Chapter 37: Improvise, Adapt and Overcome. Repeat PRN.

A/N: "You can't see it yet, can you…your time on Earth is affecting you; you're changing." "My life is change." "True, but usually you're the one controlling the change. This time you're not."

[ - ]

The mountain house was cold, empty and felt like a mockery of its name. Even though this was where he stayed most of the time when not working or traveling, Lucifer had yet to be back here since the accident. Mazikeen walked through the empty hallways and rooms…she'd rarely been here. Like the shore house, she found it too isolating; too quiet…and herself too prone to the introspection she was so uncomfortable with. She wandered aimlessly, not sure herself what she was supposed to be doing, only that something – different – was clearly needed. Hating that feeling of uncertainty as much as others did. On the top floor the same two doors Canaan had found locked were closed to her as well – as they always had been. The sweep of stars visible through the huge windows on the main floor brought her no comfort. These stars were bitterly cold and distant. The artificial stars of the human cities evoked the light, warmth and activity of Hell for her; the sole way to feel close to the only home she knew other than Lucifer himself. She'd been created there: she'd never fallen away from anything and knew no different. She'd enjoyed her capabilities, her dominion and the respect of the one who made her. It was rare the Lord of Hell got involved in the minor trivialities on that plane; he left that to her discretion. And she relished that role…excelled in it. When he'd begun to show the strain he always felt; his discontent turning to distress and decided to leave she had not understood why. But she was willing, no - eager to follow. How could she not be? She was needed. He needed her, whether it was to be overseer of the dominion he hated, to cleave a path for him in this plane or to give him the best version of the companionship he lacked that she could. She didn't have to understand him completely to be dedicated, it was her function she excelled at in any capacity…but she understood more now. And these lessons were some of the hardest to learn.

The demon walked downstairs. Her footfalls echoed on the wooden steps, then the stone floor, the noise a comfort. Strike then sound, cause and effect. Exact, precise. As she was. She turned to look back up at the magnificent subtlety of the blended wood staircase, knowing she could not appreciate it as he could. Not needing to. She ran delicately strong fingertips over the formidability of the lower newel post. She admired the inherent strength in the structure; she understood this purpose. The exquisite blending, the craft…this she did not understand so well. If the function was not improved, what was the point? Sighing, she walked down the hall, gazing out the window next to the rarely-used front doors. Snow and ice, rock and trees. Random life: growing, moving, consumed and being consumed as it would. Missing her fire, brimstone and clear-cut organization of the subjects of Hell. No randomness there, other than by what necessary punishments that may be required. Again, under her orchestration. She turned to walk the other way, feeling the vise of frustration lace tighter over her chest. She wasn't deficient in her nature: she was created as an exquisite, intelligent self-aware tool. One with her purpose recently clouded. New growth in unexpected areas. Hating that loss of control, again as others did.

Mazikeen noticed a door open on the end and entered. A room with soft gray walls. She flipped a switch and the two nightstand lamps threw soft colors randomly over the rumple of white sheets and comforter. She sat on the end of the bed, looking at the small piles of un-Lucifer-sized clothes folded on the bench in front of her. Plain. Simple. Subtle.

She understood that differently now as well. The human wasn't as simple as her outward appearance. The subtle, unassuming shell, like these clothes…used for protection like a potholder against heat or a glove against bitter cold. That Lucifer understood somehow, as Maze could not.

She felt a strange pang. She'd seen that odd flash from Canaan's eyes that night she'd followed her from the lobby but had ignored it. Ignored what it could mean…and had never said anything – even to Mena. Mortal life was so…transient. She'd never understood any immortal's fascination with them, Lucifer particularly. What was the point? If they were sent to his father he'd never see them again after death, and if they turned up in Hell…well…he'd have time out of mind to play with them however he saw fit...he was the Lord of Hell…she still found it baffling that he'd abdicated that sole role. Abandoning that clarity of definition she craved. It took seeing him in the context of his brothers to truly appreciate their differences. That Lucifer was more than Hell's sovereign; although that had always been enough for her. No, he was a fallen son, first and foremost the pinnacle of archangels. This was how he truly thought of himself, not as she'd always thought of him. He needed cohesion of all his schism and she could not help him do this, could not perform as she always had. At least not yet.

It frightened her that she was learning differently. Fear of self-uncertainty was not what she'd planned on as a side-effect of these lessons with Amenadiel…not that she'd planned on him, either. Unexpected. She'd never done 'unexpected'. And although difficult, was not finding it entirely unpleasant. She could feel the wry smile cross her face. Subtlety in distinction…oh these new things…but she could use some help. Thinking to herself that not so long ago, even that alien thought would have been enough to make her rage at the vagueness. Now she sought answers.

Someone else could understand this. More so than any other in all of existence. From the inside out, as she needed to. Mazikeen closed her eyes, disappeared, gave only a cursory snap to the surprised eyes at her new destination and then reappeared in front of the cold fireplace upstairs at the mountain house with her counterpart.

Cearrebus looked up at her, paced briefly around the room in evaluation and looked out of the huge window at the night outside. Hackles slightly raised and a low growl in his throat. No danger present now, just remembered animosity at his failure. He was a guardian too, and his role had been compromised. His master had been damaged, albeit indirectly and the creature was distressed over it. The huge animal sighed and circled back to where Maze was sitting on one of the chaises. He lay on the other, front paws crossed and chin resting on them, looking at her. She smiled sardonically.

"Are you supposed to be doing that?"

She laughed at the crystal blue eyes, glowing slightly in the dim room as they widened and half-closed again as if to say, 'who's stopping me?' An opportunist, like her.

