Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I'm an angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun (oh yeah, oh yeah)

Angel with a shotgun, shotgun, shotgun (oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)

Lucifer throws himself over the Detective, shielding her from Jimmy Barnes’ continued gunfire. They’ve barely known each other for a week, and he didn’t hesitate. Nor does he hesitate to make sure that human stain Barnes knows exactly what awaits him.

Get out your guns, battle's begun

Are you a saint or a sinner?

If love's a fight, then I shall die

With my heart on a trigger

He’s fought for her so many times before this cavernous airport hanger. He let her go alone - he gave her his word. He never said he wouldn’t follow. When he threw the paper airplane expertly to land at that Hellbound piece of filth’s feet, he thought he knew what to expect.

He was wrong. And yet still, as he lays dying, the only desire in his billions of years old life that matters is her - her safety. And so he begs his Father, for the first time since he last believed he was dying - burning and healing in the Lake - but this time his request is selfless.

And this time, it’s answered.

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well, baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

So many suits he’s ruined protecting his Detective. Before he met her, his wardrobe almost never needed replacing. Since he met her? The grey Burberry has met its untimely end four times. The cerulean Tom Ford has been replaced twice, and his favorite black Prada with the red accents has been replaced at least three times.

And he would adore nothing more than to replace everything he owns ad infinitum, to keep himself between his Detective and anything that dares to harm her.

I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting 'til the war's won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?

And I wanna live, not just survive tonight

A part of him used to ache for the Silver City. The tiny, burnt and shriveled husk of the Archangel Samael, sobbing silently within the darkened recesses of the Devil’s soul, longing to feel loved and wanted again. Lucifer had gotten very good at ignoring that part of himself - enough that he was able to convince himself that it no longer existed.

But that was before her. His Detective. And to a lesser (but growing) extent, her little Urchin. Through egg sandwiches, coffee orders, lemon bars, chocolate cakes, and eventually game nights and face painting, he begins to feel a soft glow within him where once there was only pain and longing.

Every touch of their hands, every hug (no matter how much he still stiffens at them), every laugh and eye-roll are slowly resurrecting the parts of him he thought long gone. It startles him one day when the good Doctor helps him put a name to these confusing emotional sensations.

He feels loved. He feels wanted. And somehow it’s even better than Heaven itself ever was.

Sometimes to win, you've got to sin

Don't mean I'm not a believer

And Major Tom will sing along

Yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer

Killing himself for her was never not a option. Dying for her was and is always on the table. He will do anything for her - even return to Hell - to make sure she doesn’t leave her Urchin…to make sure she doesn’t leave HIM.

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well, baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

He has to get out of this Loop. His Detective - she needs him. The formula. He can’t stop stabbing Uriel. The blood. So much blood. He has to get out of this Loop. His Detective - she needs him. The formula. He can’t stop stabbing-

I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting 'til the war's won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have?

And I wanna live, not just survive tonight

The closest call of his long life. When he clasps Amenadiel on the shoulder, his brother feels how weak and shaken he is…but all that shows on the Devil’s face is exhaustion and anxiety. Worry for the woman he loves.

Lucifer doesn’t leave Chloe’s side until she wakes up. And then he does the hardest thing he has done in his long, hopeless life.

He walks away from his Detective.

I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting 'til the war's won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

Lucifer can’t stay away. He tries. He even gets married…and it makes things worse. He realizes too late his own true desire - for her to choose him - and the sight of her wearing Cain’s ring feels like another Fall.

This one worse because he’d found his own Heaven on Earth…and then thrown himself off a parapet, breaking his own wings this time. Emotional chains of his own making, just as tight and vicious as the Celestial Steel ones he had been wrapped in the first time.

But this time she’s there when he hits ground…just in time for him to screw it all up again.

I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting 'til the war's won

I don't care if heaven won't take me back

I'll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe

Don't you know you're everything I have? (I'm an angel with a shotgun)

An axe pushing into his sternum. And he’d do it again, and again. Doesn’t the Detective know that by now? She is his anchor, and he is hers. It takes some time for them to find their way back to each other, and once they do…he has to leave.

Luminescent and magestic wings spread, as he carries her confession in his very soul for the eternity to come without her.

And I want to live, not just survive (live and not just survive)

And I'm gonna hide (hide), hide (hide), hide my wings tonight

Destiny is the antithesis of Free Will. Predestination is a nightmare for anyone who cares about personal autonomy beyond a sanctimonious Deity’s whims. So too are the manipulations of a scheming twin, a product of his own Free Will. Was this Dad’s Plan all along?

Eternity will tell whether Michael will ever feel he deserves his wings back. But the Coliseum battle has been a thing of awe, as the twins went Wing To Wing high above Los Angeles.

He’s surprised to realize eventually that his long periods of silent contemplation while uselessly scrubbing Hell’s corridor floors are making him think about what he did. And he knows where he went wrong.

He never should have touched Chloe.

They say before you start a war

You better know what you're fighting for

Well, baby, you are all that I adore

If love is what you need, a soldier I will be

Together, finally, on the same page. Immortal Devil, Archangel, (and possibly God?), and his Detective. It took them a long time to get there…but there’s no way Lucifer will ever allow them to be separated again.

They are Partners, and somewhere along the way that one word came to mean so much. Best friends, lovers, family, and more. And if the universe ever calls on him to fight for the one he loves and all he’s found here on Earth again? He’d only have one thing to say.

“Bring it bloody on.”

Chapter Text

Lucifer has attended a surprisingly low number of funerals, for someone almost as old as Time. The reverence with which humans treat the soulless husks they leave behind had seemed an oddity at best…rather disgusting at worst.

In a way, he could kind of understand it if he tried. The need to remember someone they truly didn’t know if they’d ever see again. To share memories and grief - these strange, social and yet self-isolating beings his Father had Made.

But he personally had never felt the need to participate in their rituals - he already knew he’d never see them again. If they met the Gates of the Silver City, they were lost to him for eternity thanks to his Banishment.

If people he liked entered his own Kingdom? He likewise wouldn’t see them - he only made that mistake a couple of times in his long life. Do not visit a soul of someone you liked in a Loop…the things he saw still haunt him.

But…then things changed. And the more time he spent on Earth, the more he came to understand why humans did the things they do when grieving. He saw grieving families on every case he worked with the Detective. He saw how deeply she still grieved her own father.

He found himself deeply grieving a Priest he’d known only a matter of days. He attended that funeral. His first  funeral attended that wasn’t the result of a deal or morbid curiosity. It was…uncomfortable. And he still didn’t quite understand the whys of it all. But it was a human thing to do, and Father Frank has been human. So he attended.

Uriel didn’t have a funeral…not a real one. Lucifer buried his baby brother’s lifeless, empty husk, half blinded by his own tears. He stood for a long time beneath the gnarled tree. But he didn’t talk to Uriel…he didn’t even scream to their Father on High. For the first time he understood how it truly felt to lose someone to oblivion. For the first time, he wished he could mourn like a human.

I close both locks below the window

I close both blinds and turn away

Sometimes solutions aren't so simple

Sometimes goodbye's the only way, oh

“Let there be Light.”

There was so much going on. His Mother’s flesh vessel was failing, the world - possibly the entire bloody universe - was at stake if She exploded. He did the only thing he could do - he begged Her to leave, even though a part of him desperately wanted Her to stay.

He mused later that at least he had the knowledge that his Mother was alive and well and free. But as he drunk half his bar after getting home finally that evening, he vaguely realized that he was experiencing something akin to the grief he felt over Uriel.

Unlike Uri, though, he knew Mum was fine. And emotions are inconvenient at the best of times, so he rationalized the grief over Mum away. It wasn’t like you could throw a funeral for someone who seemed still alive, right? Ridiculous notion.

And the sun will set for you

The sun will set for you

And the shadow of the day

Will embrace the world in grey

And the sun will set for you

Charlotte’s death was another new experience. Sudden, just like Father Frank’s, but worse in that it wasn’t hard for Lucifer to feel responsible for this particular loss. Daniel’s vehement insistence that it was his fault in the following weeks didn’t help either.

He attended her funeral, like he had the Padre’s, and stayed silent in the back of the church. He stayed at the graveside longer than anyone else save Daniel.

When he left, Daniel was still there. And the Devil understood the need for funerals even more acutely.

In cards and flowers on your window

Your friends all plead for you to stay

Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple

Sometimes goodbye's the only way, oh

He stood on his balcony, an empty tumbler that had once contained some truly lovely Scotch sitting beside a full ashtray on the table nearest his right hand. Another cigarette dangled from his fingers as he drew in a slow, currently smoke-free breath.

He must have been in shock. He could still hear his Father’s parting words - still feel that last, truly amazing hug. The culmination of billions of years of self-hatred, of feeling unworthy and lost, of even believing he truly might be as evil as humanity claimed…only for his Dad to look on him with love and say He was PROUD of him. HIM! Lucifer Morningstar.

For the first time since he walked into his Father’s Throne Room, - a headstrong, innocent, all too cocky teenager of an Archangel, fully expecting to be heard out and listened to because he KNEW his Father loved him and would see reason - he knows his Father loves him. Has always loved him.

And then He left.

He just…left.

Humans are born and grow up with the knowledge (though the age of acquisition can vary) that one day they will outlive their parents. The parents spend their offspring’s adolescence and young adulthood preparing their spawn for their own eventual absence.

This doesn’t make the losses easier to bear, from what he’s seen, but they all act like it should. The idea of death is never far from humanity.

From the first carnival fish that’s flushed unceremoniously after two weeks, to the family dog’s “trip to a farm”, to eventually a loved one like a grandparent’s loss help build up an understanding that once a person is gone, you still keep living. It’s what they’d want, after all.

And humans will never have the absolute certainty he does as an Archangel or as the Devil. He KNOWS how the afterlife works, and that there is one. He knows that when Daniel dies, he’ll see Charlotte again - just as much as he knows that he will never see them again.

Or, at least, he used to know that. Now, with Dad’s retirement complete, no matter if it’s he or Amenadiel that inherits the throne, he’s realizing that his banishment might soon be lifted. He feels lighter at the realization that he could see his dear Charlotte again. Which was quickly followed by the extrapolation that when his Detective and the rest of his found family (Maze included, and bloody hell is THAT a trip) make their ways Upstairs, he will still get to see them.

If anything could ever make him WANT to return to the Silver City, that would sure as Hell be it.

But his Parents won’t be there. Dad’s Office will be his or Amenadiel’s. Mom’s Sunroom has likely been closed off since her own banishment, but he still remembers the cozy lounge he used to curl up with Michael in…back when they were still young. Back when they still loved each other.

Back when his first family was still whole.

Celestials aren’t built like humans. His Parents were all the Omnis…and one of those was Omnipresent. He had never learned how to exist in a world without them. A world without them has never existed.

Until today.

A single drop of water landed on his hand where it rested on the railing. He glanced up at the mostly cloudless Los Angeles sky, only to feel another drop rolling down his cheek.

He was crying. He, the Devil, was crying. Because it was one thing to believe your own parents hate you, but know that they were still THERE. And when he was desperate, when he truly NEEDED his Dad, when he was bleeding out from a gut shot in an airplane hanger, Dad came through.

He should have realized then that things weren’t exactly as he believed. But he was still so angry, so certain of his Dad’s penchant for control and manipulation…he missed it. And then he spent the next two years making his own life harder in every way to avoid his Detective’s Free Will being compromised. Something that apparently was never an issue in the first place.

And now Dad was gone. Neither He nor Mum could ever come back. His Parents still existed, and he did know that for a fact. They were in a completely separate universe and he would never see them again. There was an impenetrable veil between his reality and where his parents lived, just like…

Just like the planar boundary between Earth and Heaven, to humans.

He stubbed out the cigarette, grabbing his tumbler and heading for the bar to get a refill, when something cream colored lying across one of his bar stools caught his attention.

He put down the tumbler, picking up the fabric. The moment he lifted it, he realized what it was - it buzzed softly with lingering Divinity, making his hands warm as he held it.

One of Dad’s stupid sweaters. Just like the Old Man to leave his stuff lying around and then bloody vanish forever into Mum’s universe. Leaving him here where he’ll never see them again…where he’ll never get another hug… where he’ll never smell either of their unique scents again…

His nose was buried in the material before he realized he was moving. Deep, heaving sobs wracked his long frame. They were gone. He was gone. She was gone. He’d never see them again…

Oh…now he finally understood funerals. When you have nothing left but an empty husk, and no guarantee you’ll ever see them again, of course you respect the body. Of course you care if this, the piece of their physical self you have left, is treated well.

He held the sweater until the sobs subsided and his random trembling stopped. He went into his closet, retrieving an empty garment bag, and proceeded to carefully hang his Father’s sweater. He zipped it safely inside the bag, giving it one last look before closing the zipper…not unlike the zipper on a body bag.

