Author's Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry about the delay! One, finals kicked my ass (but I passed, and that's all I care about), but then after my last final I immediately left the country for two weeks, and I didn't have time to work on anything. So after two weeks off, I feel like I'm a bit rusty, but I think this came out okay. I also might be a little delirious from my current bout of pneumonia (one day, I'll remember I can't stay in cities). Anyway - those are my excuses. Thanks for sticking with me through my vacation! On with the story!
"Are you sure you want to come on these visits?" Chloe asked for what was probably the hundredth time, but she didn't care.
Despite being okayed by the hospital as being perfectly healthy, Lucifer had done little more than fidget incessantly since she informed him they were going to go an investigate some of the known religious compounds near the city.
She actually hadn't asked him to come along. She was almost positive his answer would still be no, since that's what he'd say days ago when originally asked. But that was before Kaitlyn Kincaide tried to kill him, and before whatever happened at the last crime scene that landed him back in the hospital.
Most people didn't want to actively pursue someone who might want them dead.
Lucifer, however, wasn't most people, and he seemed to take it as a personal insult that he needed to repay in kind.
She'd told him no punching people, throwing them through windows, dangling them off the side of buildings, or anything else that would fall into the realm of assault and battery.
He'd agreed, but in that same way he agreed to most things – with zero intent of actually doing it.
"Well avoiding them doesn't seem to be working in my favor, now does it?" Lucifer grumbled. "And I'm getting tired of winding up in the hospital, it's very dull, very annoying, and the novelty of pain has long worn off. Besides," he huffed, tapping his long fingers against his knees. "Now I'm curious."
"Can you at least move your seat up?" Dan grumbled from the back seat.
"No."
Deciding two could play at this game, Dan pushed back in his seat and shoved his knees up against the back of Lucifer's, pushing the club owner forwards several inches.
"How about now?" Dan said, grinning smugly.
"Forward you say?" Lucifer asked, fumbling with the release handle underneath the seat. He pulled it loose, but instead of scooting forwards so Dan could have some leg room, he slammed it back as far as it would go, pinning Dan so that he was almost folded in half. "How's that?"
Not about to be outdone, Dan stuck his finger in his mouth before jamming it in Lucifer's ear. "Perfect," he said glibly, before throwing up his arms in defense as Lucifer twisted around in his seat to either punch him or return the favor.
"Enough!" Chloe shouted, and quickly tapped the brakes long enough to unseat Lucifer and throw him off balance and bonking the top of his head against the car roof. "I think I liked it better when you refused to be in the same car! You're worse than Trixie and her friends and they're actual children!"
"But –" Lucifer and Dan both started to protest.
"I swear to God, I will turn this car around. Do you want that? I will go an investigate the compounds myself because then at least I would know that I was going to get somewhere. So shut up, sit down, Lucifer – move your seat up, Dan - keep your hands to yourself and both of you - no more fighting."
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," Lucifer grumbled, but reluctantly moved the seat forwards.
"She gets like this when she's been in the car too long," Dan said, massaging his knees where Lucifer's seat had rammed into them.
"Not a fan of road trips, Detective?" Lucifer asked, smiling broadly. "Wasn't it you who waxed poetic about how patience is a virtue?"
Without warning this time, she grabbed the road atlas jammed into her door side pocket and smacked the back of Lucifer's head, and then because he thought it was funny, she reached back and swatted whatever she could reach of Dan – all without taking her eyes off the road.
"Shut up!" she snapped. "You wanted to come, remember? I told you that you didn't have to, but you wanted to come anyway."
"Had you lead with the fact that you plan on abusing us with geographical aids, I would've reconsidered," Lucifer said.
In truth, as irritating as they were currently being, Chloe was just happy that the old Lucifer seemed to be back. Gone was the sullen and withdrawn personality he'd fallen into since the first body showed up. Now he was back to annoying everyone within ear's reach and more importantly – he looked healthier. She couldn't really explain it, because she hadn't really been able to put her finger on it when it was happening, but it was like the last few weeks, Lucifer was looking…duller. She'd noticed he'd been looking unhealthy, but she hadn't realized just how bad until now. The difference in him was night and day and she still didn't know what the change was.
