For David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds, Gene Wilder, Prince and to all of the other fallen stars that we've lost this year.
All I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Tears were streaming down her cheeks; vision blurry and undoubtedly red from all of the bottled up tears she had been locking away for the past day, scratch that past couple of months, okay more like the past year. Chloe could almost taste the salvation that would hopefully accompany the year 2017. She could make a long list of all the horrid things that had happened, not just in her life, but in the world as well.
First her daughter had been kidnapped, nearly getting her and herself killed by a crooked turned psycho cop, had it not been for Lucifer. Who had literally taken a bullet for her. Along with that first point on the list of horrible things that happened during the year that shan't be named, Lucifer had died for her, or so she thought. Then there he was standing in front of her with a charming smile on his lips, claiming that he had died but that he “got better”. She relived that night over and over again in the form of a nightmare every night for months. Every night she heard the sound of a gun ricocheting off the walls of the empty plane hanger. Every night she saw Lucifer collapse to the ground, blood pooling around him, every fiber of her wanting to run to his side but knew that if she moved she would only join him. It threatened the boundaries of her heart, watching him die over and over again, sometimes the result changing in which both Lucifer and her daughter end up dead. She hated waking up in the early hours of the night with her heart pounding out of her chest, Lucifer’s name breaking the silence of night. She had nearly called him on several occasions just to hear his voice but never did.
Second on the list was “the Goblin King”, David Bowie had passed away early into the new year. Chloe briefly remembered seeing Labyrinth for the first time. What with those ingenious puppets and the set that was dipped in blue glitter. She remembered listening to the songs on repeat, the beginning of Magic Dance becoming almost like a secret hand shake between her and her best (and only) friend. Those nights so long ago that were spent watching movies on end, having special nights dedicated to a certain genre or decade. It was the 80s movie marathon that had them watching Labyrinth, cackling like a pack of goblins that David Bowie himself had to have been able to bleed blue glitter as a result of all of the buckets of glitter that were dumped on him.
Along side the death of the Goblin King came the fatal blow that burst a hole in her childhood. First the British man with a distinguishable monotone voice, who after all that time would always make her cry rivers by the end of the final Harry Potter film. And then months later the world famous chocolatier was ripped up and out of the world. It was always a special time when the tale of Willy Wonka took the screen yearly around Thanksgiving time, it was a tradition that people seemed to take for granted. But Chloe could remember watching it with her parents every single year, regardless of what was going on in either of their lives. They always made time to watch with her.
Chloe always wondered if the ones that the world had lost could hear the millions of hearts shattering or the silent sobs that filled the night sky. The purple balloons floating higher and higher with the death of Prince. The words “don’t leave, we still need you” falling from the lips of hundreds and thousands of admirers and from the families they left behind. She wondered if the fallen stars knew how much they’d be missed when they left, how a big gaping hole in seemed to be punched into the surface of the Earth.
Chloe had also learned this year that the man she believed to have murdered her father wasn’t the man responsible. Her dad’s killer had not only gotten away with it but was later tried and still walked. She buried her head further into the pillow that was being crushed under her grasp.
She had thought of her father when she had learned that just one short day after the death of Carrie Fisher, her mother Debbie Reynolds had passed away as well. Chloe remembered one of her father’s favorite movies was Singin in the Rain and every single time it rained she recalled her dad holding onto a black umbrella, twirling it around in circles and whistling the happy toon that Gene Kelly sang in the empty streets.
When Chloe was six or seven years old, she remembered her father getting sick with a horrible case of what her parents told her was the sniffles. She remembered his wheezy cough and how it sounded like he smoked five packs a day, she could have sworn that every time he sneezed the whole house shook as if he was the epicenter of their own personal earthquake. But she also remembered the day he was well enough for her to curl up by his side on the king sized bed, his arm wrapped snuggly around her, the beginning of Singin in the Rain on the screen of the tv they kept in the room. “Watch this Monkey, this is one of my favorite movies, and every time your mommy or I get sick we watch it.”