He hung the bag at the end of his closet closest to the bedroom. The bag would be hidden behind his least favorite suits…but he would know it was there. Like a single headstone in a cemetery, as he learns to set aside space to mourn, and to figure out what to do with this new emptiness.

Sometimes emptiness is its own weight. He understands that now, too.

And the sun will set for you

The sun will set for you

And the shadow of the day

Will embrace the world in grey

And the sun will set for you

Chapter Text

Twice. Twice in the last 24 hours. For the first time since the wretched fluffy shackles returned, the feathered nuisances had grown back twice in the same day.

They grated in their incorporeal state, twitching and shifting like the skin of a horse besieged by particularly nasty flies. He imagined he could sense each individual hated feather, rising like goosebumps with his ire.

While he helped the Detective with her interrogations, they fluffed in contentment at her nearness any time his mind strayed from focusing on keeping them tight against his spine in the ethereal. A shiver of frisson ran through them - and the rest of him - when she laid her hand on his arm in excitement, having spotted a lead.

They fluttered against his back - ethereal or not they were part of his body, and responded to his tumultuous emotions. He read once that humans sometimes had physical reactions based on emotional turmoil. Constant stress could cause a thing called excema blisters to form on digits, itching and burning maddeningly and creating a feedback loop of stress that seemed to him not unlike his mental stress over his wings.

Every time they itched and he resisted the urge to manifest his wings just to claw out feathers and try to get it to stop, he wondered if maybe he had stress excema on his wings. How far does his bloody mortality sich go, anyway? Oh Dad, just another bloody thing to worry about.

At least until he got home and could cut the infernally Divine bastards off again.

It had been a particularly long day chasing suspects & running down leads. However, his Detective was brilliant as always and in the end they got their guy…well, girl, actually, this time. And as they returned to her desk and the Devilsbane of paperwork, he excused himself to head home.

He had some manscaping to take care of.

Getting in the elevator, he automatically put a hand out to catch the door so Daniel could get in. They’d been better with each other, lately, the snark turning into a real friendship. Where he’d once have clicked the button to close the door and given the man a dismissive finger wave as they closed, now he was actively holding it for the not-so-douchey Douche. Would wonders never cease?

“Hey, man, thanks,” Dan said as he ducked into the elevator. “I gotta get out of here and go get Trix from the babysitter.”

“My pleasure, Daniel,” the Devil intoned, though it was a bit gravelier than his usual dulcet tones. Try having a horrible itch all day and knowing you couldn’t scratch it until you got home.

“You ok?,” the man asked his frenemy, genuine concern lacing the words as he hit the button for the parking level.

Lucifer shook his head. “Dealing with a few…personal issues, at the moment. Nothing the Devil can’t handle, I assure you.” Dan’s slight eye roll wasn’t as rewarding as his Detective’s was, but he did still enjoy eliciting them.

“Whatever, man.” Dan shot a glance at the Consultant when a low groan slipped out as the elevator came to its jarring stop. Lucifer was likely having some sort of uncomfortable STD flair up, from what Dan could tell.

Still, he could have sympathy for his sometimes friend, who also happened to be his ex-wife’s Partner, and one of his daughter’s favorite people (though it had taken Dan a long time to be okay with that fact).

He walked with Lucifer toward their cars, his own parked a few spots past the Corvette, saying goodnight as they reached the Consultant’s vehicle. As Lucifer turned toward the car, Dan reached out and gave the other man a firm whack on the back, right between and below where he knew the other man’s wicked scars hid. It was meant as a gesture of solidarity.

The next few seconds seemed to pass in a blur. Daniel Espinoza found himself winded, on the other side of the parking lane they’d been traveling down, and there was a loud, insistent car alarm that seemed to come from all around him. Another split second informed him that the car whose hood he’d landed on when SOMETHING whammed into him was the source of the alarm.

He sat up slowly, sliding down off the dented hood of the noisy patrol car, trying to figure out what had happened and to get his ears to stop ringing…the alarm wasn’t helping with that, either. “What the…”

Exactly seven times in his life before this, Daniel Espinoza had been rendered speechless. Some good reasons, some bad, but nothing compared to this one. All he could do was gape with his jaw on the floor.

Because Lucifer Morningstar - the asshole Consultant who’d wriggled his way into his life via Chloe as proxy, work and home alike, the man who’d personally bedded 75% of the city, the guy who he’d recently been ROOTING for when it came to him and Chloe - Lucifer Morningstar had WINGS.

Brilliant white, spanning the width of a small plane’s wings, held in an awkward-looking aloft position to (he imagined) keep them from damaging the cars the way they’d sent him flying. He’d slapped Lucifer’s- he’d slapped the DEVIL’S back, and a pair of goddamned (literally?!) angel wings had burst from his shoulder blades like those elephant toothpaste experiment videos Trixie loved so much.

But what caught him off guard even as he felt a part of his brain jibbering in terror with all of the existential questions he suddenly knew the answer to (because Lucifer doesn’t lie, and he’s been telling them all about how the universe works for over two years), was that the Devil was holding completely still. Dan couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. His feathers seemed to shiver as if cold…or scared.

Lucifer didn’t move. He hadn’t even had a moment’s warning. When his abruptly unfurling wing whacked Daniel he’d barely had enough focus to make sure it was more of a love tap than a true WHAM that likely would’ve broken the man’s spine. And now he didn’t dare move.

He heard Daniel’s grunting and muttering. Thank anyone but Dad that he was conscious and seemed unhurt. And then he heard the sharp intake of breath that came with the man finally registering what he was looking at. They stood there silently, a stalemate, until Lucifer finally slowly turned around to face Dan.

Dan’s face was ashen white and he was frozen in place, eyes locked on the Devil. Neither Celestial nor human moved for a long, tense moment. Lucifer tried for as harmless of a smile as he could muster, and gestured to himself before finally, almost sheepishly, speaking.

“Um…Surprise?”

Chapter Text

I'm tired of being what You want me to be

Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface

Samael wasn’t sure exactly when it all started to go wrong. He had been secure and happy, once. It felt like so long ago already. But time in the Silver City had always been tough to pin down.

Some time after Mum started having kids en masse, but before Dad really got going on his Project, he reasoned. It wasn’t a distinctive line of demarcation, but it was as close as he could come.

Don't know what You're expecting of me

Put under the pressure of walking in Your shoes

Every step that I take is another mistake to You

(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)

Warmth and Family were once synonymous to him. Safety, love, the feeling of being needed, of being WANTED, by those he loved in return was as constant a part of his life as breathing.

Maybe that was why he couldn’t breathe now, his lungs as frozen as the rest of him. Kneeling before God’s throne - not as a beloved son, but as an agitator who had torn his family asunder.

His Father, God Almighty, thundered above him, his form holding nothing of the familiar. No comforting arms to crawl into. No soothing voice to tell him that it would all be alright. Just a swirling vortex of fire and clouds. A glance in his Mother’s direction revealed her inaction, her waveforms unreadable in the current state of matter she wore. So that was it - they were both rejecting him.

I've become so numb, I can't feel You there

Become so tired, so much more aware

I'm becoming this, all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like You

And still, with his Father’s Voice echoing in his skull, he couldn’t understand. He just wanted to be his own man - to have a chance at what Father had so lovingly gifted the Humans. Why? WHY was that so bad? All this anger, three Celestial Days of thunderous shouting, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out WHY.

His Dad’s mind was never his to know, of course, and he never presumed to. But he did ask questions. In the past, when the Project was just getting off the ground he had sat at his Father’s knee, asking question after question. And his Father…his Dad…had laughed and indulged him.

They talked about the fascinating creatures he had planned for the Project. Huge things, some with feathers like them, but without true wings. Scary things that his Dad had assured him would never be able to hurt him or his siblings, as they were Celestial and anything of the Earth Plane shouldn’t ever be able to injure them. After that reassurance he had adored the creatures humans would eventually come to call dinosaurs.

He still wasn’t sure their being wiped out to evolve into new, less interesting things (though at least the new things could fly…mostly) counted as “being fine,” as his Dad had said when he expressed sadness at the enormous creatures’ fiery end. But back then he still trusted. He still accepted the comfort of the hug his Dad had given him. He still had faith.

They talked about his siblings. He had confided in his Dad that Michael had been spending more time with Gabriel than with him now that they’d finished their painting the cosmos with stars and dark matter. He missed his twin, and the relationship they used to have.

They talked about what it would be like when human souls would eventually populate the area his Dad referred to as “Heaven” - the entirety of the area surrounding the Silver City. Samael remembered being excited at the idea - so many lives, every one unique, every one driven by their own Desires. He wondered what they would be like.

Can't you see that You're smothering me?

Holding too tightly, afraid to lose control

'Cause everything that You thought I would be

Has fallen apart right in front of You

Amenadiel was the one who first told him - excitedly, even - that as Father’s children, they WERE their Purposes. The Firstborn was thrilled not to have Free Will, seeing it as unnecessarily complicated. And he certainly couldn’t understand why his joyful proclamation seemed to do nothing but anger his little brother.

That wasn’t where it started, but it didn’t seem to matter much at this point. The longer the Trial went on, the less anything seemed to matter. He felt frozen.

Every step that I take is another mistake to You

(Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow)

And every second I waste is more than I can take

The harsh, angry faces of his siblings were almost as bad as his Father’s booming fury and his Mother’s shimmering indifference. He could feel their anger at him, and in some cases their fear for him, like hard rain on his skin.

Rae-Rae was terrified. She was hiding behind Jophiel and Hadriel, and if he hadn’t caught her eye for a moment when she peeked out, he wouldn’t have known she was there at all.

The Almighty’s anger was like a suffocating current through the impossibly large room, sweeping through and stealing the breath of anyone who might dare to speak in Samael’s defense. Not that it seemed anyone would do that.

Here, in this chamber filled with his entire family, he had never felt so alone.

I've become so numb, I can't feel You there

Become so tired, so much more aware

I'm becoming this, all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like You

Michael and he had been inseparable. For literal billions of years, as the plane below cooled from their explosive fun creating stars and planets and giant gas clouds with no purpose other than being pretty, they played and laughed and loved.

Always together - to the point that their siblings quickly learned that if you saw one without the other, some sort of prank would soon follow. And that was fun, too. (Less so for Amenadiel, as the stuffy Firstborn was their most common target.)

Neither twin had slept well any time they needed to be apart because Dad needed some special work done that only they could perform. It was an honor…but it lead to Samael spending a lot of time curled up in their Father’s Throne…though at the time it had more resembled a comfy lounge, full of pillows and blankets he loved to nestle down in. Michael, in contrast, threw himself into battle training any time the white-winged twin was needed without him.

Samael barely recognized their shared face as Michael glared at him from his position at Father’s left side. But he could still see what no one else could on his closest brother’s face: the slight eye twitch, a minuscule flinch with each of Father’s booms of fury. Michael was afraid, too. Samael wanted to comfort his twin, but he still couldn’t move. Not until his Father Willed it. He hoped desperately that the tirade would be over soon.

And I know

I may end up failing too

But I know

You were just like me, with someone disappointed in You

Did the Lord God Almighty ever have someone to disappoint? Samael didn’t think so. In the stories his Parents had told them, both of them had existed separately until they found one another. But neither truly seemed to know where they had come from or what they had been before that monumentous first meeting.

Or at least, if they did know, they never told him.

There he was doubting God again…maybe his Father had been right to name him “Poison”…it seemed he’d poisoned his whole family now.

He suddenly registered the silence that had fallen. He tried to lift his head, to look up at his Father - hoping against hope to see his Dad looking back and not just a featureless pillar of fire and clouds - but he was still frozen in place.

The silence gave him a kernel of hope, though. Perhaps it was almost over. He would be allowed to speak. He would apologize. He would wait until his siblings left and then he would hug his Parents and beg their forgiveness. It would all be okay again.

I've become so numb, I can't feel You there

Become so tired, so much more aware

I'm becoming this, all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like You

Instead, he heard the orders given to Michael & Amenadiel incredulously. Bind him? Chain him? Send him to HELL?! He struggled to speak, to beg, to MOVE…but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even scream when the chains were cinched so tight thst his wing bones cracked and broke.

As they dragged him to the edge of the Realm, the yawning abyss that began just outside the gates, he couldn’t fight. He couldn’t THINK. He couldn’t fathom that this was happening. Were his brothers - his own twin, and the eldest of them all - actually going to fly him down to Hell and just LEAVE him there?!

As it turned out, no. They were never going to fly him down. And as he began to tip over the edge, his Father released the Command that held him still and Samael’s desperation burst from him in a flurry of random movement that resulted in one arm freed from the chains.

His blind, panicked grabbing managed to get ahold of Michael’s wing, and in his terror he wrenched his twin’s shoulder as he scrabbled to keep gravity from taking over. Michael’s scream ripped through him and he instinctively released, realizing in that way only twins have that he had caused horrific damage to his once closest brother.

With a gasp of horror, blood on his hand, his eyes still wide and wild, the Archangel Samael fell from Heaven. And as he fell, as he burned, even before his spectacular splashdown in the Lake of Fire, he could feel his Family turning their backs on him.

