Hospital, but I got it covered.”
Chloe looks like she's about to burst into tears. Her hands are cupping her mouth and those beautiful blue eyes reflect the whirlwind of emotions he knows she's feeling, because he knows she’s thinking the same as him: they won't have this.
He spent such a huge part of his existence loathing the very idea of this—loving someone, having a child—and now it's what he most desires, but can't have.
Lucifer clears his throat. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, I think we do,” she sits up straighter on the bed.
“Remember my last night on Earth, when we were at Lux…” he trails off, voice faltering. She nods, and he holds her hand. “And we agreed you would be the one to walk away so I wouldn't leave you once again?”
Chloe swallows and nods again. The memory is still so fresh and gut-wrenching to him; he's sure it's even worse for her. She'd spent hours kissing him tenderly by the piano, making sure the sensation of her lips and body against his would linger on him. When the time to let go finally came, they'd both agreed it was best if it was her walking out of Lux so she wouldn't have yet another memory of him leaving her. She'd then gone back to her apartment and he'd stayed to take care of his last pending matters.
“I've been thinking,” he continues. “Chloe, my love, I have left you, so many times. And because I was this immature, immortal creature,” he chuckles sadly and she puckers her lips, brows soft and understanding, “I have hurt you, and yet you've always had so much faith in me. I never quite understood why or how, but of course you do. That's what love is, isn't it?”
“Yeah,” she inclines her upper body to be closer to his, careful with the stitches on her lower belly. “Yeah, it is, Lucifer. If this is some kind of apology, you don't have to—”
“It's not an apology. I fear you're too good to listen to one,” he squeezes her hand fondly. “You would simply accept and be done with it, but, well, that just won't do. Because now… Now—You prayed for me yesterday, Chloe. What bigger act of faith—of love—could possibly exist? Birthing our child? Giving up your mortal years with me so our daughter could help me find my calling? You've done everything.”
“Lucifer…”
“Chloe.” He inhales and holds her gaze. “You are the most selfless person I have ever met. I've told you, I'd do anything for you, so if I… If all I can offer you for now are borrowed chunks of time like this one, I assure you that I'll do everything in my power to give them to you.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you ever wish to see me, I’ll be just one prayer away. I know,” he gestures, rushing to explain, “I promised our daughter I wouldn't change a thing, and I won’t. My word will remain true as long as the time loop is kept intact. Now, we would have to be extremely careful, of course, but I believe we could do it.”
Chloe stays in silence for a moment, and he catches a glimpse of the Detective analysing ways of how this could possibly work for them. While she thinks, he observes her and watches as the first rays of daylight enter through the window.
Aurora awakes with the sun, crying in Lucifer's arms and startling them both. Assuming she must be hungry, Chloe motions for him to give the baby to her and he does. When Rory has happily tucked her mom's breast inside her mouth, Chloe verbalizes her thoughts.
“So, we would need rules, right? Like, for one, the fewer people seeing you the better, since we need to lessen the chances of your interactions affecting their decisions thus altering everything that happens after… And I can't meet you on purpose, since that would imply me altering one decision in order to see you, which would also end up changing the future somehow.”
His clever Detective.
“Exactly,” he beams.
“So that leaves us with... a minuscule number of occasions?”
“Such as gaps like this one, obviously. You didn't choose to give birth today—it was something that was already in motion because months ago we both decided to have sex. Several lovely choices, may I add,” he snickers and she snorts. “In any case, giving birth was an inevitable occurrence. It was fated to happen because of a previous choice, so if we can find intersections just like this one—in which my presence doesn't affect Rory's life—we won't be altering the future!”
She studies his face, thinking again.
“Babe, if this is all because you think you somehow still need to redeem yourself to me, you don't,” Chloe says softly and reaches for his hand. “You've made the biggest and most selfless sacrifice too; you've put our daughter’s wish above what you most desired.”
“You see, that's the thing, Chloe, this isn't about me at all,” he smiles fondly. “This is about you. It's about me offering all that I'm capable of giving you and our daughter. That is, if you'll have it, of course. You don't have to accept it.”
“Are you kidding? Of course I want this, I want all that I can have of you,” she tells him. “I’m just afraid of somehow letting Rory down.”
Aurora shifts in her arms.
“Let’s make a deal then, shall we?”
“What deal?”
“I pop up here another four times, but only when you pray for me.”
Chloe frowns. “...Pray? Is that what I did?”
“Yes it was,” he grins. “And I can’t wait to hear how you managed to be the first person to ever pray to the Devil, but first… Do we have a deal?”
She analyzes his condition for a second, and he can see the puzzle being put together in her mind. He doesn’t think she’s guessed why he suggested exactly five visits, but Chloe is smart enough to realize that if she’s the one holding unconscious control of his appearances, the risk of changing things is almost zero, since she’ll obviously be aware of whether or not it’s safe.
