Lucifer's picture received enormous attention almost the moment that it went live. His phone exploded with messages from casual acquaintances, close friends, one-night-stands and frequent callers, and it soon became a trending subject in the city of Los Angeles under '#TheBratPrince'. He quite liked that nickname. Perhaps it was too rash a decision, but he hardly cared. He had a reason to celebrate, and in the same breath he had thrown his beloved city on its head.

He laid on the sofa with Damian as he slept that night. Lucifer found himself staring at him as the moon crawled across the sky, brushing the hair out of his face, admiring the flutter of his eyelids and the twitches of his mouth. Every noise seemed to disturb him. A car horn blared outside and the child's eyes snapped open, wide and panicked as he sat up in the direction of the sound. His father calmed him with a forgotten pair of fluffy black earmuffs he had received from an old flame. It was as close to silent as he could make it, and after an anxious hour Damian had soon settled into a fitful sleep against Lucifer's chest.

The Devil knew then that he could not have stomached leaving his son alone in the purple rooms. Amenadiel's warning had not fallen on entirely deaf ears, but as he watched Damian's difficult rest, felt his weight against him, he could not imagine fearing Michael's wrath. His presence was enough to weather the storm, if the storm ever came.

"Rest up, Dami," he murmured into his earmuffs, his thumb rubbing rhythmic circles against his shoulder. "Tomorrow's a whole new world."

Damian responded with flickering eyelids.

Los Angeles was bright and vibrant and full of people, and the police station reflected that. Chloe Decker sat at her desk, scouring new case files, as her colleagues filtered in and out of their office space, arms laden with coffee and crime.

She was concentrating on a particularly interesting double homicide when Lucifer's voice broke her focus. Chloe looked up to see him enter – and behind him, dressed in a new tailored blue suit and fitted with a slim and sleek pair of earmuffs, bounced Damian.

"Detective!" the Devil said as he pulled a chair out from an empty desk nearby. She stared at Damian when he sat down, and he met her gaze with wary interest.

"Who is this?" She asked, pointing her pen at the boy. Lucifer smiled and readjusted his blazer when he replied.

"This, Detective Decker, is my son, Damian Morningstar," he announced. "The city of Angel's new brat prince."

"That was true?" She exclaimed. "Someone came by my desk earlier and mentioned a picture she'd seen of you. I thought it was a prank."

"Nope, all true. He looks just like me, doesn't he?"

Before she could respond, Dan walked up to them with a takeaway coffee cup in one hand and a file in another. The man smiled with a raised eyebrow when he saw Damian, setting the file down in front of his ex-wife.

"And who is this little guy?" he asked.

"Ah, Detective Douche!" Lucifer welcomed. "Meet my son, Damian."

"You have a son? I've never heard you mention it."

"No, neither have I," Chloe said. Her eyes were tinged with faint disappointment, and her mouth was cocked to the side as if she had just found out an irritating secret.

"Well of course I wouldn't mention him – I thought he was dead for millennia! It's only recently I've found out he's alive." He replied, to which both Dan and his ex-wife's heads recoiled and a short, stunned silence settled over them. Then Chloe waved her hands in front of her face as if to physically dispel the air.

"Ignoring how much of that sentence needs to be unpacked," she said, "I can't believe you have a son and you've just never talked about him. Though it does explain your pretty intense aversion to children."

"Like how you treat Trixie like she's a rash."

"Yes, well, that's your child – this one is mine. And he's infinitely more interesting."

Chloe put her hand in front of Dan's stomach so that he could not step forward, though his annoyance showed clearly on his face. "Why is he wearing earmuffs?"

"It's for the noise. Helps him acclimatise to city-life after being in purgatory so long."

The detectives' faces contorted with confusion, but again Chloe waved her hands to dismiss his answer.

"Where is his mother?"

"Dead, I'm afraid. Slaughtered in a Holy war."

She pressed her hand to her face and let out a little huff of frustration. "Alright, fine, fine – don't tell us."

"Hey, little man," said Dan as if to ease the tension. "I was just about to run to the vending machine. Do you want to come with, pick out a snack?"

Damian looked at Lucifer with apprehension. His father smiled and nodded, encouraging the boy to follow with a gesture and a soft word of reassurance. He stood and edged nervously towards Dan. He was small compared to him, perhaps even nervous to be in such close proximity. Lucifer settled in his seat as the detective took his son's hand.

"A word of advice, Detective – if you hear him start to hiss, try to run." The Devil called after them, and, after a brief look of bewilderment from Dan, the pair vanished up the stairs. Chloe noticed how Lucifer watched his son until the soles of his shoes had disappeared from sight. His expression was warm and proud, and the smile on his face reminded her of her ex when he looked at Trixie.

"So," she ventured. "This is new."

"Yes, he just came home yesterday," Lucifer replied.

"Do you have a plan to take care of him? A room? Food? Clothes?"