Maze came to sit on the floor next to him, running her hand over his muzzle and paws. Looking at the new scars, angry on his behalf. "She did that to you, that weak human. Her actions marred you permanently. What do you think she'll do to him if unchecked?"

The dog relaxed his mouth open, that wealth of ivory destruction that was scary here but the stuff of living nightmares in his Hell visage. He looked up, in thought. Closed that fanged trap with a low moan and looked over at her. Tilted his head away and glanced at her sideways, chiding. Maze could essentially feel his tight, sharp thoughts as only she could, not even Lucifer had the ability to communicate with him like this, 'foolish demon. i chose. damage not done to me; for her protection. for her for him. for him, as i am. as you are, yes?'

"I was." She said this softly, and slapped away the growl of rebuking nip on her neck. "Stop! I am, you know this. I just don't know…how…anymore. I've always known what he needed. Now he doesn't, so I don't either." Same chiding low growl. 'don't be weak. unbecoming of you.'

"You don't understand. We're not the same…" She stopped as he sighed and turned his head away from her, annoyed. 'no, not the same. i don't surrender. ever.'

She sighed herself. Is that what she was doing?

'now, yes. do not. fight. fight with new skill if old is not useful. we were made strong. first creations of first son. improvise. adapt and overcome. yourself first if required.'

"You're right."

Cearrebus turned his head back toward hers, muzzle laying against the back of her neck. Neither was prone to comfort, either giving or receiving as Lucifer himself was not. Not at the point of their design and only with difficulty now. But like him, they were unique together in all of creation and although different, more similar to each other than any could ever be.

"You know what Amenadiel knows."

Low canine sigh of assent behind her.

"I can't fix that. I can't make that easier for Lucifer."

'not our role. we don't need to. he does. we just need to be present.'

"I have to talk to Amenadiel…tell him what I saw."

'yes. you do.'

"He'll be angry."

'you don't know that. besides, fear does not become us, now does it?'

She laughed. Simple, strong. Exactly what she needed. "You're changing too. But not struggling like me; like any of us really. How is that?" Cearrebus raised his head, looking down upon her. This was no mortal creature. No mere pet. And although his form here was fierce, it was not his true one. The vast power of that shone through the regal blue eyes, blazing at her through the dimness as his snarl lifted the sharp white teeth into view. Coming close to her face, teeth bared.

'i am strong. always. i discard what would make me weak. not attached to what would make me weak. no false pride. i do not fight the inevitable: i adapt. i change. nothing bests me, not even me. bring next, bring new. new experiences mean new skill. means i get even stronger. woe be to those which may thwart my work. now cease your self-indulgence and get on with your own. we are made strong. act it. be it.'

"Thank you." She needed to hear that, feel that exactly as he'd delivered it. She stifled a minor chuckle at how fast this creature could run Linda Martin out of business. "I'll ask Mena here." The dog relaxed again, huge jaw resting on the paws beside her shoulder.

'do that. i respect him.'

"I do too…more than that as well." She said this softly, then smiled a little as a cold nose nudged the back of her neck hard.

'and that is a new skill. makes you stronger. adapt and be done with it. get next skill. i tire of your whining. bite you, give you reason to whine.'

She laughed again. Formidable as she was, a bite from Cearrebus was no trifling matter. "One last question."

The animal sighed. 'stalling…'

"No, I'm curious…'

'…using new skill. good. finally.'

"Stop! I have to ask…why do you like her? You'd not met the others, is it just because he introduced you to this one?"

'what is this 'like'? i am for him. she feels for him. also strong enough for him. for what he doesn't know he needs. i keep safe what he doesn't know he needs. as do you, yes?'

"Perhaps. I wonder if she knows it?"

'does that matter? she is.'

"All right. Let's get Mena."

'finally. more do. less empty say.' The animal nosed her again, a little roughly, but like her he knew she was his counterpart; similar but not same and they needed to work to maintain their skewed balance to perform as they could.

As Maze closed her eyes to ask Amenadiel here, Cearrebus padded up the curved stairs to his master's rooms. No doors were locked to him and he passed through one easily, slowing as he walked into the small glass room at the end. The one looking east up at the ridge. Where he'd felt his master's pain emanating from as he struggled to save the human. The sharp edge was glowing in the reflected light off the snow. Where the dark had snared him. Hurt him. He wasn't afraid of pain. Failure was his only fear, left over from Lucifer himself. In failing the human he's failed his master, let him be weakened.

He carried something strong within him. So strong his master could not hold it yet. And the delay was going to prove costly. He sighed, laying down to peer into the night. Next time he met that dark, next time…he would be the victor. As he had always and ever been.

Maze and Mena sat together downstairs as she told him what she'd seen in Canaan's eyes the night Amenadiel had stopped her from destroying the human on the street. He sighed and shook his head.

"It was an honest mistake. How could you know? How could you reasonably expect that? Phae healed her - well mostly - and he had no idea. Lucifer himself has been with her for months and had no idea. Two archangels with different types of intimate contact, Maze. And no idea. And we still don't. These…sensitive mortals are rare, and all different. And why now? Most 'turn' as children. And they know it themselves. Not this one. So if they can't and I can't and even she can't…how could you?"

"You're not placating me, are you?"

"That sort of subtlety isn't really my way. Nor yours. We're more direct, don't you think?"

"Yes. And I'm grateful for that." Thinking of the refreshing candor she'd found with Cearrebus. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For…showing mercy, I suppose. Some grace about this."

"Mazikeen. We've been working this. To give it you must first learn to accept it. Learn to do that, already. Adapt."

Exactly what her counterpart had said. Mazikeen decided to act her role, changing though it may be. Making the conscious decision to change with it.

"What's coming is going to be…." She was at a loss for words.

"Whatever is coming will come. We'll all adapt."