It didn’t matter how hot the temperature was, or even the blinding pain of his body as he endured the seemingly endless fall. It was the rejection that made his very soul freeze.

When the being once known as Samael finally emerged from the Lake of Fire, he had molded himself into a new creature. Lucifer Morningstar - the Devil. Billions of years later, his heart and soul would one day thaw again. But for now…he was numb.

And for now, that was exactly how he preferred it.

I've become so numb, I can't feel You there

I'm tired of being what You want me to be

Chapter Text

Lucifer had just walked into Hell. There were shrieking small, and even tinier, humans everywhere. Harried parents rushed around ensuring the safety of the spawn invasion, and it could easily pass for any number of Hell Loops he’d stuck his head into and immediately backed out again.

He narrowed his eyes and forced himself to focus on his current goal. The sign read “Sky Zone - Admission.” He had a promise to uphold, after all, and he was always a Devil of his word.

“Come ON, Lucifer!!”

How exactly the King of Hell ended up escorting the Detective’s spawn, solo even, to this den of germs and sticky fingers, he… Well, he’d like to say he had no idea. But unfortunately, he doesn’t lie even to himself. He knows exactly how he came to be here.

The Detective asked him to.

It hadn’t even taken cajoling. The Spawn had been looking forward to a friend’s birthday party at this venue for weeks…only for three things to go wrong the day before the party. The host had to cancel because the Spawn’s friend had gotten sick and they didn’t want to spread it.

But Chloe and Daniel had both already been scheduled to attend a four hour seminar on…something. The Devil, despite being IN the details, hadn’t paid much attention to those. However, they weren’t available for the hours Beatrice was supposed to be at the party, and the girl was already disappointed by the party cancellation. And to top it all off, despite both parents searching, they couldn’t get a sitter they knew they could trust on such short notice.

So when Chloe had looked up from her phone and complained to him about what was going on, he was sympathetic. Of course he was. She was his Partner. So when she asked him if he could take the Urchin for the afternoon…well, he had said yes.

Only later had he realized he would have the Spawn in his Penthouse alone with him for several hours and it occurred to him what she could potentially do without her mother’s supervision, did he start worrying about how quickly he acquiesced to anything his Detective asked. That was when he had a flash of brilliance - or what had seemed like one at the time - he should take the girl to the venue she would have gotten to go to if the party hadn’t been cancelled.

Now that he was here, it didn’t seem like such a brilliant plan. Did that child seriously have his fingers up his NOSE?! And what exactly was that small one doing crawling around on this sticky-looking floor?!

To his credit, he had dressed slightly down for this. When he told the Detective that he planned to take the Spawn to the Sky Zone, she had INSISTED he not wear a suit. And when he picked up Beatrice, he could see that the Detective approved of his bespoke casual ensemble - her eyes had lingered a bit over his pecs in the T-shirt and his ass in the jeans…or at least he told himself that’s what she was looking at. And beyond that, she was right - the sign as they reached the admissions counter had a whole list of things you weren’t allowed to wear inside the actual “Park” itself. And rules for things you HAD to wear, too, it turned out.

“Here you are, sir,” the attendant said, holding out two pairs of truly hideous purple and orange striped socks.

Lucifer stared at them until the Urchin hopped and snagged them. “What…are those for?” Beatrice handed him the larger pair and he took them, holding them between finger and thumb as one might carry a dead rat.

She was already putting her shoes and socks into the numbered locker they’d received a key for. “You have to wear them to go inside,” she explained patiently. Lucifer was really old, and sometimes she had to slow things down for him to get it. It was ok - she liked him anyway. “You gotta put YOUR shoes and socks into the locker with mine.”

He stared at her, then at the locker, then down at his own shoes, then at the hideous socks. “No.” He tossed the socks into the locker and went to walk past her. The Urchin blocked his path, and he stopped rather than walking into her. She put her little hands on his waist and pushed. The Devil, of course, was unmoved. “What are you doing?”

Beatrice rolled her eyes up at him and he couldn’t help his grin. Decker eyerolls were after all one of his favorite collectibles. She shoved again. “You have to put on the socks or they’ll kick us out.”

“Preposterous. I paid the entry fee.”

She pointed at the rules up on the wall. “We gotta follow the rules,” she said pointedly, before rearing back and shoving him as hard as her little human body could.

Lucifer sighed dramatically, but allowed himself to be moved to the seat beside the lockers. Muttering to himself about ‘bloody stupid rules’ and how ‘the Devil is the original rebel…being forced to obey the rules of a trampoline park by an Urchin of all things…’

“You love me,” said Urchin asserted with a bright smile. He froze after pulling on the second horrid sock, and stared at her. She rolled her eyes again, grabbed his hand and yanked. “Come on! We can go in now.”

Still stunned by the Spawn’s certainty, he allowed himself to be lead deeper into the facility. He wasn’t even sure he knew what real love was - but he was sure that Beatrice did. And he wasn’t sure what that meant for him.

Trixie released his hand so she could climb into one of the trampoline areas. She loved Lucifer, really, but he could be so weird about some things. She knew her mother didn’t believe he was really the Devil (though, honestly, she’d seen him come back to life too, and Trixie really wasn’t sure what other proof her mom wanted), but she knew.

She knew from her Abuela’s fascination with “that Catholics stuff” as her dad put it, that everything about the Devil in there was wrong. She knew him. He was nice, and funny, and so so much fun. But he’d been through a LOT - like the abused dog her friend Jessie had adopted. So though the scary stuff was over, it was still big in his head, and he had to be taught how to have fun and play and just be a normal dog again.

It worked with a dog, so for sure it would work with the Devil! And this was the perfect place to teach him to play and have fun. So she was going to take advantage of it. “Come on, Lucifer! You’re wearing the socks. You can come in!”

The Devil eyed the raised, padded edge of the series of trampolines. He could see other things further into the facility. Bouncing basketball courts, multi-story slides, jungle gyms, foam pits, even some odd, large, cylindrical… empty aquarium? In the middle of the facility. To reach any of it, he would have to go through the trampoline obstacle course the Spawn was currently trying to draw him up onto.

“Very well,” he said with as much dignity as one can muster when one was wearing socks that were a crime against fashion. He didn’t even wince at her squeal of glee as he climbed onto the first trampoline and primly stood up. “Now wha-OOF!”

Two other urchins about Beatrice’s age when he first met her had quite literally bounced off the nearest wall and collided with him in unison. He dropped back and when his ass hit the trampoline, he slid into a backwards roll and primly bounced back to his feet.

“Watch where you’re going…” he trailed off when a few people around gave him a round of applause. “Oh, thank you. You’re all too kind. Please take these away from me,” he said, shooing the two giggling girls back toward their parents.

Trixie bounced over. “That was so awesome!” She was bouncing high enough to be eye-to-eye with him at the apex of each bounce.

He gave her a winning smirk. “Of course it was. It was me.” Ooh, a third eyeroll. If he can get five out of the Urchin, he’ll count it as one proper Decker Eyeroll. She bounced further into the trampoline area, and now he followed. Walking on trampolines seemed to be odd - even the adult humans were bouncing to get around. Oh well…when in a Roman trampoline park, he thought, and began hopping after the Spawn.

Trampolines have potential, he found himself thinking. He should get a big bunch like this installed on one of the floors of Lux. They must not be too hard to clean and maintain if they let sticky little spawn fingers all over them. Lux could hand out branded jump socks too - a souvenir. Of course he was thinking about how well they’d work for orgies as well - that extra bounce could be quite fun. And perhaps the Detective and her spawn would want to play in it too (hence needing to keep it clean), or maybe he’d just put in two separate floors. One child friendly, one not. That could…

Wait. Where did Beatrice go?

Lucifer bounced in a circle, searching all the small bouncing heads around him for the familiar pigtails. He felt a lump rising in his throat that had nothing to do with the bouncing. His chest was tight as he made his way further into the maze of trampolines. His first time taking care of the Spawn not at her mother’s residence and he’d LOST her!!

She had to be here, right? Where did he last-

Something ( the Urchin?!) careened into his midsection as he bounced up, small arms wrapping tight around his waist as the child’s momentum carried them over the edge of the trampoline and into a momentary free fall.

He moved with supernatural speed, turning them and curling his body around her smaller one so that his spine would take the impact with the…foam.

Oh.

The clever little parasite had timed that to knock him into a foam pit. He had to give her credit - she had learned she couldn’t move him if his feet were on the floor, so she’d set up an ambush.

How much training with Mazikeen was this little hellion doing?!

The hellion in question was giggling her head off as she sat up on him in the pit of foam blocks and other shapes. “Gotcha!”

He smirked. “Well done, Urchin. But don’t declare victory before your opponent is defeated!” With that he grabbed her waist with both hands and tossed her straight up into the air.

Trixie gave an excited shriek as she found herself dropping back down into the foam. How had he even gotten out from under her so fast!? But she knew what to do. She dove into the foam and threw a few pieces in random directions including right at him, then went still.

“You know I was there when Mazikeen learned this trick, Spawn.” The Devil’s voice taunted from nearby, but not close enough. She didn’t move or speak. “You really think you can hide from me TWICE? I know you’re right dow- Ah haha! Urchin!”

Yes, she knew right where he was, too. And when his socked foot came down nearby, she latched onto his ankle with one and scrabbled her fingers against the arch of his foot with the other. She cheered and giggled at her victory as Satan collapsed into the foam next to her, laughing almost as hard as she was.

What ensued next was a surprisingly long and fun game of tickle tag around the whole area. She’d known that if she could get him to play, he’d relax and have fun. That’s how he was on game nights, too. Which was also where she’d recently learned that the Devil was ticklish thanks to a (very cute) wrestling match for the karaoke microphone between her mom and Lucifer.

He really was a lot like an abused dog. It was sad to think about, though, so she stopped. Playing was far more fun.

The game eventually stopped as she got tired, and Lucifer bought them snacks at the concessions counter. He even obeyed the rules and didn’t try to take their food back into the play area! She was making so much progress!

Lucifer eyed the child as she seemed to be getting more ketchup on her face than on her corn dog. It was interesting to him that the spawn liked ketchup, when her mother disliked it. She must have inherited her love for the foolish condiment from Daniel. He wordlessly handed her a stack of napkins, and she thankfully cleaned herself up.

A loud whooshing sound came from behind him, and he turned to see what it was. The ‘empty aquarium’ he’d noticed earlier had a pair of people in it, and they were somehow flying up into the air, bodies spread out like skydivers.

“Oooooh,” Trixie said, eyes bigger than dinner plates. “Can we do that next?”

Lucifer stared at the two people, drifting up and down, tucking arms and legs for a short free fall and then spreading them to lift again. It reminded him of moments he hadn’t thought of in…eons.

Rae-Rae had been afraid to fly when she was new. He was the only one who hadn’t teased her about it. He taught her to fly by holding her with her back to his front, arms securely around her waist, and her wings in the ethereal. Then he had her mimic his own wing movements as they hovered on an updraft high above the Silver City.

He remembered how proud he felt when she first soared on her own. How they used to play, not unlike the way he and the Urchin had just been…

And there was suddenly a weight in his lap, and small arms around his neck. He blinked back to himself as his left hand settled on Beatrice’s back. He looked at her in confusion. “Why…why are you accosting me, child?”

Her answer was soft and muffled into the fabric of his designer t-shirt. “Because you’re sad. Hugs help when you’re sad.” Honestly…it was scary how much he didn’t know about how to be loved.

“I am no-“ he cut himself off, registering the platitude as a lie. “How did you know?”

She pulled back from him, picking up a clean napkin from the table and patting his cheeks with surprising tenderness. Her eyes seemed older, suddenly, and despite being Daniel’s hue, there was the Detective in the soft way she looked at him. “You started crying. We don’t have to do the skytube if you don’t want to, Lucifer. It’s ok.” But it was what she said next thst really caught him. “It’s probably too much like falling, for you, huh?”

Lucifer stared at Beatrice for a long moment - not even thinking about the fact that she was sitting in his lap, snuggled up to him in a way that probably had the whole place thinking she was HIS spawn. She…did she KNOW? “You know about my Fall, mm?”

She nodded, then made a face. “My Abuela is a big fan of your Dad. But I don’t think I like Him if He kicked you out of your home. Mommy and daddy would never do that to me.”

Lucifer looked at her, eyes suddenly stinging violently and a lump rising in his throat that stole his ability to speak. His arms went around her before he could even consciously make the decision and he held her to his chest, her little head tucked under his chin, until he got control of his voice back. “They most certainly would not. Your parents are infinitely better than mine ever were, my dear child.”

She sat back and looked at him again. “I know. So it’s ok if we don’t do the- eep!”

He stood up and slung her under one arm like a manila folder. “Nonsense! If it’s the Skytube you desire, then the Skyrube you shall have.” And he strode off toward the attraction, depositing their trash in the receptacle with his free hand.