"You sound dangerously like my brother. Rest assured, Detective Decker, it's all under control." He leant back in his seat and looked at the stairs, as if he was waiting for the moment he reappeared. "I'm quite concerned, actually."

"Concerned? You?"

"Yes." He rested his arms on her desk. "He hasn't spoken yet. Should I be doing something? Is there a special trick to it? I haven't exactly spent much time around children. Voluntarily, I mean."

Chloe looked at him for signs of deceit or misdirection. But when she saw that he was genuine, her approach became more sympathetic and she uncomfortably touched her shoulder as she considered her reply.

"Well, have you had him seen by someone? A professional, maybe?"

"A professional? You might have to be more specific – in my line of work, you meet a lot of 'professionals'."

"Like a psychologist," she said. "They might be able to figure out if something's wrong."

"Like Doctor Martin?" Lucifer sat back and folded his hands across his stomach. "Yes, yes, you might be right. That's a brilliant idea, Detective."

"I've been known to have them."

"I can take him just as soon as we're done here."

"Done here?"

"What's our case? Bank robbery? Murder-suicide? Autoerotic asphyxiation? Come on, what seedy part of Los Angeles are we off to pick apart?"

"Wait, where will Damian be?"

"With us, of course!" he replied. "I don't want him to miss out on the experience of passing punishment."

"Are you insane? He can't come with us!"

"Why not?"

"Hm, let me think," she started to count her fingers. "Firstly, there's no way I'm letting a minor see a dead body. Secondly, we deal with real and serious crimes with real and serious risks. Thirdly, our job isn't a game."

"Then what am I supposed to do with him when I'm here?"

"Get a sitter!" she told him.

"And entrust him to the hands of a university student with dreams of stardom? I think not, Detective. Me, perhaps, but not him."

"Look, Lucifer." Chloe leaned forward and stared in his eyes to emphasise her point. "Part of parenting is about balance. We, as parents, have to know what's appropriate to share with our children and what's not. In this case, it's not. It's really, really not."

The man stared at her, but before he could respond his son scampered towards him with an armful of snacks and a very confused Dan trailing behind. Damian dropped all but one of his treats on the floor and started to tear at it, and Lucifer reached over to unwrap it before he could bite.

"Dan," said Chloe, "how much did you buy him?!"

"The machine must have been broken or something. I picked something, it got stuck against the glass, told the kid to hit it and the entire front smashed."

"Yes, you've got to watch out for that," Lucifer said. Dan shook his head and started to walk towards his desk, his hands held up in defeat.

"That's enough Lucifer for me today. I'll see you later, Chlo."

Chloe waved at him, but her attention never wavered from Damian and Lucifer. The man watched his son as he ate, smiling and content, and she wondered if she had ever seen him fawn over someone before. When Damian finished his first snack, he was handed another almost as soon as the last crumb had disappeared. Despite his lack of knowledge, his father did appear to love him. Perhaps that was enough for now.

"Lucifer – take him home. Spend time with him." She told him. "I'll handle this one."

"But I provide so much to your investigative process. How will you cope without me, Detective?"

"I'm sure I'll manage." She stood and picked up her keys from the desk. "Take him home, find a sitter. We'll talk later."

Chloe departed into the din of noise that was the police station, leaving Lucifer and Damian on their own. Lucifer watched after her with a protest on his lips, but soon sighed and relented.

"Very well, then." He said. "Come on, Dami. Let's find our own trouble."

The corvette revved through the streets of Los Angeles to the beat of 'Stole My Heart' by the Beasts With No Name, Damian with a fast food cup in hand and a straw in his mouth and Lucifer with his sunglasses on and a smile stretched wide across his face. The wind ruffled the child's hair and he bounced to a rhythm he could more feel than hear. Every now and then his father glanced at him staring wide-eyed and a touch alarmed at the hills and houses around them; the enormous buildings and clubs and strips of high-class, high-priced entertainment.

Damian wondered what Lux would look like once the night began. When he and his father had left the penthouse, he had seen it afterhours. It reminded him of his dreamless sleeps, constantly waiting for another moment of life, another sound, another drink and song to shake off the bleakness of reality.

The corvette passed a rather large building that almost reached up into the sky. Damian looked up to see the tip – and up on that rooftop, he saw an odd sight that settled uncomfortably in his chest.

It was a man; a handsome man, no doubt, with stark white hair and tanned skin, dressed in a red robe that went down to his black-clad knees and sat just a few inches above his thick boots. But when he saw him, Damian thought he recognised him. He thought he was a man who had once been very, very unkind to him.

The child reached over and tugged at his father's arm. Lucifer glanced at him, and looked behind them when he pointed to the tip of the building.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "I don't see anything."

Damian twisted in his seat until he could see the building receding in the distance, threatening to pop the plastic lid from his cup and spill its contents all over the corvette's custom interior. Lucifer glanced between the road and his son, and he saw on his face a deep and troubling confusion.

"Dami?" he said. "What did you see?"

But Damian did not tell him.