Yet again, Lucifer found himself on the run from his big brother Michael. After fleeing from Hell, he returned to Earth, near to the indoor play area since it was a reasonably good place to start from; Michael wouldn't expect him to go back to where he just left, and he could work out the best place from there and possibly return if he got lost. The archangel couldn't stay in Hell, as Michael would find him eventually, and Heaven wasn't an option. No, this was the Devil's best chance.
Although Lucifer preferred to work independently (he'd had to learn that after being kicked out of Heaven), he reluctantly admitted to himself that he required the assistance of demons to cover his tracks. If he summoned a few and informed them of his situation, they would be bound to help, as he would simply kill them if they disobeyed him. Lucifer was sure there were still many loyalists remaining, and Crowley would have neither the time nor the nerve to inform all of the creatures of Lucifer's arrival, let alone poison their gullible minds against him.
The archangel, despite being out of practice, still had the mojo to conjure up the correct ingredients for a demon summoning ritual. The only thing left he needed was a location where he wouldn't be noticed or deemed conspicuous. As Lucifer wound his way through the streets, searching for a suitable abode, a seemingly abandoned warehouse came into view, looming over any object, living or inanimate, in the vicinity. Shadows haunted the dusty windows and crept into cracks in the rotting wooden planks that smothered the exterior. A shimmer of slimy mould also coated the wood, absorbing what little light was left of the day. It was perfect.
Lucifer approached his newly discovered destination with a slight hint of caution mixed with suspicion; was it too good to be true? So what if it was – he could easily overpower any forces sent to capture or kill him. Bring it on, he thought as he stepped confidently through the creaking door. But no angels swamped him or hunters stabbed him with any angel blades (or rather archangel, but Lucifer sincerely doubted a human would be able to get their hands on one of those). It was genuinely just an abandoned warehouse.
The Devil's empty footsteps echoed coldly against the smooth stone floor as he paced towards the back of the room, preparing for the ritual. Just as he was mid-way through assembling the components, Lucifer hesitated. He sensed something wasn't quite right about the whole setting, as if it was a figment of sorts. That was when it clicked.
"Gabriel… I have to admit, you had me fooled for a second there." A purple shimmer appeared in one corner of the 'warehouse', rapidly transforming into the youngest archangel, who remained insouciant yet this time lollipopless.
"You're getting slow in your old age, Luci." Gabriel mocked playfully as he moved across the room, his cheeky grin ever present. "And I was warned you'd look a little different, but boy I was not expecting this!"
"It's good to see you again, brother." Lucifer spoke earnestly, ignoring the provocation concerning his childish meat suit. He gazed at his little brother with almost a hint of pride in his eyes. "I'm not too surprised that you managed to elude me before, you're getting rather good at your hoodoo tricks."
"You'd better believe it, bro. I had a lot of practice, being in witness protection and all, before you and your damn parties dragged me back in the game. Believe me, I know parties. And they are not being… not-stabbed with an archangel blade. Now you've had your fun, and I know it sucks when it's over, but the Cage is the perfect holiday home for you." The trickster made no attempt to conceal his distaste for his brother's constant escape and murder endeavours as he continued to casually pace up and down the room.
"Gabriel, I… I never wanted us to fight. I still don't. I know how much you despised the fighting and arguing in Heaven – it's why you left, after all. We don't have to be on opposite sides here, if you could just join me-" Lucifer knew his bid to convert, no; convert was the wrong word… win over the archangel was pretty much pointless from the off, however no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop wishing he could sympathise with him. Or empathise, even. That's what family is for, right?
"Join you? Ohoho, you are one selfish S.O.B. This has all been about you, hasn't it? Your stupid little plan to get people on your side, use them to destroy humanity, just to turn on them and stab them in the back – you've not changed one bit! And you know what? You never will. You'll always be the jealous toddler who kicked his toys out of the pram and went on one big childish tantrum just because his daddy didn't love him. I love you, Luci, I do. But it's impossible to work with you the way you are, and things are never gonna change. The only way to make things even slightly right is to ground you like an unruly teenager, because when it comes down to it, you're nothing more than that." Throughout this speech, Gabriel had gotten angrier and angrier, opposed to his usual carefree attitude, but venting his frustration had helped a lot, so he calmed down fairly quickly.
Before Lucifer could reply, a flapping of wings could be heard as Michael landed outside, and then strolled into the warehouse, a concerned look upon his face. A brief glance at Gabe told him all he needed to know; that his failed efforts to talk persuasively to the Devil had only succeeded in maddening him, and further ruining their brotherly relationship.
"Lucifer." Michael greeted the archangel, staring anxiously at him.
"Michael." Lucifer retorted in a sarcastic voice.
"Hey, Mikey! Glad you're here, you've been missing all the fun." Gabriel soon regained his usual witty self, clapping his hands together to lighten the mood a little.
"I told you not to call me that." Michael frowned at his little brother, before turning back to Lucifer. He gave him an odd look due to his bizarre choice of vessel, however didn't comment on it. "We have you cornered now, there's angel proofing so you can't teleport away or summon anything to you. You may as well talk."
"Talk? What is there to talk about? You want me dead, or at least back in the Cage, even though I haven't technically done anything wrong-"
"You've done everything wrong! Betrayed your family, murdered and twisted so many innocent souls. You deserve everything you get." Michael was up in his brother's personal space now, grabbing a handful of fabric at the front of his shirt and glaring furiously down at the angel inhabiting the boy. Lucifer changed tactics by challenging his brother.
"Even if you were to trick me back into the Cage, I already know this is an illusion, so how exactly do you propose to trap me in?" A flash of hope glinted in the archangel's eyes as he pointed out the fatal flaw in their little scheme.
"Like this." The two oldest archangels turned their heads towards Gabriel, Michael's hands still locked onto the front of Lucifer's shirt in a threatening fashion, both brothers with an identical questioning look on their faces. That was the last he saw of the disputing duo as he clicked his fingers. The illusion of the warehouse shattered instantly, revealing them to be back in the ball pit, Michael and Lucifer hovering directly above the entrance and exit to the Cage. After a moment of complete motionlessness, the brothers fell straight into their personal prison, where they would likely be spending the rest of eternity, hopefully without interruption this time. The hole into which they plunged closed up after a second, yet again swallowing up the two archangels.
A child who had (unbeknownst to Gabriel) witnessed the whole incident stood beside the trickster and stared at the ball pit for a second, before turning to gaze silently up at him, as if expecting an explanation.
"What?" Gabriel asked, looking down at the child innocently. "They were both pretty annoying anyway."