Trixie giggled hysterically as the Devil carried her under his arm, only plopping her back down so the attendant could go over the attraction rules with them.

“Are either of you experienced skydivers?”, the attendant asked them.

Lucifer gave a winning smile. “I practically invented the sport, my boy,” he said as Beatrice said “no” beside him. That apparently qualified them to go in solo, in a tandem harness.

As they were strapped in - Beatrice’s back to his front, like a giant one of those things people carry new spawns around in - and had sat through the boring safety presentation, they had to wait their turn for the Skytube.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be ok?” Trixie asked, looking up at him as he walked into the tube when it was their turn.

Her concern for him was so like her mother, and he felt another lump in his throat….but it was somehow almost pleasant, this time. “I’ll be fine, Urchin. This isn’t like Falling.” The giant fan below them spun to life below the grate floor, and he felt phantom wings unfurl behind him as his feet left the floor. “This is like FLYING.”

Trixie whooped as they swooped up in the air. Lucifer knew what he was doing, and she could tell. He moved them around the tube, up and down, doing twists and turns and dives and swoops that made her stomach feel like she’d just ridden every rollercoaster ever. It was a good thing she had her mom’s “asbestos stomach”, whatever that meant. All she knew is it meant she didn’t get motion sickness like her dad did. Which was good, or she might have ended up revisiting her earlier snack.

The attendant ended up letting them stay in longer than usual, as they’d attracted a crowd of onlookers and the line for the Skytube was now long enough to last the rest of the day. When he finally pulled the plug, he marveled at the graceful way the man and his daughter set down lightly on the landing pad by the door. The crowd applauded, and the tall man bowed dramatically as he exited the Tube and headed for other attendant who would unharness them.

Freed of their voluntary shackles, Lucifer held a hand out for Beatrice. “Come on, Spawn. There’s still the arcade to explore.”

Trixie’s smile was so big, her mouth hurt. He was offering to hold her hand! She slipped her hand into his and nodded. “Let’s go!”

He was learning. And just like her friend’s dog, she and her mom would definitely get him to understand love properly. He’d already made so much progress even just today! And what an awesome day it was. After all, it wasn’t every day that you got to go fake flying with the real Devil.

Chapter Text

The being now known as Lucifer Morningstar had been his Dad’s brightest and favorite child. He had been innocent, secure in his position as a beloved son and favorite brother to many of his siblings.

He had no reason to believe anything would change - after all, they were all eternal and immortal. What could go wrong?

Back then, he was ignorant of the storm brewing in his own soul. Back then, when he was the Archangel Samael, he Believed without question.

Until there were questions. Until he had the gall to ask them.

I'm a saint and I'm a sinner
I'm a loser and a winner

Without faith and a believer
I am true and a deceiver

The humans alternated throughout history. Some saw him as an irredeemable villain, the Prince Of Lies, despite the fact that he never did. Others saw him as a symbol of rebellion and free thinking, none having the foggiest idea why he actually Rebelled or what the Rebellion consisted of.

But at least they seemed to agree that he was gorgeous and tempting. That part they got right at least. They had no idea that the Devil they so feared really had no interest in what they thought of him.

The goat thing, though? He didn’t have the bloody foggiest idea where that had come from. Or why it refused to go away.

I'm a hero and a villain

I'm a myth, and I'm a legend

Without strength and a contender

I am real and the pretender

Take me as I am, or don't

'Cause I don't give a damn, no

Take me as I am, or don't

’Cause I don't give a damn, no

He moved through history, either by visiting the recently damned to see the new developments on Earth, or by taking vacations topside.

Amenadiel stopped him every time, his storm-grey wings a reflection of the righteous anger in his eyes. Eventually Lucifer had to accept that the humans were right about one other thing about him - he was detested by his own Family.

I have my flaws

I make mistakes

But I'm myself

I'm not ashamed

That's who I am (oh)
That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am

I have my doubts

I lose my strength

Sometimes I fall, but I don't break

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am

When he came topside for his vacation that would eventually turn into retirement, he had no idea the storms he would soon weather. Or how much he would grow and change over time, like a stormcloud slowly revealing a rainbow.

Rainbows are refracted light, so despite their association with his Father’s promise never to flood the humans nearly out of existence again, he always felt they were part of his domain. A little hint of the beauty of his stars, here on Earth.

Chloe Decker would become his rainbow.

I'm a poet and a soldier

I am young and growing older

Without hope, but I'm a dreamer

I'm the cure, and I'm the fever

I am lost with no direction

I am failure and perfection

Without grace, but I am tired

Of walking life like it's a wire

His Detective quickly became the brightest spot in the emotional whirlwind that was his life. Over time - some faster than others - more humans began to light up around him. The Urchin. The good Doctor. Mazikeen - regular small betrayals aside. Even Detective Douche and, most surprisingly of all, his own big brother Amenadiel.

As life lashed his metaphorical windows with downpour after downpour, they became the eye of the storm to him. Especially her.

There was no way he could ever be worthy of her grace. After all, he hadn’t been worthy of his Father’s.

Take me as I am, or don't

’Cause I don't give a damn, no

Take me as I am, or don't

'Cause I don't give a damn, no

What they thought of him…it mattered. That Doctor Linda thought he had a chance with the Detective, it mattered.

So when his Devil Face chose the worst possible time to return and she ran…he broke. All he could see was what she’d seen - the monster.

But then she did accept him. He wasn’t the only one who had made mistakes. If she could accept him, then it meant maybe he wasn’t irredeemable after all - no matter what his Family thought.

I have my flaws

I make mistakes

But I'm myself

I'm not ashamed

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am

I have my doubts

I lose my strength

Sometimes I fall, but I don't break

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am

Some things never changed from his Celestial childhood. That little part of him that desperately wanted validation was still there.

When his Father walked the Earth, he was afraid that this was it - that God Almighty would either change what was broken within him, or that he would be summarily rejected once and for all.

One thing was sure - he would NOT change who he was to fall in line with his Father’s bloody ineffable Plan.

I don't wanna be someone else

I don't ever wanna lose this thunder
Never gonna try to change myself

When everybody's got their soul on sale

I don't wanna be just a number

Never gonna try to change myself, oh-oh, oh-oh-oh

What he hadn’t expected in the storm of his Dad’s Earthly visit was the moment of absolute peace he found in his Dad’s arms. That hug and confession meant more to him than he ever thought possible. He was finally loved and accepted by both of his parents.

Just the way he was.

It was a revelation…because it lead to the absolute knowledge that he had already BEEN accepted wholly and completely by his found family. They were calm amid raging water. And Chloe, his Detective…she was his North Star.

And while there would be more storms in his unending life, that was the moment he knew for sure that as long as he had his found family, they could get through it.

They all calmed the storm in his soul. And for the first time in an eternity, Lucifer Morningstar had a true Home.

I have my flaws

I make mistakes

But I'm myself

I'm not ashamed

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am

I have my doubts

I lose my strength

Sometimes I fall, but I don't break

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am (oh)

That's who I am

Chapter Text

Lucifer was adamant - his Detective needed a vacation. But she wouldn’t agree to go anywhere out of State, so the compromise they’d come to was a beachfront property he owned a couple of hours up the coast.

California had no private beaches, of course, but when the house was the only one with access to a little cove, it basically counted as one. And the trip north in the Aston Martin had been lovely - even with the Urchin squealing in the back seat at every “cool” thing she saw out the windows. In fact, considering how unnaturally reserved she’d been since her father’s untimely death, any excitement was a balm to both of the adult’s souls.

“Lucifer, the house is gorgeous,” Chloe said as they got out of the car in the expansive driveway. The house was a mansion, set back from Pacific Coast Highway, and she would have thought the winding drive that lead them up here was a street and not a private road if he hadn’t had to enter a code to open a gate when they turned off the highway.

Her boyfriend was richer than God, and that was before he’d won the right to actually BE God. She hadn’t yet figured out how to define his wealth without that particular descriptor. But she knew he was loaded. Still, standing in front of a beachfront mansion in Santa Barbara, it was hitting her strongly just how much money the Devil had. “How many properties do you own, anyway?”

Lucifer cocked his head. “Worldwide or just in California?”

Chloe’s eyes went wide and she shook her head. “Nope, nevermind.” She may have reached a point where his Celestial nature was unquestioned and something she just accepted, but his vast wealth was somehow more intimidating than his absurd age, sometimes.

“Mom! Lucifer! Come on!” Trixie bounced on the front porch, pointing at the door to make it clear she was waiting for entry.

Lucifer smirked and lazily strolled up to the door, somehow managing to look casual despite carrying/pulling both his and the Detective’s luggage (Beatrice insisted on hauling her own) and several full bags of groceries. “Did you need something, Spawn?”

The look the girl gave him was 100% her mother’s annoyed glare, and the Devil’s eyes widened. He reached out with his power, releasing her into the house with a click of the lock before he even neared the door. “Well then, go!”

Trixie thanked him quickly and was through the door and into the house before his name had fully left her lips. Chloe and Lucifer entered more sedately. The house was an open floor plan, the kind Lucifer obviously preferred, and of course in front of the back windows there sat a grand piano, the centerpiece of the large room.

The kitchen opened directly into the room over a half-wall for ease of setting out refreshments when entertaining. A bar not unlike the one in the Penthouse took up a lot of the wall opposite the piano, and the style of decor was also recognizable. The whole house was familiar because it felt like Lucifer, Chloe realized. She’d never been here before, but as Lucifer began puttering around to put away the groceries they’d bought in the way, she couldn’t help but think that anywhere the three of them were together would quickly feel like home.

Trixie was going from room to room, exclaiming over art pieces and other items. Lucifer answered every question she asked without hesitation - except when she asked why one of the interior doors was locked. To that, he said that it held items he had deemed inappropriate for Urchin fingers, and therefore had his property maintenance company move a few things and lock it off when he decided they were coming here.

Chloe leaned in close to him, their shoulders brushing, heads close together as he bent to organize the items he was putting in the big, gorgeous fridge. “What’s really in there, Lucifer?”

The Devil smirked at her, but his eyes were as soft as they always were when he looked at her. “Only things I’m saving for the next time we come here - without the Urchin.”

Chloe blinked. Then her cheeks heated. She’d thought that after they’d been together for awhile, she’d stop getting embarrassed when she thought about what sexual prowess and toys her boyfriend had…but today was apparently not that day. “Oh.”

The word was a squeak, and Lucifer seemed to light up almost as bright as his name implied. He loved flustering her almost as much as he loved getting her to roll her eyes at him. He nuzzled up to her as he turned to pick up more groceries, dropped his voice low, sensuous with a gentle side of playful that let her know he was teasing. “Or I could just show you now…”

That did it. She pushed him away gently and flashed him a smirk of her own, though her ears were still pink at the tips. “Get thee behind me, Satan,” she intoned with sparkling eyes as she turned and walked away from him.

“Oh, Detective,” he purred after her. “That is PRECISELY where I would like to be.”

“Where do you wanna be?” The Urchin suddenly appeared on one of the barstools and how long ago had she come back in here?! Now it was Lucifer’s turn to be flustered.

“None of your business, you nosy little thing,” he said, trying to regain composure. Whirling to get the upper hand, he held out one of the apples he’d just been putting in the fridge. “Here, a distraction.”

Beatrice, to her credit, grinned. “The Devil is offering me an apple.” She looked at her mother and said, with exaggerated innocence. “Mom? Should I give in to temptation?”

“Considering all you’ve eaten today was an egg sandwich before we left? Yes.” The Mom Tone begged no argument.

Trixie snagged the apple and happily took a bite, the rolled her eyes and accepted the napkin Lucifer held out to her pointedly. “Lucifer, it’s an APPLE. Not a sloppy Joe.”

The Devil leveled a look at her. It wasn’t a “Dad Look”, per se, but it did have a similar effect. “Apples have juices, some of which you already have on your little Urchin face. Napkin, or eat it out on the deck.” He motioned to the sliding glass doors behind where the piano sat, the lock clicking open as he did.

Trixie was fine with that. She kept the napkin, AND went outside to eat her snack on the deck. The view was amazing, and there was even a fire pit out here! They’d be able to make s’mores tonight. She’d already made sure they bought the supplies during the grocery run on the way up. Including those tasty salty caramels that would go so good on them instead of just plain chocolate!

The sun was setting slowly, the sky turning colors and darkening as the Devil moved around the house, unpacking them for the weekend. Trixie came back inside eventually and sat on the (ridiculously comfy) couch, watching as Lucifer worked to make their dinner. “We could have just ordered pizza,” she observed as her unofficial Step-Devil chopped and mixed. Chloe had decided to take a long bath while he cooked (the whirlpool tub in the master bath was HUGE), so it was just the two of them.

“Nonsense! We stopped for groceries so I could cook for us properly while we’re here.” He looked up at her even as he started sautéing onions and garlic. “Besides, delivery pizza is NEVER as good as homemade.”

Her eyes lit up and she sat forward. “You’re MAKING pizza?!”

