Chapter 1
Nick slumped at his desk, tired after a long day of cases. Thankfully the latest had just closed, giving him a break from all that paperwork. He knew that even without a case, there would be mindless tasks to complete, and of course, a case would come up within days, but a man could dream. The problem was, all of Nick's dreams were nightmares. There was no happy ending for him, just the bitter torment of his continued existence.
The day ended, he left the station, glared at some newbie who was in his way, and walked to his car. It was cold outside, and he was glad he had brought a jacket. Nick could remember his wife's voice laughing and telling him to "put a coat on, you'll get sick.". The moment faded, and Nick jammed the key into the ignition with undue violence.
He lived a long way from the station. People had been telling him to move closer for years, quoting low prices and even leaving fliers passive-aggressively on his desk. But he couldn't make himself move out of his neighborhood. He needed the memories to keep him going in life, needed to see what he could have become, or what his family could have been like. As he pulled into the parking lot that was more cracked pavement than not, he noticed a man standing at the edge, watching the lot. Nick pulled his gun out of its holster. If something was going down, he better be ready for it. He got out of the car slowly, being sure to check every angle of sight. The man didn't move, so Nick began the slow walk across the lot to the slightly rundown apartment building he lived in. The man began to follow. Figuring he might as well fight on his own terms, Nick turned to face the stranger's arrival, hand itching to go for his gun. It was lucky he didn't, since as the man grew closer, Nick recognized his "pursuer".
"Lucifer, we needta talk. Like, now," the man declared.
Nick raised an eyebrow. "I thought we had an agreement, Trickster," he replied, his voice going dangerously soft.
"No, nothin like that, Luce. It's some real shit an we thought ya needed ta know."
Lucifer nodded slowly. Trick seemed more agitated than usual, so maybe he should hear the man out. "All right. What's up?"
Trickster shook his head. "it's bad, Luce. I mean real bad. Alastair's back in town. The big man heard something about it. Apparently he's at it again." Trickster tried to shrink in on himself. He knew that was never a good idea to bring the Devil bad news, but someone had to do it. He regretted ever volunteering in the first place as he watched Lucifer's face drain of all color and emotion.
"Thank you, Trick," Nick finally replied, breaking a long silence. He took a deep breath to try to calm himself. "You should go before I rip your fucking face off," he stated clearly and slowly. Trickster took the very obvious hint and turned to go. Before he left, though, he murmured a quick, "take care of yourself, man" and then he was gone, running off to a Lucifer-free zone.
Meanwhile, the man formerly known as Lucifer, now known only as Nick, but still an unholy terror, walked jerkily across the remainder of the parking lot.