Linda woke with a splitting headache and quickly grasped her head with a groan, turning as she did so on a surface that felt soft... and silky?
"What?" she said under her breath, snapping up to full awareness in an instant and finding herself in a very familiar room from a very unfamiliar perspective.
Lucifer's bed?
"Wait..." she murmured, pointing randomly as if to pin down the thoughts swirling in a frenzied pace about her head.
"Lucifer?" she called, as it seemed natural to call his name in his place.
But...
No...
That wasn't right...
Lucifer wasn't here any more. This was Maze's place... with...
She started nodding at all of the new accessories and attachments on the headboard.
Because, of course. Maze.
She winced, pressing fingers against a throbbing temple.
Lucifer was with Chloe.
"Wait..." she whispered, as something twisted awfully in her stomach. "Oh no..."
That wasn't right at all.
Lucifer died.
Her face crumpled, revisiting the news Amenadiel had only shared with her yesterday.
Was it yesterday?
God, why was everything so muddled in her head?
Three days ago? Four?
Whatever!
Amenadiel had walked up to her slowly, his face holding such pain. And she'd held him and taken that pain as he'd cried.
She hadn't been able to give it to anyone else. And she couldn't seem to get herself to cry to let it go. She'd just... held onto it, probably out of disbelief.
Denial. That river in fucking Egypt she was always telling her damn clients about. Here she was, neck deep in it, just waiting to get eaten by a crocodile!
Her face scrunched up.
Stupid metaphor.
She was usually better with those.
"Ow..." Hissing, she rubbed her temples, and tried to remember how she'd ended up in Maze's bed.
Plink.
Plink.
Plink.
She frowned. Was that the piano?
Twisting on the slippery sheets, she finally looked out from the bedroom at the bar and the elevator beyond.
Her eyes went wide.
"Oh my god?"
Shattered stone, broken bottles, glass..?
The place was a wreck!
Awkwardly sliding off the mattress - with a promise that she'd decontaminate herself later - she stood, clasping her head again to soothe a quick stab of pain, and stared at the mess as she crept to the cracked pillar.
"Maze?!"
Plink.
Linda stiffened.
This was starting to feel like a horror movie.
She did not appreciate that.
Not at all.
"Lucifer?!" she whispered loudly, as she ever so slowly shifted to look at the piano.
Because Amenadiel had explained that Lucifer's ghost was still around. That Lucifer had actually been standing right next to her as they'd talked about him back home, and that he'd wanted to say a few words of thanks.
Some of those words had been 'thanks for the very enjoyable sex' which her significant other had had a great deal of trouble delivering, and had led to a very awkward conversation between Amenadiel and thin air immediately after.
Linda's smirk fell to a frown.
Where was Amenadiel?
Did he have Charlie?
Something horrible rose in her at the thought of her baby, but the feeling, and the stammering thought that chased it was obliterated by the figure standing beside the piano.
Linda sucked in a long, sharp breath and took a step back.
"Please do not say that name again," the figure murmured, before dropping a finger to another key, striking it tentatively, producing yet another note that was weak, flat, and short-lived.
Linda was part way through saying a name that she quickly realized was the one he was referring to, and tried very hard to change course.
"Luuu-ook at you!" she shouted, throwing a hand in his direction, her mind reeling from the sight of Lucifer, somehow alive, in a shimmering gold robe, with his enormous white wings out, and everything!
"You look so angelic!" she shouted again, her eyes bulging from their sockets.
Why was she yelling so much?!
"I mean... oh my god! LOOK AT YOU!"
God, she felt like kneeling! Should she pray?!
Lucifer released a heavy breath and looked up from the piano at her.
And then she truly saw his eyes. The heaviness there. The troubled arch of his brow.
There was confusion there, sure.
I'm babbling, why wouldn't there be?
But there was also a terrible pain.
"Luu..." she stammered, then stopped herself. "I'm sorry. I'm having trouble here. How-"
"I am not surprised. You took a long time to wake. I worried I had not healed you well." Lucifer looked down at the piano again, reaching out to play another note. "It was... harder... this time."
Linda felt a cold chill.
She'd barely registered what he'd said, because nothing of what she was seeing or hearing of the figure before her said Lucifer at all.
Just a face and a figure, that wasn't speaking or moving as her friend ever had.
"You aren't Luuhuu..." she clapped a hand over her mouth, then dropped her hands stiffly by her sides. "You aren't him."
And the man with wings before her slowly shook his head without looking up.
"I am not a sibling," he said then, answering her next question.
"But you look-"
Face twisting in sudden anger, the angel grasped the piano by the corner and flung the instrument backwards across the room. It exploded with a cacophonous noise against the bookshelves on the opposite wall.
Linda shrieked and jerked back, quickly covering her horrified mouth.
Papers fluttered to the floor behind him like snow.
The angel shut his eyes tightly. His mouth grew thin.
"I am-"
"So, so, very, very angry," she said quickly through her fingers, a part of her wanting to run away screaming, but another part - a part she knew she'd never get rid of - stepping up to the plate to take control of the situation.