“Of course, Urchin.” He gestured to an odd-looking oven built into the wall of the kitchen - the door thin and long rather than a big square. “I partially chose this property as our destination because of this lovely in-built pizza oven that was installed during the remodel when I bought it years ago.”

She blinked. “How often do you make pizza that you had them install a special oven for it?”

“Well…not often, honestly. But I do know it’s one of your and your mother’s favorite foods, so I thought it would be useful to have.” His eyes were on his work as he spoke, the lovely smell of caramelized onions beginning to fill the house.

Trixie tilted her head - a mannerism she’d picked up from him before she was even 9 years old. “But you said the remodel was years ago. How long?”

Lucifer stilled for a moment, registering that (once again) his honesty had gotten the better of him. “Ah. Well, I, uh…Yes. The renovation was in early 2017. Your mother and I were growing quite close at the time, and…it just seemed like a good idea.” A quick clear of his throat and a bright smile as he looked up and met her eyes. “It would appear I was right, naturally. I just had the timing a bit early.”

Trixie smiled. There was a time, not too long ago, where an admission like that would have had her running across the room to hug him. But she was older now…and she just didn’t have the energy for that since her dad died. “Thank you, Lucifer.”

His smile went soft - the one reserved just for his Decker girls. “You’re welcome, dear one.”

The nickname was new - since Dan’s death - but the way he had called her his ‘dear sweet child’ that night had kind of stuck. Along with ‘Spawn’, ‘Urchin,’ and ‘Offspring,’ though generally only used in moments like this, ‘dear one’ and ‘sweet girl’ had found their way into his nickname lexicon.

Trixie honestly loved everything he called her - just like she loved when Maze called her ‘Little Human,’ because she knew that those nicknames were how the Devil and his Demon showed love. She also loved how Lucifer could make her mom’s title (“Detective”) sound sweeter than all the mushy stuff in romantic movies.

Dan had called Trixie his “glitter girl” after a particularly spectacular arts and crafts fail when she was four. What even Chloe didn’t know was that he’d kept calling her that - but only when they were alone. It was special - a name just for Daddy/Daughter time.

And with an almost physical impact, the grief rocked her back into the cushions as she suddenly registered that she wouldn’t hear him call her that again until they were all in Heaven. She sniffled very quietly. Would he even remember it then? She had her whole life ahead and he…he was going to miss it all.

Of course Lucifer heard the sniffle. He slid the pizzas into the oven before looking over at the Urchin. She seemed to have shrunk into the cushions, and for a moment she looked even smaller than she had when he’d first met her. She was hiding it well, but he knew that soft sadness in her posture all too well.

There was a time when seeing her upset would have sent him running for Chloe, so she could take care of her daughter. Not too long ago, even. But with Daniel’s untimely passing, he’d stepped up instinctively into his new role in the girl’s life. As long as he didn’t label himself as anything other than “Step-Devil,” he could even avoid the (still there) clench of panic in his chest at the thought of being responsible for partial rearing of a child.

He took off his (unnecessary) oven mitts, and walked over to sit beside her.  She didn’t look up at him, keeping her face angled down and away…but he saw the tear thst had escaped and was rolling down her cherubic cheek. He pulled a tissue from the box on the coffee table and gently patted the track on her cheek before offering the tissue to her.

She took it and wiped her eyes, then blew her nose and tossed it in the wastebasket on her end of the couch. They sat in silence for a few minutes before she finally spoke. “Can daddy see me from Heaven? What’s it like?”

Lucifer took a slow, deep breath. Daniel wasn’t in Heaven - a fact that only he, Amenadiel, Linda, and Chloe knew. He had to consider his words carefully. While he was certain Dan would find his way eventually, their current stalemate of not being able to figure out what his lasting guilt was about made this conversation difficult. He wouldn’t lie, though.

“Heaven is…beautiful,” he began finally. His recent trip’s pain, grief, and terror not withstanding, of course. “Every human soul can have anything their heart desires, all the time.” He leaned toward her conspiratorially. “I imagine your father’s Heaven to be filled with pudding cups, Weaponizer marathons, and time with his loved ones that reside there.”

Trixie smiled a little bit, but sniffled again. “Does that mean he doesn’t…desire to see me?”

Lucifer looked at her with a furrowed brow. “That is not what I said. Every time I have spoken to your father since his passing, you’ve been all he asked about, dear girl.”

She sighed softly. “So he can’t see me…but he can at least get updates from you and Amenadiel.” Another sniffle. “So he won’t completely miss my whole life…but I still have to miss him for…the rest…of it.” Her voice hitched in the end of her sentence, and she began to cry.

Lucifer felt his heart break, and before he really thought about anything - like Urchin snot on his new Burberry - he had pulled the girl into his lap and was cradling her against his chest, curling his body around her and rocking her as if she were a fussy infant rather than nearly a teenager.

“Oh my beloved Urchin…I am so, so sorry,” he whispered into the sobbing girl’s hair, his own eyes stinging violently. He and Daniel had a history frought with strife…but in the end they’d been Bracelet Bros. The very same bracelet Beatrice now wore on her left hand had been his. Daniel had been buried with his on his right wrist - Lucifer had given his to the Urchin after the funeral so she could have a piece of her father with her always.

He’d gone through much of his life not understanding why humans seemed to need funerals…but he’d come to some realizations over the last years. He understood now, and that was why he had sung with Ella for Daniel’s funeral.

What Michael had set in motion, what Le Mec had carried out, it had all been in the name of usurping the Throne of Heaven. Though Michael had lost the War, his actions were still having repercussions on Earth…and would for the rest of this little girl’s life. And every time that reality asserted itself, Lucifer regretted sparing his twin’s life.

As he had told the good Doctor - it was unfair, the system his Dad set up. And he was determined to fix it…starting with getting Daniel out of Hell. He just…hadn’t been able to do it yet.

He gave Beatrice the tissue box as her sobs became sniffles, and she cleaned herself up slowly. Lucifer felt a tugging sensation in his chest - he wanted to make her feel better. To give her some reassurance beyond that her father asked about her and that she would see him again some day (he was determined - and the Devil rarely failed anything he put his mind to), but he was at a loss for what to say.

A memory rose in the back of his mind. One of the first things he and the Urchin had done together when she was younger had been a visit to a trampoline park. They’d had a few conversations that day. “Urchin, do you remember what you told me at the Sky Zone?”

She blinked red-rimmed eyes up at him, fingers slowly shredding a clean tissue in a habit she knew she got from her dad. When he’d had a bad week, sometimes his couch looked like it was covered in white confetti. “I don’t have an idet-…edit-…didac-… a perfect memory, Lucifer. I don’t remember everything we’ve ever said.”

“Eidetic,” Lucifer corrected. But then his demeanor softened again. “You told me it was alright to be sad, dear one.”

Trixie hiccuped. She remembered now. He’d cried - just a couple of tears, nothing as dramatic as what she just finished doing - when they were talking about riding the indoor skydiving tube. She’d thought he was sad thinking about his Fall, but he said that wasn’t it, and then he’d taken her on the most amazing ride of her life. “I remember. I never found out why you were sad, though.”

Lucifer nodded, and she expected him to brush it off again…but then again, he was always good at surprising her. “I was thinking about my favorite little sister and how I’d taught her to fly. She isn’t much taller than you, actually.”

The Urchin looked up at him, and her still red-rimmed eyes shone with curiosity. “Did something happen to her?”

“No, dear one. I simply hadn’t seen her for a very long time, and it hurt to think of how we had once been.” He took a deep breath. “She and I have since reconciled, but sometimes…you remind me very much of her when she was young.”

“And that made you sad?”

He nodded. “It did. But you told me it was okay to be sad, and reminded me that I had someone else now that I needed to teach to fly.”

She smiled. “That was so awesome. Everyone was ooohing and ahhhing at us in the Skytube!” She hugged him tighter. “Thank you for helping me feel better, Lucifer. I think you’re a great Step-Devil.”

And Satan’s heart very nearly escaped the confines of his ribcage with the way it suddenly pounded with love for his little Urchin. His arms tightened around her and he hugged her back.

There was a time not too long ago where that statement would have lead him to unceremoniously launch himself off the back deck and fly away. Now, it felt right. It felt like home. “Thank you, Beatrice,” he whispered as he held her tightly but gently.

He could try to do the right thing and hope it worked. After all, that’s what Daniel had been doing. And when it came to a loving dad, well…there were far worse role models to have.

Chloe gently tied her robe closed and slipped back into the bedroom to let them have their moment. She didn’t think they’d even noticed her.

It warmed her heart to see her little Monkey snuggling with Lucifer. Their bond, while it had started rather one-sided, had become something beautiful in recent years.

She hadn’t ever heard the story of their time at the Sky Zone like that before. Trixie had come home raving about the place but she never mentioned that Lucifer had been upset…unless you counted the part where her daughter had catapulted the hapless Devil into a foam pit, a fact that had even said Devil seeming torn between being impressed and annoyed when HE told the story to her the next day on a stakeout.

They’d almost missed their suspect when she’d been laughing too hard to breathe as Lucifer animatedly recounted what sounded like an epic tickle tag match through the whole place. His eyes had been bright and excited, hands moving with exaggerated motions as he told the story. That was when she realized that whether he realized it or not, he loved her little Monkey.

A fact that had just been proven yet again - even beyond the “I’d do anything for that little Urchin,” statement he had made over a year earlier.

She peeked out again to find Lucifer murmuring quietly to Trixie. They were still cuddled up on the couch. She knew Dan couldn’t hear her where he was, but she still thought at him regularly. One of their theories was that if he ever managed to hear her, he might be able to use her voice to haul himself out the damned door. Somehow. She didn’t claim to understand the idea. But she sent the mental image of the pair on the couch his way, regardless, even as she snapped a quiet pic with her phone from the doorway to send to the Tribe Chat.

She could see the timer on the oven - they had 15 minutes. She decided not to bother them. As she went about arranging her things in the master bedroom with Lucifer’s, she smiled to herself. A couple of days in a new place that Dan had never been, just being the three of them was just what all of them needed.

And tonight when she and Lucifer went to bed, after dinner and s’mores and tucking Trixie into her (huge) bed, Chloe made sure Lucifer knew exactly how good of an idea she thought the trip was.

From the sounds he made, he agreed.

Chapter Text

My stupid heart don't know

I've tried to let you go so many times before

Then wound up at your door

My stupid-

Chloe Decker had never trusted easily. When people broke her trust once, they never fully regained it.

Lucifer Morningstar was the same way, to an absurdly (one might almost say ‘Biblical’) degree. Those that broke his trust found themselves lumped in with his hated Family - a position that none got out of easily.

Can't believe that I haven't figured out by now

Every time I call you up, all you do is let me down

Should've known there was nothing about us I could change

Every time we try to be friends, it always ends the same

As Chloe sat in the restaurant waiting for Lucifer, she felt her stomach drop with every passing minute. Every pitying glance from the waitstaff made her wish more and more thst she could sink into the chair and vanish.

Against her better judgement, though, she forgave him for blowing her off. He didn’t lie - he must have intended tone there and something (something he couldn’t talk to her about, apparently) must have come up.

When she walked into the Penthouse months later to find white sheets on all the furniture, it was even worse than the night in the restaurant. Why did she keep trusting him?

She forgave him AGAIN. Only for him to disappear after leaving her a seemingly heartfelt voicemail, and show up randomly in the desert with (he claimed) shiny new wings and a shit ton more baggage.

But she kept working with him. Because when it came down to it, as Partners they may be ridiculous…but they were also somehow a perfect match.

But when I try to remember

All the pain that we've been through

Something in me says, "Whatever"

And it brings me back to you

In between the letdowns, it was…incredible. They had Moments, a stolen kiss on a beach, her waking in the hospital to find him beside her bed - every single time, game nights, movies, a surprise Prom beneath the beautiful lighting in Lux…maybe that was why she always forgave him.

My stupid heart don't know

I've tried to let you go so many times before

Then wound up at your door, my stupid heart

Too late, already on my way

If we go down in flames again

Then you can blame my stupid heart

She always came back to him. He always came back to her. Neither of them were happy without the other.

Maybe that’s why when she saw his face and ran, she never doubted one thing: he would be there when she got back.

Every now and then I get inside of my head

Try to leave your texts unread, but I wind up here instead

I should've bit my tongue while we were still ahead

I always had to be right, 'til we had nothing left

Lucifer Morningstar was attracted to Chloe Decker. He had been from the moment she approached him and asked if name was a stage name.

They danced a line - friends, Partners, something more - for so long. But no matter how many times he tried to leave her alone for her own good, he always returned.

She was a star, and he kept being pulled back into orbit. Things he’d taken for granted for most of his life - immortality, his Devilish charms, even his own emotions - betrayed him around her. She made him vulnerable. She saw him. He saw her too.

But when I try to remember

All the pain that we've been through

Something in me says, "Whatever"

And it brings me back to you

Her betrayal had hurt, somehow more than even his Fall…or maybe it was just more recent and the pain was the same. But he forgave her, as she had forgiven him all those times he abandoned her.