“But if my praying wasn’t something I chose to do, then how do we know I’ll pray for you another four times?”
“Because now you’re fated to,” he leers. “You see, all the previous events put everything in motion already.”
“Not if I refuse to make the deal,” she notes.
“Yes, but is that what you desire?”
She narrows her eyes, fighting back a smile. “No, it isn’t. Ok then, you win. We've got a deal.” Lucifer grins. “Come here, I want to kiss you.”
“Now how can I say no to that?” he purrs and leans in closer so he can finally, finally, have a taste of her. He's painfully aware of the distance and limitations between them—she's on a Hospital bed, holding Aurora, with stitches on her uterus—but his body immediately responds to her. The softness of her mouth and tongue on his is something he's spent centuries dreaming about, but he's forced to step back when a nurse knocks on the door.
She's bringing Chloe breakfast and he holds Aurora so she can run the last routine exams to check if everything is okay with Chloe's cicatrization. The baby's exams came back perfect, she tells them, and they exchange a knowing glance, because of course they did. If Chloe's results are like her daughter's, she'll be released later today.
His chest tightens at the thought of their time together being so brief, but soon they're alone again and he tries not to dim the mood.
“So,” he prompts, stroking a hand over her thigh, “tell me how you prayed for me. Satanists have been trying for ages but they never got it right.”
She laughs, and he smiles. “I don't actually know, to be honest. I didn't think of praying—didn't think of anything, really—so I guess I didn't notice what I was doing. It was just, my water had just broken and Rory's birth was, you know, finally becoming real… I remember feeling this really primal, instinctive wish that you were there with me, and then you were.”
“Can't say I don't understand that,” he says with a faint smile. “I’ve missed you every day, Chloe.”
“Me too, babe,” she squeezes his hand. “How long has it been for you?”
“Oh, you know, thousands of years, but it’s best not to dwell on it. Tell me everything that’s happened the past nine months. I can’t believe I didn’t get to relish playing with your extra-sensitive, swollen breasts,” he mourns and she lets out a loud laugh.
Rory starts crying in his arms. “Now you’re the one having all the fun, aren’t you?” he asks the baby, standing up to bounce her lightly.
Chloe shakes her head. “Speaking of fun,” she remembers, “I made Lieutenant.”
“Can’t possibly see how the two things are connected,” he arches a brow, but smiles. “But of course you did. I’m proud of you, my Detective. Should I say my Lieutenant now?”
He bends to kiss her again, then she gushes to tell him everything else he’s missed—Linda wants to write another book, but still hasn’t decided what it’ll be about; Trixie has taken great interest in STEM and spends hours discussing nerd stuff with Ella; the Foundation is going great, by the way, the other day three girls showed up at the precinct and Ella gave them T-shirts; Carol has been really great to her; Maze and Eve are still in their honeymoon phase; Amenadiel has been a really present God but you probably already know that—and everything else fades while he listens to it all, reveling in the moment, in the sound of her voice, the sparkles in her eyes, the way she gestures excitedly, just as happy as he is to be here together, just the three of them.
When she’s finished, Lucifer tells her about Dan and Charlotte eating puddings in Heaven; about how he’s having anything but peace in the Silver City with the pranks he’s pulled—but don’t worry, Dan actually enjoys it—about how Father Frank has asked about her (can you believe he noticed from the beginning what a great match we were?); how even Mr. Said Out Bitch wants to meet the woman that made the Devil happy; how Trixie’s bully ended up in Hell after overdosing at a young age—honestly, that’s why people should learn how to properly use drugs—how it’s been a challenge to draw out and work on people’s deepest guilts, but extremely rewarding at the same time; and she watches him with heart eyes and bloody Hell, how he’s missed this look in her eyes.
It’s hours of talking before the Doctor lets them know Chloe and Rory are perfectly healthy and discharged to go home. Amenadiel comes back with Trixie and they all chat a little more while taking care of everything else that’s pending. He answers most of Trixie's questions about time traveling, and he can see how her friendship with Ella has been rubbing off on her, because at some point she starts babbling about her theories and he listens to it all, proud of the great job Chloe's done. She's an amazing mother.
Eventually, Lucifer drives them home, and when the time to let go comes, he says goodbye with his chest tight. He kisses Chloe with the promise of coming back, holds little Rory one last time with watered eyes, hugs Trixie. From the kitchen's window, he watches as Amenadiel opens the door so the girls can enter. Little Aurora is welcomed cheerfully by their friends—Ella lifting the cute Earth poster she drew for Rory; Maze giving his baby what he imagines is just the first of many knives she'll gift her as she grows up; Linda, Eve and Carol all gushing around Chloe—and when Trixie bends to kiss Rory's forehead, Chloe catches sight of the moment he pops his wings out to leave. She gives him a meek smile, which he returns in the best way he can, and he flies when her gaze lowers to Rory.
Another thousands of years will pass before they meet again, but the memories of this day won't leave his mind for one second.