To try and help.
Slowly she extended both hands, palm up.
"I didn't mean to upset you," she said, in a low, soothing voice.
The angel who looked like Lucifer, but apparently wasn't, dropped his gaze to the broken stone between them.
"I should not have done that. I have scared you. I apologize."
Linda blinked. That was refreshingly forthright.
"You did scare me, yes," she admitted, in the same even, calm voice. "But, often we do things we shouldn't do when our emotions are too much for us to bear."
Linda winced inwardly. She sounded like a first year psych major.
She wanted so badly to understand what was going on here - if this wasn't Lucifer, then who was it? And if he wasn't a sibling, what other option did that leave?!
But he was obviously triggered by anything to do with Lucifer. She needed to change gears.
"What's your real name?" she asked, hoping to impart a recognition of his legitimacy, of his separation from Lucifer, that he seemed to need.
He looked up at her quickly, the surprise apparent in his eyes.
"Samael."
She nodded with a quick smile, determined not to react to the fact that that was Lucifer's real name too. The Johnson guy had called Lucifer Samael when they'd busted him out of the mental clinic.
Linda winced inside. It still embarrassed her, how much she gushed over that guy, thinking he was actually God.
A thought struck, perhaps a dumb one, but she went with it.
"How do you say that in your language?" she asked, hoping her curiosity might help build a deeper rapport.
Samael frowned.
"I cannot speak in the celestial tongue to you," he said, standing tall before her. "You are too fragile to take it."
Her smile grew a little stiff.
For if there was one thing she hated, of all the things she'd heard and seen and experienced, it was being called 'fragile'.
"I am not," she said, forcing the smile. "I'm not fragile, thank you very much."
He raised an eyebrow. "You are not?"
"I am not," she said again, drawing the last word out and nodding quickly when she'd finished just to drive that point home.
Amenadiel had talked a little about the angelic speech at her prodding, and while he'd never used it around her, she had caught the occasional odd chiming noise from the baby's room when Amenadiel had gone in to check on Charlie.
She was curious, and most certainly not fragile.
"But humans-"
"Nope! I can take it." She straightened and gestured for him to go ahead. "I'm ready."
Samael frowned for a moment, then nodded.
"Very well. My name, in the language of my kind, is,"
Golden flames flickered in his dark eyes, giving Linda a moment of pause.
"Uh.."
Samael
The sound of his voice washing over her was like standing inside the largest pipe organ inside the largest church in the world, as a full orchestra suddenly lodged in her brain played accompaniment - with a heavy emphasis on winds and horn - at maximum volume.
It was like being run over by an all-brass marching band dressed in wind chimes.
It was the most violently beautiful form of prayer she'd ever heard.
She fell to her knees.
She could not speak.
Samael stepped to her, his wings arching in concern.
The sight made her want to cry.
"You said you were not fragile?" he asked, crouching to her. "I spoke as softly as I could?"
"You're... you're an angel," she mumbled, her voice wrecked by emotion.
And then she did cry - an awful, messy sobbing that went on much longer than she'd meant it to.
It was as if the sight of him gave her permission to express the pain of every little wound she'd ever had.
Samael's hand stretched towards her chest, rested gently over her heart, and began to glow.
An incredible warmth spread through her body from the spot, but quickly flickered and faded.
Leaving her somewhat bereft.
He pulled back, his expression bitter.
"It is not working as it should. I do not know why."
Linda grasped her chest, clutching at the spot he'd held as if she might pull that feeling back by force.
Then she wiped her eyes and shook her head quickly. "No, I feel better, thank you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to lose it like that."
Samael looked utterly confused.
"Lose it?" He looked carefully about them both. "What is it that you have lost?"
Without meaning to, Linda began to laugh, which - she realized a little belatedly - wasn't the best approach in trying to connect with the angel who wasn't Lucifer in front of her. The laughter chased the tears almost nervously, skittishly, and finally ended in a sigh and a smile.
"I guess I'm a little fragile," she said with a smirk, and slowly stood to her feet. Samael matched her movement, standing to his great height before her.
Reaching out tentatively, Linda placed her own hand against his chest. Watching her, the slightest frown touched his brow.
"I lost a friend recently and it hit me hard," she said, staring at the contact between them, this strange contact with Lucifer's double. "Sometimes it's hard to express how we're feeling. It comes out in weird ways." She looked up at him with a smirk. "Like crying and laughing in the space of a moment."
His frown softened and he slowly nodded.
"Or destroying something that does not belong to you on a sudden whim," he said softly.
Understanding her point completely.
"Wow," she said, a little blindsided. "Yes. Like that. Samael... can I call you Samael, or would you prefer I call you..."
A frown darkened his face as she opened her mouth to continue, but it was lost to confusion and incredulity, as Linda tried her very, very best to say his name back in the way she had heard.
She failed utterly, spectacularly, immensely - mimicking the equivalent of a Stradivarius violin with a rubber band guitar made out of a crayon-scrawled tissue box. But she did it and that's what counted, because the look on Samael's face was priceless.