Even if she had succeeded in returning him to Hell, he still would have forgiven her. She was…well, she was perfect in her imperfections, as he was imperfect in his perfection.

They matched.

My stupid heart don't know

I've tried to let you go so many times before

Then wound up at your door, my stupid heart

Too late (oh), already on my way

If we go down in flames again

Then you can blame my stupid heart

They were incredible. Inevitable. Perfect. And when they finally stopped running away from each other, the true beauty of the symphony of their love unfurled like a blindingly white pair of angel wings. 

It didn’t matter, all the things that came before, except that they helped them reach where they were now. Together.

Titles had seemed so important in the beginning. Devil. Angel. Detective. Mother. But in the end only one thing mattered: Lucifer Morningstar and Chloe Decker loved each other with a strength that could rival gravity itself.

When it came down to it, neither could deny the chemistry that had sparked from that first moment. Lucifer would even come to realize later that he’d almost met her five years earlier - and even then, his ancient soul had sensed it’s match.

I've tried to let you go (oh, shit)

So many times before (okay)

You can blame my stupid heart-heart

Too late, already on my way (oh, shit)

If we go down in flames again (okay)

Then you can blame my stupid heart

They were each other’s guiding lights, a safe port in the storm of their chaotic Celestial and human lives.

Maybe that was why they always returned to each other. The heart wants what the heart wants - be it inside an ancient being made of starlight and Divinity, or in a simple mortal human crafted of dust and the Will of God.

Come to think of it, that last bit went for both of them, too. After all…they were a matched set.

Too late, already on my way

If we go down in flames again

Then you can blame my stupid heart

Chapter Text

The Devil stands in front of a polished obsidian mirror, his hands trembling with barely concealed rage as he fastens the buckles of his Infernal Steel armor, checking each one meticulously.

Exactly one million years in Hell time has passed since that horrific day in the LA Coliseum. He can still smell Chloe’s blood on his hands, still feel the echo of her final heartbeats. He can still feel how her body went limp in his arms as Azrael spirited the Detective’s immortal soul to Heaven.

A million years in Hell is a little over eleven and a half days on Earth, after all. It hasn’t actually been that long.

But today is the day he’s going to keep his promise to his Detective - he’s going to see her alive again today. He’s going to get her back.

Or he is going to die trying.

Does no one know, who they're dealin' with?

Think I'll let it go?

Forget and forgive?

The rage in me (Yeah?)

Is terminal. (Yeah?)

There's no remedy (Yeah?)

But to...

Burn 'em all!

Amenadiel had convinced Michael to spare Lucifer’s life after Chloe’s death abruptly started the all out battle, and Lucifer’s keening cries over her body brought it to an end. The white-winged twin was done - he was broken. He would have let Michael wipe him from existence in that moment. Instead, he was simply banished to Hell (again).

But his twin has always been the vindictive sort. In an act of cruelty disguised as a misguided attempt at mercy, Michael ordered Jophiel to take the Detective’s body to Hell as well - just to make sure Lucifer “didn’t forget her face”.

Nothing organic rots in Hell. Like Sleeping Beauty, her body is still laid out on what amounts to a shrine in his chambers. Not in his bed - though she had been for a time - eyes closed, in clean clothes he’d stolen from her apartment in short jumps topside. If he was careful and fast, Michael didn’t seem to notice any trips he made to grab things.

He turns to face her now as he settles the breastplate over his chest, the black stone embedded in the center emitting a deep purplish glow like a warped version of Iron Man’s Arc Reactor. “Well, darling, how do I look?”

She doesn’t answer, of course. But he hears her voice in his head clearly as if she was standing in front of him. ‘Just be careful, Lucifer,’ the echo of his love’s voice says. Always the pragmatist, his Detective.

I still got a job to do

My mission's incomplete

Only a fool would consider making peace

My twin has to pay

For what he did that day

For what he took away!

It had been less than two weeks on Earth. He knew Beatrice was still staying with Daniel’s parents, and didn’t even know her mother was dead.  If all goes well today, she may never find out.

Or, you know, all of reality may simply end. Either way, he is certain of one thing: this time, his twin will not survive.

Storm's comin'

I can see the clouds

No runnin's gonna save you now!

And hard rain is gonna fall down like gravity

Like gravity!

The stone in his breastplate hums with a beat like the echo of a dying star. Lilith’s immortality forged in the Lake of Fire with an unbreakable melding of Celestial, Infernal, and Earthen Steel, his armor and weapons were new. All imbued with his own Lightbringer power and shaped with the remaining Will of the Demiurge, which now flows through his veins anew, lit by the pain of grief, love, loss, and anger.

With these tools, he will return to Heaven for the first time since his Fall. The Immortality in his very armor ensuring that his Banishment will not matter one bit.

Eye for an eye says you owe me a debt!

Blood demands blood gonna get my hands wet!

The flood's comin' now you can bet on tragedy

Like gravity!

He whirls and glares into the obsidian mirror, his own face warping into his scarred twin’s sneering visage. Lucifer stares at the reflection, hissing quietly like the Snake history claims he once was.

“I would have spared you, Brother. Without Amenadiel having to advocate for it,” Lucifer growls at his imagined twin’s face. “I would have taken your wings - but I would have spared you. That tells me I’ve always cared for you far more than you for me.”

You think you're Heaven’s great savior?

Will you still when I return the favor?

Take the ones you need

Make you watch them bleed

Will you break thinkin' how you couldn't save ‘em?!

He has targets in mind.

Gabriel as the primary  - he hasn’t forgotten her betrayal, fetching Azrael’s Blade for Michael when Lucifer had just asked her to deliver a message. He still doesn’t want to kill any more of his siblings if he can avoid it…but if he has to? She, Michael’s favorite sister, will be his first target.

Jophiel, who had not even voiced a token protest when asked to carry the Detective’s body to Hell. He’d left her body on the throne - the better to get in and out of the hated Realm as fast as he could. He didn’t even arrange her comfortably - she was just dropped there like a sack of potatoes. Jophiel would be a target if he couldn’t get to Gabriel.

Fuck, why couldn’t he have rushed to Chloe when she pulled the key from the Sword? Why didn’t he fly her up into the sky and away as soon as she had it?

Why hadn’t he been able to save her?

Wishin' you were there when they needed you

The only soul who's ever completed you

Maybe then you'd get a little heated too

And understand why this is what I need to do!

He walks out onto the balcony, looking down over the assembled masses of Lilim. They’re alternately rowdy and silent - all hyped for the battle to come, and likely more than a little scared to be literally facing Heaven.

Despite Lucifer’s fame for the Rebellion, it had been bloodless. This wouldn’t be.

Every Lilim is mounted on the new demonic horses he had forged in the very bowels of Hell. Looking like a combination of firey Kelpies and bats, with their massive wings and Clydesdale-like builds, these new Hellhorses were nearly indestructible.

He has had every one tested - only those that were able to shrug off Celestial Steel strikes are allowed to survive. He had no place for weakness in the last army he ever intended to command in battle. The herd has been culled until only the strongest remained - one horse for every Lilim. Wings to break plane and carry the army of Hell into Heaven.

Each mount has a Hellhound perched with their Lilim riders. The dogs will launch from their perches the moment they enter the Heavenly Realm. He is counting on the instant chaos the assault will provide. He only has one main target - his twin.

Storm's comin', I can see the clouds.

No runnin's gonna save you now

And hard rain is gonna fall down like gravity

Like gravity!

Lucifer stands tall and spreads his wings. It’s time. “I’m coming for you, my love,” he whispers to himself. Louder, he addresses the assembled army.

“My Lilim, your King is asking much of you today!” He booms from the balcony, his voice carrying across the silent masses . “Today, we storm Heaven, and we do not return without your Queen!”

A massive roar comes from the Lilim, the Hellhounds howling and the horses snorting Hellfire. All know of their queen - her body kept safe within the King’s chambers - and all of them know what he is willing to do to protect her.

The examples he made of Dromos and the other rebels are still very clear and fresh in their minds. No one will dare cross their King again, and all remaining are willing to lay their lives down for him or his mate.

Lucifer holds his wings aloft, primaries sharpened into deadly blades, and lifts his sword high. “For the Queen!!” He launches himself from the balcony, eyes fixed on his goal. He hears the Hell Horde behind him, their steeds powering their way through the ash-choked air, battle cries sounding around him as they break through the planar barrier and surge into Earth’s atmosphere.

A few more beats of their wings and they are breaking down the Gates. And Heaven is not prepared.

“I’m coming, Chloe. I’m coming, my beloved,” he thinks as he flies. The army slams the Gates open and enters  into the Silver City with the ferocity of rabid wolverines. Lucifer locks his eyes with his black-winged twin as Michael swoops toward them - his reinforcements beginning to scramble behind him.

The armies of Hell and Heaven face off. Michael looks thrown - Lucifer isn’t even feeling his Banishment. And the Devil smirks at the real fear he sees on Michael’s scarred face.

Lucifer knows what his twin is thinking. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to ever be able to get here. And the very fact of him leading an army of mounted Lilim into Heaven changes any odds his “Godly” twin was betting on. And neither of them need Uriel’s talent to know that most likely today is the end.

Today, the Devil will kill God. Today, he will get his Detective back. With a roar, the Horde of Hell charges.

Eye for an eye says

You owe me a debt!

Blood demands blood, gonna get my hands wet!

The blood's comin' and now you can bet on tragedy

Like gravity!

Chapter Text

Lucifer Morningstar had never been as self-reflective as he had been in the last few days and weeks. Sure, he was in therapy, but as the good Doctor liked to point out, he usually jumped to the wrong conclusion first and made things worse before they got better.

After his breakthrough moment in front of his Detective, when he felt his body - including his wings! - return to its original Angelic perfection, however, he started doing a lot of thinking.

Reconciling his dual nature was not going to be easy, and he knew that. But after some consideration, he’d also come to the realization that he WANTED to do it. And, well, the Devil was never shy about following his Desires.

During his time trapped in the Penthouse as his body slowly betrayed him, he’d had a lot of time to surf the bloody internet. He’d done an online Mixology course as an attempt to stave off boredom, and it had only slightly worked.

However he now knew how to make some bloody amazing cocktails, and one in particular was forefront in his musings. It was called The Mirage, and consisted of one ounce each of coconut rum, vodka, tequila, peach schnapps, vanilla schnapps, and triple sec. Basically every clear booze in a standard bar, combined into one Celestially strong drink.

And he had one brother who he knew had never met a clear booze he didn’t like. No, not Hadriel (though that sibling was on his mental reconciliation list), and not Amenadiel (though due to the concoction’s Froot Loop-like flavor, he would probably love it too and Lucifer was already planning to make him one), no…his clear booze-loving brother was none other than his twin, Michael.

After all, when you start on a journey of personal self-reflection & forgiveness, you’re supposed to begin with “the man in the mirror”, as MJ had once famously sung. And while he knows the sentiment was aimed at self-consideration, he figured that beginning with the one person in Creation that shared his face was a good start too.

And that was how he came to be out on his balcony, two disarmingly clear drinks on the table next to him, the dehydrated orange slices on the rims the only thing that showed they weren’t just glasses of water. He stared up at the sky and for a split second considered asking his Father if he wanted a drink instead. The likelihood the bastard would respond was nil, whereas there was a good chance Michael would descend if he asked - he’d never tried before, but they were TWINS. Some things about Michael he just knew.

Sometimes it made him worry about what things about HIM that his twin was just as certain of.

Michael and Amenadiel had been the ones to chain him after the Rebellion and his Trial. He’d injured Michael’s shoulder and wing as he’d begun to fall. The sound of his twin’s scream of pain stuck with him even as he suffered his own firey torment. Amenadiel, he had forgiven over the last few years. And now it was time to take the step with Michael. He put his palms together, closed his eyes, and Prayed.

‘Michael, brother…I, ah, I have a lovely drink down here that I think you will enjoy.’ He paused, then continued aloud, “Michael…Mikey. I need to talk to you. Please.”

Prayer was a funny thing between Angels. It went beyond just the words. There could be images, emotions, just…basically anything the X-Men claimed could be done with telepathic communication. And Lucifer knew he was taking a risk reaching out. Amenadiel hadn’t come around without being forced to live among humans. Rae-Rae hadn’t reached out to him until he realized she was ‘haunting’ his favorite Forensic Scientist and reached out to her first. Would his twin be any different?

Or worse - did Michael hate him?

It was a thought he always pushed away when it came, not wanting to deal with the very possible reality of it. But the longer the silence stretched after his prayer, the more agitated he was becoming. He considered hurling both drinks off the balcony and seeing if he could get the glasses to smash against the building across the street.

The Detective probably wouldn’t appreciate him showering random passers by in broken glass and alcohol, though, so he resisted the urge. Instead, he lit a joint and took a drag. It would take him a whole tin of these to get well and truly stoned, but one would hopefully calm the tightness in his chest and the sting in his eyes at his twin ignoring him.

