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[ The higher the building, the further away they’ll be from prying eyes.
In his determination, this is what Lucifer tells himself to distract from the pain as he searches for a spot to land. His mangled wings make for a less than pleasant flight; he is woefully unsteady, particularly with the detective’s extra weight, and the ringing in his annoyingly human ears from the gunfire hasn’t stopped. Bloodied feathers shake loose in the wind, threatening to leave a trail behind him—but none of that matters.
Was it worth it? a voice inside him asks.
He stumbles onto a rooftop after what feels like eons in flight, and he sets Chloe down gently, resting her head on his lap as he struggles to retract his wings. Not long ago, he wanted nothing more than to cut them off. Now he’s not sure he could have saved her without them.
If he even managed to do that.
So was it worth the pain? Worth allowing a part of himself (reluctant was to admit that they were) to be torn to shreds?
Well, yes. Obviously. But he knows he’ll have to wait a bit to find out for real.
The hardest part is seeing her so immobile and helpless, knowing that it would have never happened if not for him. He was the true target. She only stepped in the way.
Why? Why? So stubborn! Always has been, this one, but he admits, it’s one of the qualities that he admires the most in her. Hopefully it will work in her favor, because her time here on Earth is far from done.
When he can’t take it anymore, he reaches for her chest to see if her heart is still beating. He can feel it, a quiet rhythm beneath his palm—steady, unlike his breath. His guilt mixes with a subdued sense of relief.
Any minute now. Right? ]
In his determination, this is what Lucifer tells himself to distract from the pain as he searches for a spot to land. His mangled wings make for a less than pleasant flight; he is woefully unsteady, particularly with the detective’s extra weight, and the ringing in his annoyingly human ears from the gunfire hasn’t stopped. Bloodied feathers shake loose in the wind, threatening to leave a trail behind him—but none of that matters.
Was it worth it? a voice inside him asks.
He stumbles onto a rooftop after what feels like eons in flight, and he sets Chloe down gently, resting her head on his lap as he struggles to retract his wings. Not long ago, he wanted nothing more than to cut them off. Now he’s not sure he could have saved her without them.
If he even managed to do that.
So was it worth the pain? Worth allowing a part of himself (reluctant was to admit that they were) to be torn to shreds?
Well, yes. Obviously. But he knows he’ll have to wait a bit to find out for real.
The hardest part is seeing her so immobile and helpless, knowing that it would have never happened if not for him. He was the true target. She only stepped in the way.
Why? Why? So stubborn! Always has been, this one, but he admits, it’s one of the qualities that he admires the most in her. Hopefully it will work in her favor, because her time here on Earth is far from done.
When he can’t take it anymore, he reaches for her chest to see if her heart is still beating. He can feel it, a quiet rhythm beneath his palm—steady, unlike his breath. His guilt mixes with a subdued sense of relief.
Any minute now. Right? ]