Lucifer didn't want to kill his younger brother- he really didn't.

It shocked the exiled angel to see his baby brother in front of him once again, all blond, long locks and hazel eyes that had lost most of their forgotten glimmer. He hadn't thought of Gabe for some time, for centuries even. He hadn't thought of him since the moment he stopped hoping father would take him back, the moment he lost hope his family would see what was to him common sense and obliterate the humans that had swallowed so much of his father's time and energy (and love, and devotion, and pride, and a thousand other things that Lucifer lost when the plentiful swarm of squealing creatures was created). The moment he lost faith that things could return to the way they were so long ago, that they could be content and at peace, together, once more, Lucifer flung his happy memories far into the recesses of his own mind, trapped in their own sort of cage.

Gabriel had been the cause of most of those happy memories- the golden-haired little brother who saw the good in him even when he himself began to doubt its existence, who sat by his side and listened to his stories with an adoration in his eyes that never faltered (until that day He cast Lucifer out, and the falling angel had looked desperately to the one member of his family he still loved). Gabriel, the angel with the amber eyes that never seemed to dim, who Lucifer had loved more than anything, but who he couldn't love enough to drown the monsters of jealousy and rage within him.

Gabriel had been the center upon which these happy memories had revolved, and as a result, he and his significance was erased as well.

Yet there was baby Gabriel again, his hair a shade darker than when heaven's light still shone upon it, his eyes a little sadder and more desolate as he pleaded with his older brother to see sense, and for barely a moment, as Gabriel told him he couldn't kill him, Lucifer felt something more than faint surprise still in the depths of his icy heart, a faint flash of something more, because of course Gabriel still loved him, his baby brother, the trickster, still pleading after all these years (but with eyes that already looked like they had half lost hope) for his family to get along. The instance was evanescent, so that it may have been no more than a trick of grace, and then he was Satan again, hell's own lord, and the angel Gabriel (his baby brother) lay dead in his arms (he had watched the golden light seeping out of his eyes, the hope finally dying as his silver dagger pierced his body).

Lucifer didn't want to kill his younger brother- he really didn't. He had loved Gabriel, a long time ago, before their father had created those wretched humans and he had watched the angel fall, captivated, under their spell. But the icy climate of Hell, after so many years, had overtaken his heart and soul nearly absolutely. Truly, though, his fall had not been sealed completely until that moment, his transformation finally irrefutable in the death of his baby brother, Gabriel, the angel the devil loved most.