Lucifer: Taken

Part I/II

*This was supposed to be in two parts, but I started writing the second part on here and Wattpad doesn't allow copy/pasting. So part one is Lucifer's POV, before the ~~~ and part two is Chloe's, after.*

Lucifer let out a grunt as he was struck across the face. Again. He spat blood onto the cement, and turned his head back to look his brother in the eye.
"Come now, Uriel. We can settle this little spat when you let me out of these lovely chains," he said with a sneer, made more threatening by the blood dripping from his nose and mouth.
"Oh, Lucifer. If I had plans to let you go, I wouldn't have led you down here in the first place. The only way you'll leave this place is in a body bag like the others, or if you go willingly back to hell," Uriel responded with an unpleasant smile, turning Azrael's blade over in his hands.
Three bodies had shown up within a week of each other: both with obvious signs of torture, and both sending a clear message. Whoever had killed them was looking for information, and wouldn't stop until they got what they needed.
That was what Chloe thought, anyways. Lucifer had known that a celestial being was involved as soon as he saw the note with the first body.
'Luci, I'm home.'
Despite the sinking feeling he'd had at the time, he had to give his brother credit for incorporating the human world into his threat. He'd obviously been on earth long enough to watch 1950's sitcoms, which brought Lucifer a small amount of pleasure. No human had ever called him by that nickname: it was one specially reserved for Amenadiel, and only his brothers would know of it.
Since that day nearly two weeks ago, Lucifer had been working day and night, with and without Chloe, to find the killer. He found the lead in the very early hours of the morning, and followed it without alerting the Detective. Now he realized the mistake he'd made.
Uriel had taken him out almost immediately after a brief struggle, and when he awoke, he was chained unceremoniously to the ceiling by his wrists.
That was three days ago.
Uriel had kept him in the dark, literally and figuratively, for over 72 hours, and there was no end in sight. Unfortunately for him, other celestial beings  were the only things that were capable of hurting him with their bare hands. And Uriel, paired with Azrael's blade, an IV drip of enough Versed to kill a human, and chains that Lucifer couldn't break free from was the perfect cocktail for torturing him on earth for as long as he liked.
"So tell me brother," Uriel began, resting the blade underneath Lucifer's left pectoral and pressing hard enough to draw blood as he made a six inch gash. Lucifer gasped, trying to curl in on himself but again finding himself unable to with the chains holding his entire body up by his wrists. "Does this make you want to stay on Earth? Is this what you came here for?"
"Well, I admit, I am usually the one tying people things, and I tend to use a bed—"
"Enough!" Uriel erupted from behind him, driving the blade into Lucifer's shoulder, just to the side of the scars from his wings. Lucifer shouted out in pain, but it soon turned into a breathless laugh as his head lolled to the side. Uriel grabbed his throat and moved in closer, less than a foot away from his face. "Lucifer, I need you to take this seriously. You need to return to hell where you belong, or I will take you out of existence entirely. Do not push me." Uriel released his throat and backed away.
"Don't push me, brother," Lucifer spat. "I will no longer be playing along with dad's little games. If he cares so much about me being here instead of downstairs, he can come down and tell me his bloody self. Perhaps we can have a conversation when he runs out of sons to use as his pawns and punching bags!" He yelled this part upwards, as if his father was watching and listening to his words. He was tired. His body was bruised, black and blue across his bare chest and back. Uriel had taken liberties with the blade and left cuts, some deep and some shallow, making his torso and arms look like a twenty year old cutting board. He was tired of Hell, tired of his father sending his brothers to drag him back to it, and for once in his existence, tired of the drugs he was on, making him feel limp and useless—
Wait.
He had been hooked up to that IV for days and hadn't felt like this. Sure, he'd been a little out of it, but what he was feeling now was unlike anything he'd felt before. There was no reason that he should be feeling it so much more, unless—
"LAPD, open up!"
Lucifer's breath caught in his throat as he let out a laugh of relief. That voice was unmistakable. The detective had found him. He grinned at Uriel, struggling to keep his head up and look him in the eyes as his brain became more foggy and as Uriel moved closer, eyes dark.
"Well, brother, it looks like you'll have to try and convince me to vacation in Hell another day; the Los Angeles Police Department has finally done their job without me around to—" he broke off with a strangled gasp as Uriel drove the blade into his abdomen, just above and to the center of his left hip. His eyes opened wide in shock, and Uriel pulled away, the blade in his hand soaked in the Devil's blood.
"Removed from existence it is. I'm sorry it had to be this way, brother," he said softly, disappearing and leaving Lucifer open mouthed, shocked, and in more pain than he could ever have imagined was possible.
He heard the door slam open, and the seconds it took for Chloe to get to his side in the middle of the room seemed like eons to Lucifer. His eyes closed as he began to lose the battle with his injuries and the drugs, which were finally hitting hard now that Chloe was near.
"Lucifer? Lucifer, open your eyes," her voice came to him, and he complied; opening his eyes enough to look down and see her worried face.
"Detective," he said hoarsely. "I wondered when you might show up."
"I need help!" she shouted to her team, reaching up to try and unchain him. She couldn't reach quite as high as she needed to, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a group approach and start to work on the chains. A pair of arms wrapped around his waist gingerly, and when the chains were released, he collapsed into them, his knees buckling under his weight. A short cry escaped from his lungs at the sudden pressure on his wounds. As he was laid on the cold cement, he caught sight of the arms' owners.
"Oh my god," Dan muttered, surveying Lucifer's injuries. Lucifer reached down with a shaking hand to hold his lower abdomen where Uriel had dealt the near-fatal blow, and Dan gently moved it away, shrugging off his jacket to apply pressure to it. The action nearly caused Lucifer to lose his vision entirely, and he spoke to distract himself.
"For once, that phrase was used correctly, Detective Espinosa," Lucifer gasped. "Well done."
"What, no 'Detective Douche'?" he replied, sparing a glance at Lucifer's face with a raised eyebrow. Lucifer could tell that he was disgusted by the situation, but trying hard to keep it together.
"You've got your hands literally inside a gaping wound on my body; I figured you should get a pass here," he responded with a smile, letting his eyes close.
"Hey, hey, hey. Lucifer, open your eyes. Stay with me." This was Chloe, and he fought to obey. He opened his mouth to say something and instead coughed, tasting blood and feeling it trickle out the corner of his mouth.
"Aye aye, Detective," he choked out, eyes opening a crack. His head fell to the side as he stared up at her, one of her hands holding his and the other gently stroking his hair. "I solved the case, Detective. It was—" he broke off with a pained yell as Dan readjusted his hands on his abdomen, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
"Shh, Lucifer. Don't talk. It's okay. You're going to be just fine," she assured him. He again reached to the spot that was causing the most pain, and found Dan's hands there. Dan removed his hand from the wound and laid it gently on the ground.
"Hey man, quit trying to hold my hand. I'm not interested," he quipped, and Lucifer chuckled, blood bubbling out of his mouth again.
"D-" he started, then choked. "Det-" he tried again, frustrated that he couldn't get his words out.
"It's okay, Lucifer. Don't try and talk. You have a lot of injuries. Just relax, and try to stay with us, okay?" Lucifer gave a small nod, feeling his consciousness slip away. After a few seconds, he fell into blissful nothingness. Everything was in Dad's hands now.