Chapter Text
Night enveloped the city in its dark veil, and silence reigned in a small cozy apartment. In the bedroom, illuminated only by the weak silvery moonlight seeping through translucent curtains, Vaggie and Charlie slept peacefully, nestled close to each other. Their bodies intertwined in an embrace, creating a snug cocoon of warmth and comfort. The soft breathing of the two women was the only sound disturbing the night's silence.
Suddenly, this idyllic scene was disrupted by the sharp sound of a phone ringing. The melody seemed to cut through the air, unpleasantly contrasting with the previous silence. Vaggie flinched slightly but didn't fully wake up, her consciousness still immersed in deep sleep. Charlie, always more sensitive to sounds, slowly opened her eyes. She blinked for a few seconds, trying to orient herself in the semi-darkness of the room.
Realizing the source of the sound, Charlie gently stroked Vaggie's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin under her fingers. "Sunshine, someone's calling you," Charlie whispered in a sleepy voice, which still carried notes of concern. She was used to night calls and early departures for work in her girlfriend's profession.
Vaggie reluctantly opened her eyes, her gaze still clouded with sleep. She looked at Charlie for a few seconds, as if trying to understand what was happening. Then, as consciousness began to clear, she reached for the nightstand where her phone lay.
The bright light of the screen made Vaggie squint. She blinked several times, trying to focus her vision, and finally managed to make out the caller's name. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw who was calling.
"It's the boss," she mumbled, feeling sleep instantly retreat, replaced by professional focus. Charlie, still lying nearby, anxiously observed her lover's facial expression. She saw how Vaggie's gaze changed - from sleepy to tense and focused.
Vaggie took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts before answering the call. "Hello?" she said, trying to give her voice vigor and professionalism, although it still sounded hoarse from sleep.
"Vaggie, good morning, did I wake you?" Lucifer's voice sounded in the phone, his tone combining apology and insistence.
Vaggie glanced at the clock by the bed, its red digits glowing in the dark. "It's 5 AM now," she replied, unable to contain a note of irritation in her voice. "I guess that's quite logical."
Charlie propped herself up on one elbow, observing the subtle changes in Vaggie's facial expression, listening to the voice on the other end of the line. Vaggie frowned, her shoulders slightly tensing.
Lucifer's voice came from the other end, "Vaggie, I'm sorry. A body has been found."
Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose, holding back a yawn. "Understood, boss. Where?"
Lucifer replied, "In the forest, on the outskirts of the city. I'll be at your house in 10 minutes. I can pick you up."
"That would be great, thank you," Vaggie replied and ended the call.
Charlie, now fully awake, looked at Vaggie with questions in her eyes. Vaggie turned to her and gently explained, "They found a body. I have to go."
Charlie's eyes widened with surprise and concern. "Oh God, is it that woman?" she asked, remembering the case Vaggie had mentioned.
"I don't know yet," Vaggie replied, already getting out of bed. "We'll find out soon."
Vaggie started getting ready quickly. She pulled her usual work outfit from the closet - dark blue trousers and a white shirt. After dressing quickly, she approached the mirror to tie her hair in a ponytail. Her movements were practiced; it was evident this wasn't the first time she had to get ready so quickly in the middle of the night.
Meanwhile, Charlie got up and went to the kitchen. She turned on the coffee maker, knowing Vaggie would need caffeine for the long night ahead.
When Vaggie came out of the bedroom, fully dressed and ready for work, Charlie approached her with two thermoses of coffee. She gently kissed Vaggie and handed her the thermoses. "Be careful, okay?" Charlie said, her voice a mixture of love and concern.
Vaggie smiled softly, took the coffee, and kissed Charlie back. "Of course. Don't worry, I'll be back soon."
At that moment, the sound of a car pulling up came from outside. Vaggie looked out the window and saw Lucifer's familiar car. She quickly grabbed her bag, kissed Charlie goodbye once more, and left the apartment.
It was cool outside, and Vaggie shivered in the morning air. She quickly approached Lucifer's car and got into the front seat.
Lucifer looked tired but focused. "Good morning, detective," she greeted, extending one of the thermoses to Lucifer.
Lucifer took the thermos, nodding gratefully. "Your girlfriend is such an angel," he said with a slight smile, starting the engine.
