Lucifer: Taken

Part IX

As soon as Chloe left his penthouse, Lucifer's phone was at his ear.
"Mazikeen. They found Romero. Are things taken care of?" he asked only a second after his former body guard and supreme torturer picked up.
"Of course. I talked to him today." Lucifer could almost hear the smug smile on her face. 'Talked' was maybe not the appropriate word for whatever went down, he was sure.
"Excellent. We'll leave it at that." One less thing on his plate. As long as Romero went down for the murders and the kidnapping, there shouldn't be a problem on the human side of things.
"Call if you have problems. You shouldn't, but if you do."
"I trust you completely. In regards to this matter," he clarified. Maze sighed on the other end, obviously pissed at the implications.
"Yeah. Right. Later."
"Maze?" he stopped her from hanging up, but was silent for a moment as he tried to figure out what to say. "Thank you, Mazikeen." His voice was soft, grateful.
"Yeah." Even in the one word before she hung up. Lucifer could hear the surprise in her voice. Lucifer set his phone down on the bar and rubbed his eyes, taking a seat to wait for the Detective's return.

~~~

The elevator dinged as Lucifer struggled to get the sling back over his bloody shoulder. Taking it off turned out to be far easier than putting it back on. His right arm was mostly incapacitated, and his left struggled to manage the thin black fabric and strap on its own, every stretch pulling on the stitches holding his abdomen together.
"Let me help," Chloe suggested, approaching from across the room. Lucifer stilled, and handed it over with an annoyed huff. He bent his head so that she could loop the strap around his neck, and gently positioned his arm where it needed to be, trying not to jostle him as much as possible. Once it was on, he adjusted it accordingly, and gave her a smile.
"How is Mr. Romero?" he asked, walking to the bar and pulling down two glasses. He poured whiskey in both and slid one across the counter to Chloe, leaving her no choice but to take it. She sat at the bar and picked it up, staring into the liquid as Lucifer made his way back around to take a seat next to her.
"He's . . . in custody," she finished. "That guy looks like he'd been through hell, even before Dan got his hands on him." Lucifer barked out a laugh, and Chloe backtracked "Not that I have any sympathy for him—I mean, he deserves everything he got, after what he did."
"It's alright, Detective. You're correct. I'm sure he's had a rough time since I disappeared from that freezer." This was the tricky part: he couldn't lie to Chloe, but he also couldn't tell her the truth about his brother. This was a believable statement, in the middle. True, but not too true. Romero had had a rough time since Lucifer was let out, and it wasn't going to end any time soon.
"That's something that I've been meaning to ask you about," Chloe said, obviously troubled. Lucifer raised an eyebrow and lifted the glass to his lips, encouraging her to continue. "Where did he go after he stabbed you the last time? What was the time frame between when he did that and when we came in? I looked all around, and there wasn't another exit. How did he get away?" Lucifer froze after her first question, putting the drink back on the counter without drinking any of it. He sighed, tapping his finger on the glass.
"Detective, I had just been stabbed. Multiple times. I don't think I could really call myself lucid at that point in time," he said slowly, carefully. "It seems like it happened seconds before you came in, but . . ." He shrugged. "I honestly don't know where he went."
"Of course. You were hurt, and losing blood, and you were probably in shock," Chloe explained, more to herself than to Lucifer. She had no idea how true that last bit was. 'Shock' was an understatement. "And you were on some pretty heavy sedatives. Who knows what the timeline was." Lucifer's fingers twitched at the mention of the drugs, and he gently ran them over the spot where the IV had lived. Who knew indeed.
"We got a full confession," Chloe said, watching him in concern. He nodded, quietly contemplating.
"That's excellent, Detective. Case closed, then." He finally picked up his drink, emptying the glass entirely before setting it back down and standing up.
"What's next then? A new day, a new case? Jealous ex killing their former partner? Drug deal gone wrong? Perhaps another poisoning? Those are always fun," he suggested, replaying some of their greatest case hits.
"No, there wasn't anything when I left the precinct, but I'm sure we'll get something soon. It never seems to take too long, does it?" Chloe asked rhetorically, then her brow furrowed as her gaze zeroed into a spot much lower than his face. He raised an eyebrow with a playful smile.
"Detective, if that's how you'd like to spend our new free time, all you have to do is ask—"
"Lucifer, you're bleeding." She stepped forward in concern, and Lucifer looked down to where she was staring.
"Ah, so I am," he responded matter-of-factly. Sure enough, a small blossom of red had appeared by his left hip and stained his white shirt. "What a shame. I thought you were getting adventurous." He gingerly began to pull his suit jacket off, shrugging it off his left shoulder and again reaching up to pull off the sling, wincing as he felt the stitches pull again.
"Let me help you," Chloe said for the second time in fifteen minutes, and Lucifer slowed his struggle, allowing her to remove the sling and slide the jacket off of the right half of his body. She laid it on top of the piano as he began to unbutton his shirt.
"Come sit on the couch when you're done," Chloe instructed, leaving no time for Lucifer to respond with a quip before she continued. "Where's the bag of wound care stuff that they sent you home from the hospital with?" She began to look around the apartment, and Lucifer watched her with interest as his fingers nimbly opened his shirt.
"Bedroom," he replied, pulling back the dressing and surveying the damage once he got the shirt unbuttoned. Two of the stitches had broken, leaving a small opening where they had sewn him back together. It slowly oozed blood, and Lucifer lamented over his bloody shirt. His tailor would kill him if he could.
