A/N: Hey people, so I wrote this to try and get myself off of writers block and to grasp a better understanding of Luci in general. I'm role playing him right now on Xanga and I want to make sure that I really have him before go writing off the wrong character. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Disclamer: I do not own Supernatural unfortunately lol It would be nice though :D


When Love is a Sin

He was so misunderstood.

Everywhere he went, everything he said, and everything he did. Was it really deserving of such unjust treatment? No one understood him, not his brother, not even his own Father. There was a time where he was the most beautiful and beloved angel. He was his Father's favorite and most precious son, adored and loved. But though he had God's attention he never had Michael's. The two brothers fought and bickered all the time, many of their battles stemming from the fact that he was different. Though they fought he still loved his brother, loved him unconditionally. All he wanted was Michael to accept him for who he was.

All he wanted was to be normal.

Yes he knew that he was very unlike his other brothers and sisters. They treated him with indifference, cold shoulders being more common towards him. If a human saw this they would call it jealously, pure envy. He was often shunned and ignored to the fact that not only had he seen their Father but talked to him and was loved by him. It was hard living his existence to only be appreciated by one person. They wondered what made him so special, why was he granted God's presence and the others not so much a word?

He didn't know why, he just knew one thing.

That he loved his Father and would do any and everything for him.

He had his off days were his Father and he would fight all day and night as humans would call it. Some things were small and others were a little above that. But Lucifer knew how to love. He loved so much to the point where it hurt, to the point where it left him in shambles. He refused to let anyone see this side of him; after all he would be ridiculed, laughed at, and shunned. What angel loved?

But no matter what the argument, who was wrong or right, or even who started it; Michael always chose Father. Always and forever, no matter what. Michael was so loyal, so devoted to their Father that Lucifer could never compare. Yes he was the Morningstar, the most beautiful angel, and beloved. But none of that mattered; all he wanted was to be accepted. All he wanted was to be at his Father's side like Michael was to him. All he wanted was Michael to acknowledge him like their Father.

However when the day came, when God told them to love the humans more than him, Lucifer could feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. He had given his all, his everything to show his Father his unfaltering love for him. He remembered that day, so clearly. He remembered running through the garden of happiness, the heart of heaven itself.

He could not and would not love those things more than his own Father, they were undeserving and callous creatures. It was so hard for him to understand God's plan, why he had demanded this of his children. How could he betray his own Father in such a way?

And then there was how he talked of them, of his flawed creations. He spoke of them with such admiration, such appreciation, such adoration. Like he was proud of what he had done, as if they worthier of his love, greater than the children he already had here. He spoke of them unlike he had ever spoken of Lucifer before, he could literally see the joy in his Father's eyes, the glimmer very different from how God saw him.

As he thought more and more, he wondered if he had loved too much. Was he too clingy, did they not talk enough? For centuries it had just been he and his Father chatting away existence with smiles and laughter. Was that not to his liking? Had God had grown tired of him, was he not good enough?

Maybe he was being replaced.

That stopped him dead in his tracks; he stood there in the middle of the bountiful garden surrounded by moonbeams, marigolds, calla lilies, hydrangeas, and flowers of all kinds. Reds, violets, yellows and any color you could think of filled his vision. It was like a sea of hues, shades, and tints accompanied by the chirping of birds and the warmth of the sun.

He could feel the heat of it on his back as he fell dead center to his knees amongst a bed of marigolds, their sunny yellow faces smiling at him as they swayed in the wind, trying to ease his sadness but that would not help. His hands clenched the dirt beneath his knees, the first sobs and whimpers of anguish rising within him. He could not believe the thoughts that crossed his mind. Betrayal, abandonment, rejection; the thoughts were endless but one remained the same. He was being replaced without a doubt, his Father had seen enough of him. Lucifer, as he saw it was no longer beautiful, beloved by the one who mattered. After all what was beauty when no one you cared appreciated it?

Soil from the ground filled his nails and dirtied his hands as he dug them deeper in an effort to keep the tears away. He fought, battled, and failed against the emotions that consumed him. He had been holding them in for so long, for too long that he couldn't stop them. Soon he became overwhelmed and with the first piercing cry he broke the dam that an angel was never supposed to tear down.

He allowed himself to feel for the first time.

Semi-large hands, shaking with angst and overwhelming rejection found their way to his face as immense sorrow brimmed over, flowing rivers from stunning azure hues. He cried out hysterically, wailing and sobbing like a small child. Dirt from his hands stained parts of his face, mixing with the tears that spilled from saddened eyes. He hyperventilated uncontrollably, his entire body feeling as if he were to explode. Nothing could ever truly describe the pain he felt at that moment, the torture he brought upon himself. What he was doing was so wrong, so sinful but he couldn't stop. He just couldn't stop.

One might describe his pain as dying, from a human perspective. Every aspect of him was slowly wasting away, his beauty, his intelligence, his charisma, it was all melting away leaving the ugliness, the pride, and the jealously behind. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could think of to stop this change. Even amidst the sobbing and sniveling all he could think of was how he could show his Father that he mattered. That he didn't need to replace him with little ungrateful hairless apes.