As they drove onto the road, Vaggie couldn't help but ask, "God, why couldn't they find the body a little later?" she tried to joke, but fatigue was still evident in her voice.
Lucifer exhaled. "Believe me, I'm not very happy about being pulled out of bed at this hour either," he replied, focusing intently on the road.
Vaggie glanced at him sideways. "And how did Alastor take such an early rise? Charlie's already used to this."
Lucifer momentarily took his eyes off the road to look at Vaggie. "Believe me, he only enjoys watching my morning suffering," he replied with a mixture of irritation and hidden tenderness in his voice.
Vaggie couldn't hold back a smile. "Oh, so you were together after all?"
Lucifer suddenly fell silent, his cheeks turning slightly red. "Well... um... we. Yes!"
Vaggie raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm happy for you two, you know."
The rest of the trip passed in comfortable silence, broken only by occasional sips of coffee. As they approached their destination, the mood in the car grew even more somber. The sky was just beginning to lighten, casting gray hues on the landscape.
They arrived at the crime scene, in a secluded area on the outskirts of the forest. Yellow police tape surrounded a significant portion of the area, with several police cars already parked nearby.
When Lucifer and Vaggie got out of the car, they immediately noticed Emily and Anthony coordinating the work of the forensics team. Not far from them stood Adam, talking to a visibly shaken man who had likely discovered the body. To the side, Lute was engaged in what seemed to be a heated discussion with a group of persistent reporters.
Lucifer and Vaggie approached Emily and Anthony, exchanging nods with several officers.
"Good morning," greeted Emily, who first noticed the arrival of her colleagues. Vaggie and Lucifer returned the greeting.
"Hey, why so tense? At least we're all enjoying this wonderful sunrise together, right?" Anthony joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Emily sharply elbowed him in the ribs, giving him a disapproving look.
Anthony flinched, rubbing his side. "Sorry, sorry."
Lucifer ignored the conversation, his eyes scanning the scene. "Who found the body?" he asked.
Anthony pointed to the man sitting on the ground, clutching a water bottle. Adam stood over him with a notebook in hand. "That poor guy over there. He went for an early morning run with his dog. The dog found the body." Lucifer nodded, turning his head towards two figures bent over something.
As he approached, he recognized his brother among the team, crouched down, examining something out of view.
"Good morning," Lucifer called, his voice a mixture of professionalism. "What do we have here?"
Michael looked up, about to answer, when Lucifer's gaze fell on the young woman standing nearby with a tablet in her hands.
"Miss Cherry! What a pleasant surprise to see you again," Lucifer smoothly interjected, a charming smile spreading across his face.
Michael frowned in confusion. "You two know each other?"
Lucifer nodded, still looking at Cherry. "Yes, she was very helpful to us last week."
Michael straightened up, throwing up his hands. "Well, Cherry is my new intern. Quite promising, I must say."
"Indeed, a talented intern," Lucifer agreed in a warm tone. "I dare say she might surpass you soon."
Michael just rolled his eyes. Before he could respond, Adam joined them, greeting the group with a tired nod.
Lucifer's demeanor became more serious as he turned his attention to the scene before them. "This looks... are you sure you can handle it?" he said in a quiet voice.
Adam grimaced, turning away slightly. "I'm fine."
Cherry stepped forward; her professionalism evident as she began to relay the preliminary findings. "Based on our initial examination, we're looking at a woman, approximately 30-35 years old. Time of death is estimated to be about two days ago, although we'll need to confirm this through autopsy."
Lucifer raised his eyebrows. "Two days?"
Michael nodded, pointing out some details that Lucifer couldn't make out. "Insect activity and the stage of decomposition indicate 48 hours, yes."
Cherry continued her report, her voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. "There are signs of restraint," she said, indicating the wrists and ankles. "The cause of death is likely multiple stab wounds to the abdominal area."
"This looks terrible," he muttered.
Adam, still pale, nodded in agreement. "Fuck, it smells even worse."
At that moment, Anthony approached the group, his eyes widening as he looked at the ashen color of Adam's face. "Wow, buddy, you look pretty bad," he said with a hint of mockery in his voice.
"Shut the fuck up," the detective replied dryly.