Chloe returned to the living room with the hospital bag in hand, ushering Lucifer to the leather couch. He complied without a word, taking his seat slowly and carefully, making sure that he didn't tear anything else open. Chloe knelt down to inspect the wound, and he unconsciously flinched away from her fingertips when they brushed his skin.
"Sorry," he murmured immediately, turning into a statue. After a moment of looking, Chloe rummaged through the bag and pulled out a pair of gloves, new gauze pads, and surgical tape. From her purse, she removed a first aid kid, unzipping it and pulling out sutures, needle holders, and a small pair of scissors. At Lucifer's raised eyebrows, she answered his unspoken question.
"Just in case, you know?" She left to wash her hands, and Lucifer pulled on the surgical tape keeping the dressing on the long cut right below his heart. If they were going to change one bandage, they may as well change them all and be done until the next morning. By the time Chloe returned, Lucifer had laid everything out on the couch next to him as it would be needed. She knelt down in front of him and pulled on the gloves, sighing as she opened the suture set and gripped the end with the needle holders. She looked up and made eye contact with him, silently asking for permission. Lucifer nodded and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the—bloody hell.
He sucked in a surprised breath involuntarily, causing Chloe to stop with the needle through only one side of the wound.
"I'm sorry, Lucifer. I don't have any lidocaine or anything. I have this stuff strictly for emergencies. I know it's not comfortable," she apologized, looking at him worriedly. He laughed breathlessly, the sharp pain subsiding.
"'Not comfortable' may be a bit of an understatement, Detective." At her look, he waved a hand nonchalantly. "It's alright. Go ahead. Don't worry about me." Chloe steeled herself and pushed the needle through the second side of the wound. Lucifer tensed and gritted his teeth, fingers digging into the couch in an attempt to find something to grasp. He squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head on the back of the couch, waiting for Chloe to be done. He could feel the stitches being pulled taut, and imagined how long it had taken the surgeon to fix all that was wrong when he arrived at the hospital. Azrael's blade would be the death of him, literally. He had to get it away from Uriel and keep it away from Uriel. And away from everyone else, preferably. He did not want to go through this again.
A few minutes passed before Chloe gently nudged his uninjured shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and he realized that she was done stitching him back up.
"I replaced those two stitches that broke. Do you want me to change these bandages while we're at it?" she offered, and sensing he was about to protest, spoke again hurriedly. "I don't mind. It's easier for me to do than for you to do on your own." Lucifer nodded in consent.
"Alright, twist my arm," he muttered leaning his head back against the couch again. This time, he watched as she gently cleaned around the two major wounds on his abdomen, first finishing up on his stomach and then moving to the longer cut underneath his pectoral. The cleaning was easier than the stitching, and Lucifer was grateful for the help.
"Can you sit forward a bit? I'll change the one on your shoulder too," Chloe said, quietly stepping around to the back of the couch. Lucifer leaned forward, resting his good elbow on his thigh and allowing the shoulder and arm in question to remain limp. The elevator dinged, and Lucifer's head snapped around to look at the new visitor, preparing to push Chloe behind him if it was Uriel.
Instead, Dan stepped out of the elevator, earning an annoyed huff from Lucifer as he again relaxed to allow Chloe to do her task.
"Dan?" she said questioningly, and he entered the room, obviously a bit hesitant. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh, I just thought I'd check in, see how Lucifer was doing. But it seems like you've got that covered," Dan replied, motioning to the spot where Lucifer sat pale-faced, still recovering from the unpleasantness of being stitched up while still very awake.
"Oh, yeah. A couple of his stitches came out, so I patched him back up and we're just changing some bandages while we're at it," Chloe explained, carefully removing the surgical tape from where it held the bandage onto Lucifer's shoulder. She discarded it and gently washed the wound with a soapy washcloth as Dan approached to observe. Lucifer felt the second set of eyes on his back and glared at the opposite wall in annoyance.
"Daniel, don't you have paperwork to fill out, criminals to apprehend?" he asked through gritted teeth, flinching as the washcloth caught on one of his stitches and pulled. He felt Chloe's other hand touch his back in apology.
"All clear for the afternoon, actually, although I appreciate you making sure I can do the job I've had for over a decade," Dan returned, and Lucifer rolled his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Chloe patting the wound dry and then taping a new bandage over the top. She squeezed his other shoulder, indicating that she was finished, and Lucifer stood, beginning to button his shirt and then catching himself on the wall as a bout of lightheadedness came out of nowhere and threatened to cause his knees to buckle. Both of his guests stepped forward in concern, but he waved them away, taking a few seconds to get rid of the spots in his vision.
"I'm fine," he said before either of them could ask, and shook it off, buttoning his shirt the rest of the way up. Chloe wordlessly draped the sling around his neck, and he adjusted it accordingly, ignoring the worry in her eyes. "I'm fine. Daniel, welcome. Would you like a drink?" he offered, heading to the bar without all of his usual zest and bravado. It was the least he could do for the man that helped save his life, he supposed.
"Yeah, man. That would be great. Thanks." He made eye contact with Chloe behind his back, and she shook her head, warning him not to say a word about Lucifer's state. The elevator dinged again, and Lucifer spun around in irritation.
"This isn't a bloody open-invitation party—" he snarled, the glass shattering in his hand as he caught sight of his newest visitors and involuntarily squeezed his fist. He distantly acknowledged the tinkling of the pieces on the floor as the elevator doors opened to reveal Amenadiel and Uriel.