Dan maintained he had no clue, and Lucifer looked at her like she was the one losing her mind when she noted how much better he looked.
Because according to Lucifer, of course he looked fantastic. To suggest otherwise was clearly a sign of dementia. Vanity, thy name is Lucifer Morningstar.
At long last, they were finally at their last destination. The entire morning had been spent investigating the other two compounds and finding nothing of interest. The residents at the Zion Church and the Holy Trinity were closer to what Dan immediately deemed hippies than religious cultists. They had less to do with religion and more to do with living off the grid in a communal neighborhood – growing their own food, homeschooling the children there, and practicing sustainable living, not human sacrifice.
Even Lucifer cleared them, and that man had a rather disturbing ability to determine the guilty (even if he was often wrong about the motivations).
Which lead them here, to the very outskirts of their search area, to a compound called Three Rivers Community Church. Besides its street address, Chloe hadn't really been able to find anything on it. There was a basic webpage, with a picture of the front gate they'd just driven to, and proclaimed all were welcome and that was about it. A vague mission statement of living in peace and harmony with God, and that was it. Not even a 'like us on Facebook' button.
"This is the last of the compounds that made our list of possibilities. Our last vic, St. John, had a lot of credit card activity in the area and supposedly sublet from someone in the area. So keep an eye out for anything unusual, and Lucifer…please, don't wander off."
"When have I ever done such a thing?" Lucifer protested, stretching as soon as he got out of the car. The unmarked car they'd taken wasn't nearly as roomy as the Crown Vic cruisers, but Chloe decided she'd rather sacrifice the leg room in favor of subtlety.
Besides, her leg room wasn't getting compromised, because she called driver.
"How about at every crime scene you've ever gone to?" Dan grumbled, popping his back and grimacing. "I call shotgun on the way back. You can sit with your knees up your nose for once."
"I can't help that you're more appropriately travel sized compared to the rest of us," Lucifer replied glibly.
"I am three inches shorter than you," Dan protested snidely. "Not exactly a lot."
"And those three inches put you in the backseat."
Before Dan could protest any further, or before Lucifer could make any other comments, they were interrupted by the sudden appearance of another person.
"Can I help you?"
The middle aged woman hardly looked the part of deranged cult serial killer. She was average height, a little taller than Chloe. Her brown hair was swept back in a bun that was starting to come unraveled, wisps that were starting to gray coming loose around her face. Thin framed glasses hung on a chain around her neck, and pale gray eyes were edged with crows' feet. She had no makeup, and everything from her jacket to her shoes were plain and sensible.
"Hi, I'm Detective Decker of LAPD, and this is my partner, Detective Espinoza," Chloe gestured to Dan, who inclined his head slightly in greeting.
"Delilah," the woman introduced. "And he is?" she asked, looking pointedly at Lucifer when Chloe failed to introduce him.
After the last couple of introductions not going so well, Chloe hesitated to give Lucifer's real name, but the club owner had no such problems.
"Sorry about that, she's not intentionally rude," Lucifer said, smiling charmingly. "People tend to react poorly when given my name…Lucifer Morningstar, at your service." He gave her a quick tip on an imaginary hat. "Yes, it's my real name."
The woman shrugged, but Chloe caught the beginning of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "We have a girl here named Heavenly Messiah and a young man named Arrow. Lucifer is not the strangest name I've come across."
She turned back to Chloe. "Detectives? What brings you out here?"
"We're investigating a case that involves someone who may be from this community. Do the names Kaitlyn Kincaide or Michael St. John sound familiar?" Chloe asked.
Delilah shrugged again. "We have a lot of people come and go through here on a regular basis. Not a lot of them even give their real names. It's more like a way station than a final destination for most folks. You're welcome to come and check the entry books though – the owner likes to keep track of how many people come and go for tax purposes. This way." She gestured for them to follow her, and she lead to the small, cottage looking building to their left.
The compound, from what little she could see, didn't seem exactly ominous. Less church-y than she would expect, too. It looked more like a hostel, which would back up her story that it was more of a passing through point than a long term occupation.