Michael looked up, assessing Adam's condition. Without saying a word, he reached for a water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to the visibly shaken detective. Gratefully nodding, Adam stepped away from the immediate crime scene, leaning against a nearby tree and breathing deeply.
After the on-site examination was complete, the team began to disperse. Forensic experts carefully packed their equipment and evidence samples, preparing to return to the laboratory for more thorough analysis. Crime scene investigators meticulously documented every detail one last time before departing. Meanwhile, FBI agents gathered their notes and preliminary conclusions, ready to return to the office to start piecing together the puzzle.
The day was drawing to a close, and fatigue was washing over all team members. Lucifer sat at his desk in the office, staring at his laptop screen. His eyes wearily blinked as he reviewed reports and analyzed data collected throughout the day.
Lucifer leaned back in his chair. He looked over his team, noticing the fatigue on their faces. "You know what? That's enough for today. Everyone's free to go, go home and rest."
"Are you sure?" Vaggie asked, raising an eyebrow. "We can work more if needed."
Lucifer shook his head. "No, you've all worked well. Rest, we'll continue with renewed energy tomorrow."
The team exchanged grateful looks and began to pack up to go home. Lucifer turned back to his laptop, deciding to work a bit longer.
After a while, his phone vibrated, notifying him of a new message. Lucifer reached for it, distracted from the laptop screen. Seeing the sender's name, he involuntarily smiled.
"I'm near the precinct. I'll pick you up."
Lucifer hesitated for a moment, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He was quite capable of getting home on his own, and part of him wanted to refuse the offer. But before he could respond, another message came:
"This is not an offer, but a statement."
Stepping out onto the street, Lucifer immediately noticed a familiar black car waiting by the curb. He got into the passenger seat, feeling the day's tension slowly start to release.
"Tough day?" Alastor asked, pulling away.
Lucifer sighed deeply. "You could say that. We still haven't found the weapon," he began to gesture, speaking with obvious frustration. "We searched the entire area, but no traces."
Alastor thoughtfully hummed. "So, you didn't look hard enough."
Lucifer sharply turned his head to Alastor, furrowing his brows. "Excuse me?" then smiling he continued, "Well, Mr. Detective," he said with a note of challenge in his voice, "what can you tell me?"
Alastor's lips curved into a slight smile. "I meant that an inexperienced killer would likely want to hide or dispose of the weapon as quickly as possible and would do so near the crime scene."
Lucifer's thoughts raced, processing these words. Suddenly, he sat up straight in his seat. "Turn around," he commanded.
Alastor looked at him in surprise. "Pardon?"
"We're going to the crime scene," Lucifer explained, already entering the coordinates into Alastor's navigator.
Alastor shook his head. "No, it's evening now, Lucifer. We should—"
"Please," Lucifer interrupted him, a pleading note appearing in his voice. "I'll do anything you want, just take me there."
A playful glint appeared in Alastor's eyes. "Anything?" he asked in a low voice.
Lucifer realized too late the potential danger of his words. "You need to be more careful with your promises," Alastor laughed. "However, a deal is a deal." With these words, he made a smooth U-turn, heading back to the forest.
When they arrived at the site, now eerily quiet and dark, Lucifer turned to Alastor. "If you were hiding a weapon here, where would you do it?"
"I'm smart enough not to make such mistakes, however..." Alastor surveyed the area. "In the water," he answered after a moment. "A pond or stream would be ideal."
Lucifer's eyes lit up. "There's a pond about a mile from here, according to the maps. Let's go."
They made their way through the forest, lighting the path with Lucifer's flashlight. The night was cool and quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the crack of a branch underfoot.
Approaching the pond, Lucifer noticed the silhouette of a small wooden pier jutting into the water. He walked to the edge, illuminating the murky depths. The water was dark, revealing almost nothing, but it didn't seem too deep - maybe 8-9 feet at most.
Suddenly, Lucifer noticed the glint of something beneath the surface. His heart raced with excitement.
"You won't see anything clearly now," Alastor said, rolling his eyes. "It's too dark."
But Lucifer was already acting. He thrust the flashlight into Alastor's hands, followed by his jacket. "Hold this," he said, already removing his shoes and putting on gloves.
Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief. "Whoa, decided to take a swim?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Shine it there," Lucifer ordered, pointing to where he saw the glint. "I'll be quick."