A small, sincere smile lit his face.
"You cannot speak celestial at all."
"No, I really can't."
"I do appreciate the extremely poor attempt you have made."
"Thank you," she answered, her mouth twisting at his choice of words. "What I was trying to say was, did you want to talk about what made you angry enough to throw a piano across a room?"
The chest beneath her hand rose and fell with a sigh, and he stepped back, his eyes growing distant.
"I do not."
She pulled her hand back. She'd lost ground there, and that was a shame.
He must have seen her disappointment, for his voice softened and he attempted a small smile.
"You are kind. But you are a human. You cannot comprehend the complexities of celestial interactions."
Linda stared up into his dark eyes.
And tried.
She really tried.
"Mmm-hmm," she murmured, her mouth a thin line. "I cannot comprehend the complexities of celestial interactions?"
He nodded.
Her smile grew sharp and her voice loud. "I cannot comprehend," she drew her hands up and made vicious air quotes she knew he wouldn't understand, "the COMPLEXITIES of celestial interactions!"
Samael's brow furrowed. "That is what I said, yes. You seem agitated, but I do not understand why."
"Because I," she pointed a finger at her chest, "CANNOT comprehend the comPLEXITIES," she waved her hands dramatically, "of celestial interactions."
The last word left her a hiss.
Samael stepped back.
Linda stepped forward, thrusting a finger towards his chest. "Let me tell you what I understand. I've been listening to the 'complexities of celestial interactions' for six years now! Wanna know what I've learned?"
The angel gave her an apprehensive look. "No?"
"I've learned that the whole damn lot of you are just as screwed up as we are down here! Fathers and sons fighting, mothers and sons fighting, siblings fighting! Siblings killing each other! Fathers punishing their children because they wouldn't fall in line! Mothers threatening everyone who gets in their way!"
She had to stop then, because that brought up an awful memory she still hadn't properly dealt with. Closing her eyes, she steadied her breathing, then looked up at him again.
"I have talked to angels, demons, the goddess, the devil, and a man connected to God in some way I still don't understand. All of you have problems I've heard echoed over and over again with the clients I see every damn day. Your interactions, no matter how evolved or superior you think you are, are entirely all too human."
Samael's expression shifted between surprise, to disbelief, to indignation. Emotions she'd seen play out on Lucifer's face in the exact same way. His arms closed tightly about his chest - a defensive effort to shield himself from what she was saying.
Right.
She had a terrible feeling she knew who Samael was. What he was. Why he looked like Lucifer. And there was a way perhaps that she could prove what she knew, and how she knew it.
But he wasn't going to like it.
"I've had many, many 'celestial interactions' that were very intricate, Samael, including a bunch with the angel who looked exactly like you do. So exactly I'm guessing that dimple I used to smack on his ass is on yours as well."
At his stunned expression, she felt a quick stab of guilt. But she couldn't stop, because it was all she needed to confirm what she feared.
"God resurrected you, didn't he? You look like Lucifer because you were Lucifer, you just don't remember right because he's played with your memories for some reason. But a part of you knows, and that's where that anger is coming from. And I believe that's why you lashed out just now, in this penthouse that you used to own, destroying the very piano that you used to play."
The angel before her looked utterly broken.
And she realized at that moment that she'd gone too far.
"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly, reaching for him. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so blunt, that was-"
Flames leapt from Samael's skin, engulfing his form as his eyes grew as bright as the sun.
Linda shrank back from the heat of it, raising a hand to protect her face as the fire grew, lapping hungrily at the ceiling of the penthouse. The sound of the flames consuming the air about his form became a roar as Samael spread his great, fiery wings wide.
"Oh my god!" she shrieked, falling back against the broken glass and stone strewn on the floor as the flames grew hotter still, and the angel's voice boomed above the maelstrom.
"WHAT OF THIS, HUMAN!" he roared, the flames engulfing his form pulsing with each word. "HAVE YOU HAD THIS 'CELESTIAL INTERACTION' BEFORE!"
Linda curled up with a terrified cry, oblivious to the cutting glass, shielding herself from the waves of heat coming from his blazing figure.
"HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS ME IN THIS WAY! I AM NOT LUCIFER! THE FALLEN ONE WAS UNDONE, AND I AM NOT HE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!"
She could only sag against the stone and glass, the air she needed to breathe stolen by the flames spreading wildly about her - licking hungrily at the spilled alcohol in a circle on the floor, climbing the bar behind her, rippling along the ceiling in hellish waves.
And as she felt herself passing out, no longer able to breathe, her skin baking in the heat, she realized something really important.
She'd been waay, way off on that hunch.
This wasn't Lucifer at all.
And she was pretty damn sure she was about to die.
Not gunna lie, not getting a single review after posting the last two chapters on this site is a bit of a downer.
I can see folks are reading it, and that's lovely - thank you :)
But it really makes a difference to hear from folks. Hope you'll leave a note, if you have the time.
Many more wild things to come. Didn't manage to finish the story this past break, but I'll give it another go this weekend.
Hope you're all staying safe and well.