Then Michael landed behind him, just in front of the open balcony doors. His raven-black wings twitched and shifted uncomfortably. His right wing twisted and the corresponding shoulder hitched with ancient pain. When Lucifer turned to look at his twin, he couldn’t keep the surprise or guilt off his face.

His twin still carried the injury from the day of his Fall. And it looked…bad. The pain must be constant, from the way Michael held his body and his face, and though the Archangel was obviously used to dealing with the chronic injury, it was still a shock for Lucifer to see.

They stood there for a long moment, the joint smoldering in Lucifer’s hand, identical eyes locked on each other. The Devil took in his twin’s clothing - not Vestments like Amenadiel. The dark-winged twin had a casual, comfortable vibe going with a soft deep blue turtleneck and a nice pair of dark jeans. Lucifer, of course, was wearing a full three piece suit.

In some ways, like the color of their wings and the nature of their Gifts, the twins had always been perfect opposites. But something about their choices of clothing for this meeting drove that home to Lucifer in a way that it hadn’t been before.

He lifted one of The Mirages and held it out to Michael, trying to tempt his twin closer. “It’s called The Mirage,” he said, trying for a light, friendly tone. “Given the proclivity of yours towards clear liquors, I thought you might enjoy it.”

Michael eyed the drink, and the weird round ice ball and orange slice inside it, then looked back at his brother. “You really just called me down for a drink?”

Lucifer gave a tight smile at the sound of his twin’s voice. He was mistrustful - which, he supposed, given what the humans had said about both of them throughout history, wasn’t actually surprising. After all, Satan had never called Saint Michael down for a drink before. He put the drink back on the table and pushed it closer to Michael. “Yes, well, I’ve been having some personal issues lately and I thought perhaps-“

“You thought if you asked me down for a drink, everything would be alright suddenly? After what you did to me?” He gestured with his injured wing, then almost immediately winced and gave a growl, furling his wings away with some pained effort.

Lucifer winced and sighed. A year ago he’d have accused his twin of unnecessary dramatics…and he still might be right. He was, after all, an expert on the topic, himself. But at the moment all he felt was sympathy. And guilt.

“I didn’t mean to do that, Michael. I was-“

“Scared. I know. I felt your fear.”’It would have been so easy for Michael to make that sound creepy or menacing. But if his twin was going to drop his guard, well…the least he could do was lower his verbal sword. The next words were a whisper as he slowly approached and picked up the offered drink to sniff it. “I was scared, too.”

Lucifer stiffened as his twin came to stand beside him, both looking out over the City Of Angels, but forced himself to relax. This is what he wanted, after all. They were here, together, talking. And Michael had accepted the drink. So honestly things were going quite well for the moment.

“I was so scared,” Michael continued, speaking into his glass rather than looking at his brother. “Dad had never been so mad before. Mom wasn’t doing anything. And then He ordered Meni and I to chain you and send you to Hell…and I realised this wasn’t going to go away. That it wasn’t like that time with the Rose Spire, or when we knocked Zad into that glacier, or even when we-“

“-accidentally set off a supernova in Mom’s Sunroom,” they finished in unison, finally meeting each other’s eyes, small smiles of memory on both their faces.

Lucifer gave a soft laugh that his twin echoed. “I thought the three Days of shouting was going to be it,” he murmured. “I couldn’t believe it was happening. Sometimes I…sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I hadn’t been…Made like this.” He gestured to himself, and Michael nodded .

“I feel the same way…about both of us, honestly. I think Mom and Dad might have made some mistakes with us.” With that shocking statement from the Sword of God out in the open, both twins fell silent again. After a moment, as one, they sipped their drinks.

Michael’s eyes widened as he swirled the concotion around on his tongue and swallowed, looking at his twin. “This is amazing! It’s called The Mirage?”

Lucifer nodded, an easier and more genuine smile lighting his face. “It is! I recently took a Mixology course and the moment I learned of it, I thought of you.”

Michael looked genuinely touched, and took another, longer drink. “How did you even know I prefer clear liquors? When last we saw each other, wine was kind of the only thing on the drink menu besides-”

“-boring water,” they said together, and then broke into identical chuckles.

“Amenadiel mentioned it at one point when he discovered he likes drinks like Cosmos, and of course I asked him about it while he was drinking, so I actually got some bloody answers.”

Michael laughed at the mental image of the stuffy Firstborn falling in love with pink cocktails. Oh, he was so teasing him about that when he saw him next. He finished his drink and held the empty glass out to Lucifer. “Can I get a refill, brother?”

Lucifer grinned, finished his own drink and handed the joint to Michael when he took his twin’s glass. “Of course! Come on - I’ll show you how to make it.”

Michael trailed Lucifer into his den of temptation, smirking to himself a little at the thought. Saint Michael Tempted By Drinks With The Devil sounded like an unknown Renaissance painting. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the experience. He took a long pull off the joint in his hand.

******

The joints combined with the sheer amount of booze in the Mirages and the rekindling of brotherly affection lead to a series of odd decisions that neither twin could clearly remember.

At some point they’d traded shirts, with Lucifer now wearing Michael’s comfy turtleneck and Michael being surprised by how soft and comfortable his twin’s dress shirt was.

Another few Mirages (and joints) in, and they’d been playing a game on Lucifer’s phone. Lucifer even promised to take him to get his own tomorrow, if he stayed. He didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so Michael had agreed.

A wrestling match over the phone when they’d forgotten who’s turn it was ended up with both twins giggling like children as they’d simultaneously resorted to a tickle attack in an attempt to get the upper hand. This, of course, resulted in the phone being flung violently and embedding itself in the Assyrian wall. This just made both of them laugh harder, and redouble their attempts to make each other cry uncle. It was ultimately unclear who had won with it ending in a kind of giggly draw.

A few more joints and drinks later, and Lucifer had dragged out his karaoke machine so they could sing together like they used to. Neither of them wanted to sing their Father’s praises, or go to the trouble of improvising songs like they had when they were sculpting the darks and lights of the universe…so, karaoke.

The problem was that all the bloody duets on this thing were love songs…or things like Hit The Road, Jack, neither of which either of them wanted to sing together. They poured over lyrics and rejected song after song…until they finally found one they could agree on.

Lucifer began the duet, his voice soft and dark, following the lyrics on the screen.

“Mayday, mayday, the ship is slowly sinking

They think I'm crazy but they don't know the feeling”

Michael continued the verse - he certainly felt like this in the Silver City sometimes.

“They're all around me circling like vultures

They wanna break me and wash away my colors

Wash away my colors”

As if pulled by a string, both brother’s identical eyes locked on each other and they sang in Angelic unison and harmony as the chorus kicked in.

“Take me high and I'll sing

Oh, you make everything okay, okay, okay (okay, okay, okay)

We are one and the same

Oh, you take all of the pain away, away, away (away, away, away)

Save me if I become my demons”

Michael took the second verse, the song flowing through the two of them.

“I cannot stop this sickness taking over

It takes control and drags me into nowhere”

Lucifer continued, meaning every word just as much as his twin obviously did.

“I need your help, I can't fight this forever

I know you're watching, I can feel you out there”

They once again belted out the chorus at each other, identical sets of deep brown eyes stinging with eons of unshed tears. Twins, healing their connection with music and lyrical passion.

“Take me high and I'll sing

Oh, you make everything okay, okay, okay (okay, okay, okay)

We are one and the same

Oh, you take all of the pain away, away, away (away, away, away)

Save me if I become my demons”

They continued, the rest of the song sung together as one. And to both their surprise they felt their eyes ignite at the same moment - Lucifer’s gold, Michael’s silver. Just as they had when the twins had played among the Pillars Of Creation, sculpting their brotherly love into beauty that still astounded people on Earth to this day.

“Take me over the walls below

Fly forever, don't let me go

I need a savior to heal my pain

When I become my worst enemy

The enemy

Take me high and I'll sing

You make everything okay

We are one and the same

You take all of the pain away

Take me high and I'll sing

Oh, you make everything okay, okay, okay (okay, okay, okay)

We are one and the same

Oh, you take all of the pain away, away, away (away, away, away)

Save me if I become my demons

Take me high and I'll sing

Oh, you make everything (my demons) okay, okay, okay (okay, okay, okay, my demons)

We are one and the same

Oh, you take all of the pain (my demons) away, away, away (away, away, away, my demons)

Save me if I become my demons”

The instrumental outro played and both brothers lowered their microphones as the Divine Light faded from their eyes. They stared at each other, breathing hard, as if they’d just fought a horde of Lilim rather than simply singing karaoke together.

When they suddenly stepped close and wrapped each other in their arms, the decision was mutual and instant. The hug felt like…healing. Not like the home it had once been, but a promise that they would never stray so far from each other again.

Twins are unique - as ironic as that sounds. There is nothing quite like the bond they share. They make up their own games, languages, all sorts of things that constantly surprise anyone who research the phenomenon.

Even God, high above in the heart of the Silver City, felt the ripples from this first ever set of twins reconciling. He let out a slow sound of relief, and settled back in His throne - the very throne that His twins had spent a lot of their young lives snuggling in together. There was a parallel timeline where the twins hadn’t reconciled at this point, and He did not like where it lead.

At least He knew that in this timeline, He wouldn’t lose any more children. Not for a long time. And seeing His boys together again made Him think about what He’d absently heard Samael thinking before he had called for his twin.

Perhaps He was long overdue for a drink with His sons. Watching their lovely reconciliation was quite the temptation. He would only go if His presence was requested, of course. After all, He would never want to usurp his children’s Free Will. He hoped that His rebellious son would believe and understand that, someday.

Chapter Text

It started where everything did - literally - in the Silver City. Amenadiel had been existence’s first and only child for as long as he could remember. It was him, and his Parents, and that was Good. Dad said so.

Then one day, his world was shattered by a dual burst of Light and Dark. The Twins came into being within a split second of each other - not enough to matter in reality, but enough that Samael would always have the bragging rights of “oldest twin” - you can’t have shadow without light, after all.

At first, Amenadiel was excited. Two new playmates, both of them with their impressive and important Purposes, all united in the love of their family.

He bonded with the dark-winged twin first, making armor together. Samael seemed more interested in the Silver City’s ambient wildlife, chasing off after unnamed little fluttering creatures he called “flappers,” (but would one day be known as “butterflies”).

His twin was more focused, and Amenadiel felt amazing for having someone more than just Mom and Dad to talk to. Sometimes the three of them slept in a feathery pile in Mom’s Sunroom, or played together in the lake. It was, simply, Heaven.

And then the Twins invented “Pranks”.

The first time, he had absolutely no idea what was happening. One moment he was walking by the lake with Mikael and the next he was waterlogged and dripping while both twins laughed hysterically on the shore.

He’d laughed it off with them - it was rather funny when he finally managed to dry himself off. If only he’d realized that was just the beginning.

It's not easy having yourself a good time

Greasing up those bets and betters

Watching out they don't four-letter

Fuck and kiss you both at the same time

Smells like something I've forgotten

Curled up died and now it's rotten

I'm not a gangster tonight

Don't wanna be a bad guy

I'm just a loner, baby

And now you've gotten in my way

Amenadiel was miserable. IN HEAVEN. That wasn’t supposed to be possible. But as more siblings continued to appear, his responsibility as Firstborn increased, and while most of the time the twins were right there with him and wonderfully helpful…then there were days like this.

He had no idea what they put in his Dad-damned armor, but during the whole self-defense demonstration, he couldn’t concentrate because EVERTHING ITCHED. He felt like he was molting, but it was his whole body - except his wings. Everywhere the armor touched.

He made it through the demonstration (thank Dad), but when he thought he was alone, he immediately began ripping off his armor and scratching everything he could reach.

Of course that was when the curtains hiding him from the group of assembled siblings suddenly fell away and revealed him to the group, half-nude and desperately scratching like a canine beset by fleas. The riotous laughter that followed was to be expected, and no one was laughing louder than the twins.

He watched them fall all over each other in uncontrollable giggles, and glared as effectively as he could while still scratching.

He thought he might have to kill them.

I can't decide

Whether you should live or die

Oh, you'll probably go to heaven

Please don't hang your head and cry

No wonder why

My heart feels dead inside

It's cold and hard and petrified

Lock the doors and close the blinds

We're going for a ride

Amenadiel honestly believed that once Samael was Cast Out, at least the pranks would stop. For the most part, they did. Michael was never the instigator (though he had confided in Amenadiel at one point that he actually DID plan most of the pranks, with the white-winged twin  just adding his own flare to Mike’s basic ideas), and after his brighter half was condemned to Hell, he lost almost all of the playful spark the twins had shared.

Amenadiel liked this quieter, more studious Michael at first, but it was obvious that he missed his twin. The constant glances over his shoulder as if he expected Sammi to be there to laugh at his jokes or comment on what they were doing.