"Are you insane," Alastor protested. "I'll be blamed for an FBI agent's death if something happens to you."
Lucifer flashed a smile. "You'll survive," he said cheekily. With a dramatic flair, he blew a kiss in Alastor's direction, then turned to the murky water. Without further warning, Lucifer ran from the end of the small wooden pier, diving into the cold, dark pond with a resounding splash.
Alastor rolled his eyes at Lucifer's theatrics. "Such a showoff," he muttered under his breath, shining the flashlight where Lucifer had disappeared beneath the surface. Despite his exasperated tone, a flicker of concern passed across Alastor's face as he peered intently into the inky blackness.
The shock of the frigid water hit Lucifer like a physical blow as he submerged. For a moment, the cold stole his breath away, his body instinctively tensing against the sudden chill. He forced himself to relax, allowing his initial panic to subside as he oriented himself in the murky depths.
Lucifer's eyes strained to make out shapes in the dim, cloudy water. The weak beam from Alastor's flashlight barely penetrated more than a few feet below the surface, casting eerie, shifting shadows across the pond bottom. Silt and debris swirled around him, stirred up by his splashy entrance.
With powerful strokes, Lucifer propelled himself downward. The pressure increased as he descended, his ears popping slightly to equalize. The water grew colder the deeper he went, seeping through his clothes and chilling him to the bone. Still, Lucifer pressed on, scanning the muddy bottom for any sign of the knife.
His lungs began to burn as he neared the deepest part of the pond. Lucifer knew he would need to surface soon for air, but he was determined to make this dive count. Just as he was about to give up and head back to the surface, a metallic glint caught his eye.
There, partially buried in the silt between two large rocks, was the distinctive shape of a knife handle. Lucifer's heart raced with excitement at the discovery. He stretched out his arm, fingers grasping for the weapon. But try as he might, the knife was wedged too tightly for him to pull free in one quick motion.
Lucifer tugged frantically at the knife, his oxygen-starved brain growing cloudy. Dark spots danced at the edges of his vision as his body screamed for air. With a final desperate yank, he was forced to abandon his efforts and kick hard for the surface.
He broke through with a huge, gasping breath, gulping in the cool night air. Alastor's voice rang out from the pier. "Did you find anything down there, or are you just practicing your synchronized swimming routine?"
Between ragged breaths, Lucifer managed to reply. "I found it... but it's stuck. I need... to go back down." Before Alastor could protest, Lucifer took another deep breath and dove beneath the surface once more.
This time, Lucifer wasted no energy searching. He made a beeline for the knife, using smooth, efficient strokes to conserve oxygen. Reaching the bottom, he grasped the handle with both hands and began to work it back and forth, trying to loosen it from its rocky prison.
Slowly but surely, the knife began to move. With the final lift, Lucifer dislodged it completely. Triumphantly, he tucked it into his waistband and kicked off, ready to surface. He planted his feet, prepared to push off from the bottom and return to the surface.
But as Lucifer shifted his weight to launch upward, his foot slipped on the slimy rocks, painfully twisting as it wedged between two large stones.
Panic flared as he realized he was trapped. He yanked frantically at his leg, but it wouldn't budge. His lungs burned, screaming for air. The lack of oxygen clouded his thoughts, making it impossible to think clearly or problem-solve. Terror gripped him as he realized he might not make it to the surface.
Above the water, Alastor paced anxiously on the pier. "It's been too long," he muttered, checking his watch for the tenth time. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his jacket. "Damn it, Lucifer. You'll owe me for the rest of your life for this." He dove into the murky water.
The murky depths disoriented Alastor at first, but he forced himself to remain calm and focused. His eyes strained in the darkness, searching for any sign of Lucifer. Just when he was about to surface for air, Alastor spotted a pale shape below him.
With powerful strokes, he swam downward. As he drew closer, Alastor could make out Lucifer's limp form, one leg clearly trapped between two large rocks. Moving swiftly, Alastor wrapped one arm around Lucifer's chest and used his free hand to work at freeing the agent's foot.
After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only seconds, Alastor managed to wrench Lucifer's foot free. Kicking hard, he propelled them both toward the surface, his own lungs burning for air.