The inside of the building wasn't any more sinister than the outside. Sparse, with few decorations and a check in desk like one would find at a hotel. A young man sat behind it, writing in a handmade notebook.
"Julian," Delilah greeted, smiling pleasantly. "These are detectives from the city. Do you have the guest registry so they can take a look?"
Julian glanced nervously between the two detectives, but smiled when he saw Lucifer. "Hey, man, been a while!"
Chloe and Dan simultaneously glanced back at Lucifer who was hanging back unobtrusively, and he looked just as confused as they did.
"Pardon?" he asked, frowning. "Do I know you?"
"Dude, I know it's been a long time, but seriously? You forgot me? It's only been five years," Julian said, smiling broadly.
"Lucifer?" Chloe asked. "Do you know him?"
Lucifer shook his head. "I most certainly do not. Not unless he was at Lux at some point, and you can hardly fault me for not remembering every face that walks through there."
"Julian?" Delilah asked, prompting the young man who was looking thoroughly dejected at not being instantly recognized. "How do you know Mr. Morningstar?"
Julian looked just as baffled as Lucifer did, and as Chloe felt. "That's Sam," Julian protested, pointing back at Lucifer.
"What?" Chloe asked, echoed almost simultaneously by Delilah.
"Sam?" Delilah repeated, frowning. She looked back at Lucifer, studying him carefully. "You mean the director's son?"
Julian nodded fervently. "Yeah!"
"Sam as in Samael?" Chloe asked.
Lucifer flinched, hard, at the name. "That's not my name," he growled. "It's Lucifer."
"Julian, go get Mr. Anwar," Delilah ordered. "He can straighten this out. But get us the book before you go, okay? The detectives would still like a look at it, I'm sure."
Julian nodded mutely, digging a large lime green hard bound book from the desk's drawer. "This is all the entries for the past couple of months, Doc," he said, opening to the last entry page. "From this morning back to January."
With that, he took off out the back door, not quite at a run but not exactly walking either, presumably to go and find the mysterious Mr. Anwar.
"What the hell was that about?" Dan asked, looking worriedly at Lucifer.
Chloe couldn't blame him. Upset would've been the understatement of the year to describe Lucifer right now.
Incandescent with rage might be more appropriate.
"Someone's poor idea of a joke," Lucifer snarled. "I have never been here before, I have no idea who that little bastard was, and I am most certainly not anyone's son."
Chloe felt a little torn – on the one hand, Lucifer was more than convincing that he had no knowledge or memory or even hint of a connection to this place. But the rational half of her, the part that wasn't blinded by the fact that she considered Lucifer a friend (one of her best friends, if she was honest), was perfectly aware of just how good an actor he could be. Or, more accurately, how firmly rooted in denial he could be. The name Samael clearly meant something to them and to Lucifer, and she already knew he had Daddy issues. Was this where he came from?
Except, that didn't really make sense either, because if he spent so much time trying to get away from his family and that identity, why would he willingly come back? Had the church changed names? Did he just not know? Or had he completely blocked it out? And if the people here were lying…why?
"Who's Samael?" Chloe asked, ignoring the way Lucifer shuddered at the name.
Delilah shook her head. "Mr. Anwar's son, the director of Three Rivers. I personally never met him, and the director doesn't like to talk about him, but they had some sort of a falling out years ago. It was before I even got here. Julian's one of our longer term residents, though, and he's not normally prone to flights of fancy." She picked up her glasses, studying Lucifer through them before letting them drop down again. "Your friend looks like he could be related, but that's a convincing accent if it's fake."
"It is not," Lucifer snapped.
"The book?" Dan said, clearing his throat and pointing to the ledger. "It is why we're here, right?"
Chloe shook herself. She was a professional. She didn't normally let herself get distracted by things like this. "Right. Sorry." She turned it around so she could flip through it, scanning quickly through the names. Several Kaitlyns, more than a dozen Michaels, but no matches. It was a long shot, especially since they were both considered runaways and at risk – in all likelihood, if they had signed the book, it wasn't their given names.
"How long have you been here, Delilah?" Dan asked.
The older woman scratched the back of her head, causing more of her hair to come loose. "Maybe three years? I don't live up here, I just come up every couple of weeks."