She had loved it then, she loved it now. She kept that little tradition to herself; not even Dan knew about it. She had her daughter Trixie watch it once when she was really little, but she had fussed the entire time and doubted her daughter would really appreciate it the way she had.
Her quiet cries were thankfully left unheard, what with her daughter with her ex-husband and her roommate out God knows where. She was thankful that she was alone. She needed time to let all of her sorrows wash away after the year she has endured.
Suddenly her phone rang out, turning it over she smiled at the text that came from her wonderful partner.
Where are you?
Lucifer had invited her to spend New Year’s Eve at LUX but she decided against it. Not having the energy to respond she flipped her phone back over. The memories that she has had with Lucifer flooding back in the form of a roaring storm. That’s when Chloe realized that despite all of the bad things that came with the year, there were many good memories that came with it. Memories she wouldn’t give away for anyone.
When Lucifer told her he was officially a civilian consultant and was made her partner, how she’d locked him out of the car and drove off with a smile on her lips. The moment when Lucifer told her he’d think her father would be proud of her and the warm embrace that came with that admission. She had lost the respect of an entire work force but gained an infuriating yet charming partner she would never let go. She had friends she could have a girls night with. She moved out of her mom’s place and got a place of her own. Her daughter was safe and healthy, the father of her child wasn’t in jail (somehow). And she had Lucifer Morningstar by her side.
That’s when a knock at her door disturbed her thoughts, “Detective?” The man of her thoughts called, opening up the front door and inviting himself in. Chloe sniffled wrapping the loose blanket around herself. She should have known that he would come barreling into her home unannounced.
“What are you doing here?” She nearly whimpered, wiping away the remaining tears from her eyes. Lucifer took took large strides towards her grasping her shoulders tightly.
“Detective, you’re-you’re crying. What’s troubling you?” His accent sounding thick and scrumptious to her ears. His eyes searched her for any possible injuries or what the cause of her distress was.
“Don’t lie to me,” he gritted, his jaw tightening, “You know how much I hate liars.”
Relinquishing a long sigh, pushing back a piece of her hair from her face she murmured quietly, “Okay, yes something is bothering me. But it’ll be okay.”
“You’re sure?” Lucifer quirked a quizzical look at her, not sure he fully believed her. Chloe smiled raising a hand to his stubble jaw, “Positive.”
“I promise you I’ll be okay. As soon as this year is over.”
Lucifer chuckled, his eyes glancing behind her, “So in five minutes?” turning she was met with the clock that read eleven fifty-five. She nodded, Lucifer’s thumb stroking across the skin of her shoulder, “hold me.” She barely broke out, her arms wrapping around his crisp suit and pulling him close. His own arms slowly engulfed her, his chin resting against the top of her head, silent tears streamed down her already stained cheeks, no doubt ruining Lucifer’s shirt.
What felt like moments later, Lucifer shifted away at the sound of cheers coming from outside, bowing his head slightly so their foreheads were pressed together. His thumb wiping away a rebellious tear.
“Happy New Year Chloe,” he whispered, eyes meeting for a brief second before they closed the door on 2016 and opened 2017. The kiss wasn’t desperate or hungry, it was exactly what the other needed.
His lips were soft against hers, each inch pressing firmly together. As if to savor the feeling; they held the kiss and then as if carefully pulling a band-aid off of skin, that is if it felt like Heaven was put on Earth instead of Hell they pulled away. As soon as it ended the two were taking in a deep and shaky breath in and closing the distance once more. Her arms wrapped fully around his body in a loving embrace as he lifted her carefully off the ground, swinging her back and forth as they kissed the previous year goodbye. Welcoming the impossibly bright new year with a kiss that shook them both to their cores.
“Hallelujah.” Chloe smiled against Lucifer’s lips at the prospect of a new start for them, but also with the mention of a new year. Hallelujah indeed.