Lucifer: Taken

Part VI

When Chloe re-entered the room, Lucifer was already in less pain than he was fifteen minutes ago. Having the source of his vulnerability gone did wonders for his body's ability to heal.
"Hey," she greeted him, approaching slowly to stand at his bedside. She rested a hand on his leg and looked him up and down. "How are you feeling?"
"I was gone for three days, you say?" he asked in return, ignoring her question. She nodded slowly, unsure of where their conversation was going. "And then brought here. I was unconscious until last night, which makes four days." Again, Chloe nodded. She started to get anxious, wondering if he was going to talk about what happened to him in the basement.
"So it's Sunday, is it not?" Lucifer questioned innocently. Chloe narrowed her eyes, her feelings from a few seconds ago disappearing. She should have know that wasn't what he wanted.
"It is," she responded carefully.
"There are no debriefings on Sundays," he said confidently, with a smile and a raised eyebrow, calling her out on the excuse that she gave Maze. Chloe sighed, realizing that she'd been caught.
"I know. I shouldn't have lied to Maze. The debriefing is tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you were okay today," she admitted.
"Detective, although I appreciate the sentiment, you don't have to stay here. I'll be quite alright, I promise. I'm in the best hands." He gestured to a nurse, who was just walking through the door.
"Hi, Mr. Morningstar," she said shyly, walking to his side to check the monitors.
"Lucifer, please," he corrected, offering her a winning smile. Chloe rolled her eyes, taking a step back to give the nurse some room to work.
"Well Lucifer, my name is Hannah. I'm your day shift nurse until Tuesday. How are you feeling this morning?" she asked writing down a couple of things in his chart.
"I am positively thriving, Hannah," he responded, and Chloe laughed in disbelief at his blatant flirtatiousness, earning a look of disapproval from her partner. Hannah also giggled, picking up his IV line and pulling a syringe from her scrub pocket. Lucifer went still and the smile completely dropped from his face. Chloe noticed the change in temperament immediately, and jumped up to meet him on the other side.
"Don't," he warned Hannah in a low, dangerous voice, and she took a step back, dropping the line and looking to Chloe for help. She was already two steps ahead.
"Lucifer," she started, sitting on the edge of the bed. He slowly turned his head to look at her, suddenly distrustful of both people in the room. "They're just antibiotics. You've been getting them every hour since you got here. It's okay," she assured him. Lucifer stared at her, unmoving. Thinking. Weighing his options. He finally gave a soft smile, then turned his attention back to the nurse.
"Of course. My apologies, Hannah. Go right ahead." He nodded and presented his arm, eyeing the syringe as it made contact with the hub. Hannah's eyes flickered to Lucifer's face as she slowly emptied the syringe and disconnected it, and Lucifer smiled again at her, obviously faking an uncaring disposition. Although he seemed relaxed, Chloe was watching closely, searching for any sign of tension. She noticed his left hand resting next to his thigh, clenched tightly in a fist as he waited for . . . what?
"Thank you, Hannah. Again, I apologize," he said, and this time, Hannah returned his smile.
"Not a problem at all, Mr. Morn—Lucifer. I'll be back at 10." She left the room, and Lucifer waved at her cheerily, obviously starting at her ass. Normally, Chloe would have rolled her eyes at this, but she had other things on her mind.
"Lucifer, are you . . . ?" she trailed off as he looked at her inquisitively.
"Am I . . . ?" he repeated, then frowned, looking concerned. "Detective, are you alright? You look perturbed." Chloe couldn't help but laugh. Of course he was checking on her, when he was the one with multiple broken bones and stab wounds. Say what you will about him being self-absorbed, but he was oddly less selfish than he was generally made out to be.
"I was going to ask you the same thing," she said, biting the inside of her lip. "Lucifer, I know—"
"So help me Dad, if you say 'I know you've been through a lot', I will literally throw myself out of that window." Lucifer, annoyed, pointed to the window in question. "I'm fine, Detective. I promise." These words were gentler. He knew that she was trying to be supportive, but everyone's 'support' was greatly wearing on his nerves.
"I know, I just—you've been—" Chloe stopped herself mid-sentence at Lucifer's warning look, and backtracked. "Look. I can't imagine what being in that basement was like. And I know you like to say that everything is fine, and maybe it is right now, but someday you're going to have to deal with feelings that come up surrounding this trauma you've been through—"
"It's not trauma, Detective!" Lucifer exclaimed loudly, anger finally seeping into his voice. "I'm alright! If anything, I'm worried about you and dealing with this whole situation." He gestured with his hands at the word, then his features grew soft, all traces of his brief anger gone. "I don't know what I would do if the roles were reversed. If I had found my partner—if I had found you—like that, and had to watch you choke on your own blood while Daniel stuck his whole bloody hand inside your gut, I would be a wreck." His words hit Chloe as if she were the one who had been stabbed.
"You remember?" she whispered, and Lucifer sighed.
"Of course I remember. Daniel's hands are the size of bloody baseball mitts," he scoffed, and Chloe chuckled, blinking back a few tears and looked for something else to focus on. Lucifer's breathing was heavier than it had been at the start of their conversation, and Chloe glanced up at the monitors to make sure that he was alright.
"Okay. Okay," she conceded. "Just please, please promise me that you'll find someone to talk to about all of this."
"Ditto," Lucifer said, holding out a hand to make a deal.
"Yeah, fair's fair," she said with a roll of her eyes, accepting his hand and shaking it. She didn't let go, and their intertwined hands fell onto the bed. For a moment, the room was silent, and Lucifer was the one to break it.
"You don't have to stay here, you know. I promise, both mentally and physically, I am in tip-top shape." He gestured at his bandages, and she laughed.
"It's really not a problem, Lucifer," Chloe replied, letting go of his hand. "I don't mind being here." His words were true, she was sure. He was out of the woods now, and it would probably be safe to leave him by himself.
"I'm sure you don't. Nowhere more exciting than a hospital room," he said dryly. He gestured toward her outfit with a trace of disgust. "Detective, please. My blood is all over your shirt and trousers, and I'd love to not see that every time I look at you. At least go home to take a shower and change. If you wish to spend the rest of your weekend here after that, then so be it, but don't let yourself be bloodier than the man in the hospital bed." Chloe flushed a light pink at his words, looking down at her shirt. How could she be so stupid? Telling him that he had been through a major trauma and needed to find someone to talk to, and then sitting on the edge of his bed wearing a shirt still stained with his blood from what was probably the worst day of his life. She looked down and realized that even her arms still had some of his blood on them, and she shoved her hands in her pockets in embarrassment. Super helpful to the healing process, Chloe.
"God, I'm so sorry. Of course." She stood to go, and Lucifer made a face.
"Well don't apologize to him; I'm the one who's been wronged here," he joked, and Chloe smiled.
"I'll change and come back around lunch?" she suggested, picking up her car keys from the windowsill.
"Take your time; I'll be here. Healing," he added for emphasis. Chloe patted his leg as she went out the door, and Lucifer sighed in relief. Let the true healing begin.