"So you don't know the day to day people? The ones who are possibly only here short term?"
Delilah nodded. "I know Julian, and a couple of the families, and of course, Mr. Anwar…but sorry, no. I'm not here often enough to know everyone."
"Do these two look familiar?" Dan said, showing her the pictures of Kaitlyn and Michael, as well as the other two victims who they hadn't identified yet.
Delilah peered closely at them, but she eventually shook her head. "Sorry. I don't recognize any of them."
"Why did he call you 'doc' just now?" Lucifer asked suddenly, dark eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Who?" Delilah asked.
"The spindly one who has memory problems and seems to think he knows me," Lucifer said, gesturing towards Julian's vacated seat. "Are you a doctor?"
Delilah frowned, but nodded. "Yes. What of it?"
"What's your specialty, Doc?" Lucifer said, making the title sound like a slur. "It wouldn't happen to be phlebotomy, would it?"
It suddenly occurred to her what Lucifer was getting at. He'd been over the case notes enough, had been at all the scenes – he knew that the person they were looking for was suspected of having a medical background and Delilah was the first medical professional they'd come across at any of the compounds.
"General practitioner," Delilah said, her own eyebrow rising in mirrored suspicion. "I was with Doctors Without Borders for several years, but now I have my own practice just outside the city. Why?"
"Where were you on the nights of March fifteenth, thirtieth, and April twenty-first?" Dan asked.
"No idea," Delilah said, her frown deepening. "Probably the same thing I do most nights. Stay at home with the cat, a book, a falling asleep by eight thirty because I've been up since five in the morning treating everything from nosebleeds to broken bones."
"That can't really be it, can it Doc?" Lucifer said, devilish grin spreading across his face as he stepped closer. "Is that what makes you happy? Is this really what you want to be doing? Treating scraped knees and expired vaccinations in some dingy little backwater church cum hostel?"
Delilah blinked, and shook her head. Chloe recognized that look in her eyes – that same 'what the hell' look everyone got that Lucifer tried his bizarre tricks on.
Sure enough – "No, I think you're far more ambitious than this," Lucifer said, almost sweetly. "Tell me – what do you really desire?"
Delilah half shook her head before she was already replying. "To make sure that no one loses a child through something I can prevent. That no family has to suffer because they can't afford a doctor."
Lucifer's smug little smirk evaporated as he rolled his eyes, sighing irritably. "Wonderful. An actual goody two shoes with good intentions. Just perfect. She's not the one you're looking for."
All four of them jumped when the back door slammed open, almost knocking a nearby framed picture off the wall.
A man, dressed head to toe in white stood on the threshold, one hand still on the door and breathing hard like he'd run the whole way to get there. Julian stood just behind him, looking anxious. His dark eyes flitted from Delilah to Chloe to Dan before they rested on Lucifer.
Chloe could see what Delilah meant by the resemblance. The man had the same dark eyes, the same dark hair – even though the area around his temples were starting to gray – very close in height and similar facial features.
"Mr. Anwar?" Chloe asked.
The man didn't answer, but he didn't really have to. As soon as his eyes met Lucifer's, she could see them start to look suspiciously glassy.
"Samael?" he said, voice shaking. "Is that really you, son?"
So there was some light hearted fun in this one. The first scene is definitely how my friends and I were acting when we were in the car touring England.
I'm also going to let you guys in on a secret: I can now tell you, you've actually met the bad guy. The question you have to ask yourself is: is it because I just introduced them? Or is it because I now have potential red herrings to throw you off the trail that I can say you've met them? Decisions, decisions.
Also - overwhelming numbers voted in favor of "I wanna see Lucifer suffer, but I want to see him get better" - this fic will probably be novel length with the hurt and the recovery bits. Just an FYI.
Another thing: because someone asked, I cast in my head scruffy Mads Mikkelsen as Michael, Colin O'Donoghue as Gabriel and either Robbie Amell or Matthew Goode as Raphael. This might matter to you, it also might be my sleep deprived and fever addled brain telling me that it matters. Who knows. Read and review! I MISSED YOU GUYS!