The reflexive actions faded in time, but Amenadiel couldn’t help but miss the way it had been - pranks and all.

The first time Michael tricked him into flying through a statically charged cloud that made all his feathers stand on end for the rest of the day, Amenadiel felt like maybe the family was starting to heal.

Then he heard that Samael was on Earth, and Dad told him to go take him back to Hell. It wasn’t hard the first time - Amenadiel menaced his younger brother until he stopped smiling and eventually skulked back beneath his proverbial rocks. Amenadiel thought that would be the end of it.

Oh how wrong he was, yet again.

It's a bitch convincing people to like you

If I stop now call me a quitter

If lies were cats you'd be a litter

Pleasing everyone isn't like you

Dancing jigs until I'm crippled

Slug ten drinks, I won't get pickled

Millennia later, and the Firstborn had a serious problem. An entire SECT of Father’s religion had immortalized via their scribes that his name, Amenadiel, translated literally as “The Pigeon-Head Of God.”

It was EVERYWHERE. He was depicted either with the head of a pigeon, or referred to as “the Glory of the Heavenly Squab”, and dozens - DOZENS - of other references.

Lucifer had been on Earth for awhile before Amenadiel caught him this time. He’d galavanted all over the province while the dutiful eldest Son of God had chased him. It wasn’t until weeks after he finally managed to get Lucifer back to Hell that he noticed what that sect was preaching.

It took over three centuries and nearly accidentally exposing humanity to Divinity twice before he finally managed to get rid of the Sect Of The Holy Pigeon’s legacy.

That was the last straw. Lucifer was about to find out that his eldest brother could pull a prank, too. He couldn’t wait to see how the Devil liked HIS new animal association…

I've got to hand it to you

You've played by all the same rules

It takes the truth to fool me

And now you've made me angry

I can't decide

Whether you should live or die

Oh, you'll probably go to heaven

Please don't hang your head and cry

No wonder why

My heart feels dead inside

It's cold and hard and petrified

Lock the doors and close the blinds

We're going for a ride

In fact that prank had worked a little TOO well, to be honest. Every time afterwards when he heard Luci rail on about how much he couldn’t stand goats, he felt a little guilty for the trick.

Then he thought about the itchy armor, the dunkings, the humiliation, the bees in his chambers, the mead explosion, the fourteen virgins his brother claimed to have been trying to set him up with, so much more - and of course, the Pigeon-Head of God - and he didn’t feel so bad anymore.

Oh, I could throw you in the lake

Or feed you poisoned birthday cake

I won't deny I'm gonna miss you when you're gone

Oh, I could bury you alive

But you might crawl out with a knife

And kill me when I'm sleeping, that's why

Time moved on, and so did their competition. Lucifer never stopped coming up, and every time he managed to pull at least one trick on his brother. Amenadiel never stopped being frustrated.

He also never stopped proud of the Devil’s unending association with goats. Not that he ever told anyone it was him who had done it. The best part was that he got to hear Luci complain about it and could play the sympathetic older brother, never letting on that he was the cause of his sibling’s vexation.

It was a pattern, a new way of being family. In some weird way the pranks reminded both of them that they were still brothers. It was familiar, and even comforting in a way - a constant despite changing Earth eras.

So when Amenadiel descended in 2011 to once again return his brother to the underworld, he pretty much expected at least one prank.

When he woke up from the mugging and realized he would need Lucifer’s help, though, even he had to admit…this time he’d basically played the trick on himself.

I can't decide

Whether you should live or die

Oh, you'll probably go to heaven

Please don't hang your head and cry

No wonder why

My heart feels dead inside

It's cold and hard and petrified

Lock the doors and close the blinds

We're going for a ride

Chapter Text

Azrael was hiding amidst the pillars and spires of the Silver City.  She sat down with her back against the wall of one of the residences and rubbed her eyes. If one more sibling called her “baby bird” for not wanting to fly, she might actually hit someone.

That would show them, she thought to herself, sniffling. Even Amenadiel had done it, though his teasing has definitely been the gentlest - just trying to urge her away from the area where everyone else was practicing flighted combat so she didn’t get hurt. And she knew that was why - but it still hurt.

It wasn’t her fault that she was small, or that her wings weren’t as broad as some of her siblings’. It wasn’t her fault that ever since she first tried to fly and her uncoordinated wings caused her to splat into the river in front of everyone, she’d been scared to try. Despite many siblings different attempts to help her…she just couldn’t get it.

Ok, maybe the scared part was her fault. But Michael told her it was ok to be scared - that he could feel that everyone was scared sometimes. And that being brave meant doing it anyway even if you’re scared.

But he’d been in the group that had just laughed at her, too, so now she didn’t know what to think. She hated feeling alone.

The unfamiliar road could be the same place you get lost and find yourself

There might be bumps, there might be bruises, but at least you'll have a story you can tell

Samael poked his head around the corner and smiled a tiny bit when he found Rae-Rae sitting on the grass near the dining hall. He walked over, wings furled, and sat beside her. “Hello, little Sister,” he said softly, and offered her a cloth scrap to wipe her eyes.

Azrael took it and did so, then started slowly pulling the cloth apart. “Thanks,” she mumbled as she ripped it lengthwise and stuffed half in her tunic pocket for later, and giggled a tiny bit at Sammi’s face. “I didn’t blow my nose in it.”

Samael made the face again, liking thst it made his sister laugh. “That is still gross. It’s used, Rae-Rae!”

“Not the part I kept! Just this bit.” She waved the other half of the cloth at her big brother who shrunk back as if it might bite him.

“Gah! I don’t want it back!” He was being over-dramatic and he knew it - but within a few moments of dodging the cloth he had Rae-Rae giggling again and honestly that would have been worth being touched by an icky cloth if she’d managed it. He snatched it from her with two fingers and tossed it in a nearby brazier, the holy fire incinerating the cloth immediately.

She was still giggling as he pulled her into a tight hug and it only got louder when he took the opportunity to tickle her a bit. She squirmed out of the hug and smiled at him. Sammi could always cheer her up. It helped that he was the only one of the Archangels who had never laughed at her for being unflighted.

Samael smiled back, then tilted his head in that way all angels did when considering something. “I have an idea. I want to take you flying.”

Her smile disappeared and she shook her head. “No. Nope. No way. My wings don’t even work right…”

Samael wasn’t having it. “Yes they do. We’re all perfect just as we are, Rae-Rae! That’s how Dad and Mum made us. You have wings - you can fly. They work FINE. You’re just uncoordinated with them. I can help.”

“How? By dragging me into the sky and dropping me like Remiel did? Or pushing me off a cliff like Zadkiel? Or any of the DOZENS of other ways our siblings have tried to teach me to fly? NOTHING works, Sammi…” She sniffled again. “I just can’t.”

He couldn’t stand seeing his favorite little sister so upset. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

She looked up at him (so far up! Why were he and Mikey so danged tall!?) and reluctantly nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then trust me with this. I won’t let you fall, little Sister. I swear it.” He held a hand out to her.

After a moment of hesitation, she took it.

Time will slip on by if you're stuck here livin' life with too much caution

And I know you know that those wings, they weren't made for walkin'

Oh, it's safe where you are

But safe only gets you so far

They walked together to the edge of the Great Lake, and Samael positioned himself behind his sister, putting his arms around her and pressing her back to his front. “Alright. I am NOT going to let go unless you tell me to, okay?” He unfurled his wings with a snap and a loud displacement of air.

Rae-Rae’s eyes widened and she clung to his arms around her. “Wait! I can’t even unfurl like this!”

“That’s the point, dear one,” he said in her ear, giving her a gentle squeeze of support. “Just let me fly and feel what I’m doing. Ready?”

None of her siblings had ever tried to teach her to fly by actually FLYING before. Her stomach flip flopped and she clung to Samael’s arms like a lifeline…but she did trust him. “Oka-YAAH!”

With two powerful beats of her brother’s brilliant white wings, they were airborne and among the clouds.

What if you look your fears right in the eye

Say you'll see them another time?

What if, for once

You can find the piece of you that you've been hidin', you've been hidin'?

What if you chase your heart out to the edge

Rewrite your stars and be brave instead?

What if you jump (hey)

And the fallin' feels a little like you're flyin', like you're flyin'?

Oh, my darlin', if you try

You just might kiss the sky

Azrael could feel her brother’s flight muscles working in his chest against her back. They leveled out a few hundred feet above the lake and he caught a thermal coming up off the braiziers nearby and began to lazily spiral them higher.

The view was incredible. The Silver City was glorious from all angles, but from up here it was breathtaking. The spires caught the light of the Morning Star, sparkling like diamonds, and the golden streets shone in the refracted light.

Suddenly she was having trouble remembering why she had been so scared.

“This is amazing!”, she shouted above the wind, and she felt more than heard Samael’s delighted laugh at her back.

“You’re doing great, Rae-Rae!,” he said happily. “Now, spread your wings!”

Oh, there was the fear. “I’ll knock you off me! I’ll fall!”

“Don’t unfurl - just spread them. Feel what I’m doing in the physical and mimic it in the ethereal.”

Oh! Oh, that she could do. Tentatively, she spread her wings in their pocket dimension, and began mimicking the movements of her brother’s physical wings. The wind couldn’t catch her wings like this, but the longer that they did the odd kind of tandem flight, the more comfortable she was becoming with it.

She felt his muscles shift into a banking turn and she mimicked it perfectly. It almost felt like she was the one flying now.

Ideas comin' to you like a spark that starts a fire in your mind (ah)

But ideas can only burn you if you always keep 'em locked up inside (ooh-oh)

“Okay,” Samael said. “I’ve still got you, but I’m going to let go long enough for you to unfurl, and then I’m going to catch your waist.”

Scared again, she twisted her head back to look at him. “No! Sammi, please don’t let me-“

“I promised I wouldn’t let you fall. I mean it. I’ve got you, Rae-Rae.”

His voice was calm minus the exertion of flight. He was absolutely sure he could do what he said, and she could feel it.

Her brother’s confidence gave her confidence, and she slowly nodded. When it happened, it happened so fast thst she barely had time to register thst they’d done it. She was now hanging arms length below Sammi, his hands secure at her waist, and her smoky wings had unfurled to match his.

Samael was an experienced flyer, one of the best of the Host if he did say so himself, and he had no doubt that he could adjust for the backwash from Azrael’s smaller wings. “Alright! Keep imitating me. You can’t feel my chest now so I’m going to tell you what to do. Slow bank left.”

Somehow both terrified and exhilarated, Azrael obeyed. They began spiraling higher again. But this was different - she could feel the wind and the lift of her wings. She could feel the thermal pressing them up with warm air that rose for miles. When they banked she felt the way her feathers seemed to adjust all on their own and her whole body felt alive like never before.

Sammi was still holding and guiding her - but for the first time she really felt like she was flying.

It was amazing. It was insane. It was beautiful. She was still scared, but Michael’s words echoed in her head - she needed to do it anyway. “Sammi?”

“Yeah?”

“Let go.”

He did.

Time will slip on by if you're stuck here livin' life with too much caution (oh)

So go out in this world and get every single thing you've ever wanted (mm)

Oh, it's safe where you are

But safe only gets you so far

For a split second, she felt like she would fall - but for the first time ever, her wings now seemed to know what to do. With two flaps and a slight angling of her wings and body as her brother had shown her, she caught the thermal and floated up beside her big brother.

“I’m flying! I’M FLYING!!”

“You’re flying!”, Sammi crowed in triumph, then did a barrel roll over her excitedly. “Well done, little Sister!”

She couldn’t believe it. Suddenly she felt like she’d been born for the sky - just like everyone else. She began to experiment, diving and swooping as she’d seen the others do all the time. Samael stayed right with her the whole time, even as they dove together and swooped right over the heads of Michael and Gabriel, whooping with joy.

Gabe and Mike ducked, then stared after the aerial pair.

“Was that…Azrael?!”, Michael said incredulously, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Holy Dad! She’s flying!”

Gabriel’s face lit up as well, and the two of them took off into the sky after their siblings, joining in the aerial games they were playing.

Gabriel pulled her horn from her robes and blew Attention as they flew. Everyone should get to see little Rae-Rae finally flying!

What if you look your fears (oh) right in the eye

Say you'll see them another time?

What if, for once

You can find the piece of you that you've been hidin', you've been hidin'?

The Host heard the Messenger’s Horn and all came outside. Even Mom and Dad emerged from Their chambers and looked up.

“Is that…”

“That’s Azrael!”

“She’s flying!”

The Father of all Angels put His arm around His Wife and They watched as the sky above the Silver City filled with Their progeny, all eager to congratulate their sibling on finding her wings.

His omniscience told Him what had happened, and He smiled as They watched Their children frolic amongst the clouds. This too was Good.

What if you chase your heart out to the edge

Rewrite your stars and be brave instead?

What if you jump (hey)

And the fallin' feels a little like you're flyin', like you're flyin'?

Oh, my darlin', if you try

You just might kiss the sky

you just might kiss the sky