He covered his face in shame, shielded it so that no one would see him weep. It was unheard of for angels to have emotions, such a thing if discovered was punishable without question, it was the greatest sin that an angel could commit. Even so, broken sobs still scrawled and heaved with tortured gasps from his chest as he cried out, a piercing wail echoing through the garden.

"Why..." He whimpered softly as he rubbed his face with open palms, ruffling his hair with a gasping pause. He stared at the flowers that surrounded him, immense anger pulsing throughout his entire core. They stared back at him, their smiling faces trying to bring him happiness, some sort of sense of comfort. But he would not listen, he would not accept. Who were they to try to make him happy? Happiness was for fools.

Without warning he tore at the Marigolds with a bellowing scream, ripping them from the ground in a giant fit. Tears still fell from his cerulean orbs as he did so, howls of frustration ripping out from his chest. Handfuls of the unlucky flowers along with clumps of dirt flew through the air during his tumultuous onslaught, his hands hitting the ground with brute force, deeply scarring the terrain in its wake, his body slumping over with the blow.

With a final bout of overwhelming feelings he picked himself off the ground, flames echoing in and around him, mercilessly exploding through the garden with a final roar to his Father,

"Why am I not good enough!?"

He realized there was nothing left when he stood and surveyed what he had done. The soil had blackened, glowing bits of ash and cinder blanketed over the ground, a jagged, fiery scar splitting the once heavenly garden in two. No more birds, no more flowers, no sun, just darkness; empty and vast.

A part of him felt remorse but another felt it was how it should be, this was how he was inside. This wasteland of a garden which was once gorgeous, bountiful, and filled with life was now barren, a shell of its formal self. It was a mirror; it was him staring back at himself. He refused to look at it any longer but he could not leave. He knew he only had a little time left before Michael came for him, and his time in heaven was up.

He fell back to the terrain beneath his feet, his knees hitting the ground with a loud thump, His azure hues falling on the sky, a single stream of tears falling from his eyes. He didn't say a word, didn't even think. He just sat there quietly in the heart of heaven, waiting.

In the garden that would never bring him true happiness.

Even till the end, Michael chose their Father over him. Yes he knew deep down what he had done was wrong but he felt that Michael would help him. That, like he had done with their Father, would stay by his side and they could fix this together. Michael and he had the same views, there would be no way he would cast his brother away.

He envisioned them standing before their Father, just the two of them putting their feet down in respectful objection, speaking against Creation, pleading with their Father to change his mind. Once this had begun their other brothers and sisters would join in and pay their views on the matter. He knew for a fact that he wasn't the only one that would disagree on the Creation of these humans. He was not left alone, well.

It turns out, loyalty is stronger than love. He pleaded, begged, cried and nothing swayed him.

The Morningstar had fallen to the ground.

He was a freak, a monster, sick and twisted. Michael's words cut him deeper than any sword. In all honesty, those words were the straw to his back. He could never forget them, even through the hundreds and thousands of years he spent in his Cage, those words continued to eat at him. The moment were his brother betrayed him consumed him endlessly.

Love and loyalty were one in the same. How could Michael not see this?! To love someone is to be loyal towards them. Lucifer's mistake was not realizing what his brother had felt. It was all too much to bear, having his wings clipped by his older brother, by the brother he looked up to and loved unconditionally. If it was the opposite and Lucifer was to choose, he knew without a doubt he would have taken his brother into his arms and braved it together. But that was just a dream, a thought lost in time.

He had been left to rot in eternal damnation, to hear his name be slandered and cursed for the evils of the world and its problems, but the greatest torture was knowing that the day would come where he would be released and have to kill the brother that he loved the most. That judgment day would come and he would be granted his wish. He would be able to destroy humanity at the cost of his own brother's life. Michael would not stop until he perished, that he knew. But despite it there was a part of him that wanted none of this, that wanted nothing to do with fate. Why did he have to follow it? Weren't his heartbroken scars deep enough? Hadn't he suffered enough?

Had he not loved God so much he wouldn't be here.

Had he not loved Michael so much he would have never fell.

He broke the rules of all angels; he somehow had learned the ability to feel. Love was his crime and his greatest, second to his pride, his pride in his brother, his trust that he would save him from damnation. With icy hands pressed to lips just as cold, he sat in the corner of his cage, thinking of what was to come. He would wait for the day were his true vessel would walk the earth.

This vessel would be the only person in all creation that would understand him. They would be alike, his vessel and he. He would understand his pain and suffering, his tears and anguish. He would be the only person Lucifer would be able to connect to. It was something he had waited for his entire existence. He could be on his side and Lucifer on his. He would share a bond like no other with this person.

He would not become angry with him, he would not strike at him, and he would not run him away. He would give him nothing but the utmost patience, listen to every word he had to say, and even if he refused him he would try and try again, even till he was blue in the face. He knew he would come to love this person and appreciate his existence like no one had ever done before.

It was the single glimmering ounce of hope he had left as he sat in the cage.

He prayed this one would understand him like no one else had.

If Michael had just helped him, maybe just maybe...

Maybe it would have been them against Creation, only it wouldn't have ended in betrayal.