Alastor dragged Lucifer's limp form onto the pier, water cascading off both of them. In the dim moonlight, Lucifer's face was alarmingly pale, his lips tinged blue.
"Don't you dare die," Alastor muttered, his usual sarcasm giving way to genuine fear. He quickly positioned Lucifer on his back, tilting his head to open the airway.
Without hesitation, Alastor began chest compressions. He placed the heel of his hand on the center of Lucifer's chest, interlocking his fingers and pressing down hard and fast. The wood of the pier creaked under the force of his efforts.
"Come on, Lucifer," he growled, counting compressions under his breath. "Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight..."
After thirty compressions, Alastor moved swiftly to Lucifer's head. He pinched Lucifer's nose shut, sealed his mouth over Lucifer's, and gave two rescue breaths. He watched Lucifer's chest rise with each breath, praying for a response.
Nothing.
Alastor returned to chest compressions, his arms already starting to ache from the exertion. "You still owe me that favor, remember?" he said through gritted teeth, as if reminding Lucifer of their deal could somehow will him back to life.
He alternated between compressions and rescue breaths, the seconds stretching into agonizing minutes. Alastor's clothes clung to him, a mix of pond water and sweat, but he barely noticed. His entire world had narrowed to the rhythm of CPR and the desperate hope for Lucifer to breathe.
"Come on," Alastor panted, fatigue starting to set in. "Don't make me explain to your team how you drowned in three feet of water."
Just as Alastor was beginning to fear the worst, Lucifer's body suddenly jerked. A wet, choking cough erupted from his lips, water spewing from his mouth. Alastor quickly turned him onto his side, supporting him as he coughed and gasped.
"That's it, get it all out," Alastor murmured, relief flooding through him. He rubbed Lucifer's back as the agent continued to expel water from his lungs, each cough a beautiful sign of life.
Lucifer's eyes fluttered open, unfocused, and confused. He drew in a shaky breath, then another. Color slowly returned to his face as he gulped in air.
"A-Alastor?" Lucifer croaked; his voice raw.
"Welcome back from heaven," Alastor replied, his typical dry tone belied by the tremor in his voice. "Try not to make a habit of this, would you?"
Lucifer managed a weak smile, still catching his breath. "The knife..." he wheezed. "Did I get it?"
Alastor stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious? You nearly died, and that's your first concern?"
A weak smile played across Lucifer's lips. Alastor shook his head, exasperated. "Sometimes I swear I want to wrap my hands around that neck of yours and throttle you myself."
"Go ahead," Lucifer rasped, still grinning.
Alastor stood abruptly. "Fuck you," he muttered, but there was no real venom in his voice.
Lucifer's eyes glinted with mischief as he rasped, "Fuck me yourself."
Alastor's eyebrows shot up, a mixture of exasperation and amusement playing across his features. "You're playing with fire, Lucifer," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "And you've already had one near-death experience tonight."
Lucifer attempted to push himself up, eager to continue their verbal sparring. However, as soon as he tried to put weight on his injured leg, he let out a sharp gasp of pain and slumped back down onto the pier.
Alastor's expression immediately shifted from annoyance to concern. "Let me take a look at that," he said, his tone brooking no argument.
"It's fine," Lucifer insisted through gritted teeth, though the pallor of his face betrayed his discomfort.
Alastor rolled his eyes. "Yes, because 'fine' is exactly how I'd describe someone who just nearly drowned and is now wincing in pain." Without waiting for permission, he gently took hold of Lucifer's leg, examining it carefully.
As Alastor's fingers probed the injured area, his frown deepened. "It's already starting to swell. We need to get some ice on this, and quickly." He looked up at Lucifer, his expression serious. "I'm taking you home."
Lucifer's eyes widened in protest. "But the evidence—" he began, gesturing weakly towards the knife he'd retrieved from the pond. "I need to get it to the lab."
"The only place you're going right now is home," Alastor cut him off firmly. "Where we can treat that leg and get you dried off before you catch pneumonia and die after all. And I along with you, most likely."
A weak chuckle escaped Lucifer's lips. "Well, if that happens, I suppose we'll meet again in hell."
"Bold of you to assume I'd end up in the same place as you," Alastor retorted. He carefully helped Lucifer to his feet, supporting most of the agent's weight as they made their way slowly towards the car.