Lucifer's dreams are… unpleasant.

It's not one thing. One big nightmare. It's more so a bunch of little things, horrifying things, that flicker through his mind. A part of him knows he's dreaming, wants to wake up; the rest of him is trapped in this eternal… whatever it is. Nightmare. It's a nightmare, and it feels like a nightmare, but it's also so horrifyingly real because everything he sees, he knows that it happened. He knows Daniel is dead. He knows Chloe died. He knows he died. Visions, memories of both of their deaths replay in his head on loop and it's like his own personal Hell as he sleeps, but there's nothing he can do about that. He's trapped in his mind, and his mind loves to torture him more than anything else. And he knows his mind enough to know this is only the first of many.

But still, he wakes up next to Chloe Decker, his wings folded around the both of them once again, and the moment the world comes into focus and reality settles back in again, he immediately rolls over and wraps both of his arms around her as well, kissing her head gently. He receives a quiet hum in response, Chloe's fingers curling into the collar of his shirt, and he can't bite back a soft, content sigh when she snuggles closer and tucks her head under his chin.

Reluctantly, he moves his other wing away from them, keeping the one still wrapped around Chloe as tight as he could, and twists his head around to look for Amenadiel. As promised, his brother is still there, where he was sitting on the edge of the bed when Lucifer had fallen asleep, watching the two of them intently. His gaze meets Lucifer's for a second when his wing moves, offering a soft, understanding smile before looking at where Chloe is still curled up under his other wing, still half-hidden from sight. Lucifer's not sure he's ready to move his wing away yet.

He does move one arm away, though, shifting back onto his back. The other one remains tucked underneath Chloe's head, holding her close to his side as he turns toward his brother.

"How long-?"

"A few hours," Amenadiel murmurs, rolling his phone around in his hands. Lucifer eases out a slow, steady breath through his teeth and merely manages to nod. A part of him is touched that his brother actually stayed with them that long. Another part of him feels a little guilty, watching Amenadiel fuss with his phone, knowing he has a child to get home to. "You… looked like you were having a nightmare, but- well…" His oldest brother puffs his cheeks out, looking uncertain. "I figured that was to be expected and I should let you sleep anyway. It's been a long day."

"It's been a long…" Lucifer manages to huff out a laugh, but it comes strained and somewhat shaky despite his best efforts. Clearing his throat, he tries again for a more convincing chuckle, but it's still too breathy and weak for his liking. With a half-shrug in Amenadiel's direction, he clears his throat once more and simply gives up on the laughter for now, letting his little half-smile falter into a frown. "It's been a long couple of months, honestly. Today was just…"

"The icing on the cake?" Amenadiel offers.

Lucifer can only nod, distantly. Reluctantly, with a quick glance at Chloe, he carefully withdraws his arm from under her head and pushes himself to sit up. Every inch of him is aching, but he's not hurt. No, when he returned after practically spontaneously combusting in Heaven, he had been completely uninjured. But now it's like the fight, the dying, the everything is catching up to him. Every bone, muscle, tendon, all of it just… hurts. It takes a moment for him to actually sit up straight, but even then he sags forward almost immediately, shoulders hunching as he folds forward and lets his arms pool like noodles in his lap. His wing doesn't move an inch from around Chloe, and there it will stay until she wakes. After a second thought, he tucks the other behind his back, out of the way for the most part, and wraps his arms around himself silently.

It's an odd feeling, whatever this is. He's tired. He feels… weak. Just hours ago, standing before his siblings as they knelt in front of him, bowing to him, bowing to the new God, he had felt so empowered. Like he could do anything. On top of the world and in charge of it all. Now it's like coming down from a high, like the crash after the cocaine wears off. Like a bad hangover the morning after a really great cocktail party. It's painful, dizzying, sickening, breathtaking, scary. Lucifer isn't sure what to do with it all. He wants to lay down, curl up and wrap his arms around Chloe and keep them there forever. He's exhausted. He won, they won, but now that it's over…

He almost feels more stressed. He's sure Linda has a word for whatever it is that he's feeling, some technical term, but he doesn't care for it right then. He's too tired. He just wants to rest.

Amenadiel's gaze doesn't leave him, inspecting with a critical eye, probably judging his physical and mental state. Lucifer knows his slouched, hunched-over posture probably isn't winning him any brownie points with his brother, but he doesn't care for that either. He's not about to plaster on a smile and pretend he's okay after everything that just happened. To be honest, he doesn't even think he'd be able to if he tried. It'd probably make him look worse. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," the word comes out in a whisper, and Lucifer can't force his voice any louder. Not for lack of trying. Hesitantly, his gaze finds his brother, barely tilting his head up to look up at him. There's nothing but concern in Amenadiel's eyes, watching him. "Weak, I suppose. Everything…" Puffing out a sigh, Lucifer manages to lift his head the slightest bit, but he can't force his back straight, can't force himself to sit up. His wing, the one not wrapped around Chloe, flutters up to wrap around his shoulder, and Lucifer sinks into it a little bit, letting it support most of his weight and resting his chin over the top of his feathers. "Everything hurts. I'm not injured, but it's like… coming off a good trip… waking up with a hangover. I don't know."

"You and Michael exchanged some pretty heavy blows," Amenadiel responds pointedly, gently.

Lucifer can barely look him in the eyes, but he does. He doesn't think of the fight, not really. It's all just a blur of violence, one attack after the other. Fighting Michael was nothing Lucifer hadn't dreamed about for eons. It's what happened after the fight that Lucifer doesn't want to think about. It's Heaven that Lucifer doesn't want to think about; the fire under his skin, ripping and tearing away at him, eating him alive and shredding him apart. The pain, the light. His light. His entire being, erupting in one giant, painful explosion. It was the worst physical pain he ever felt.

But for Chloe, he'd endure it all a thousand times over again. Lucifer doesn't reply to Amenadiel at once, taking a breath and working up his nerve, working up a response. His brother is silent again now, just watching, seemingly knowing Lucifer has more to say because he won't take his eyes off of him for even a second, staring intently, waiting. Which is probably why it takes Lucifer a bit longer than it should to offer a half-hearted shrug and open his mouth to speak again. "No, Amenadiel, I… my fight with Michael was…" His hand twitches, for a second, toward the spot where Michael had hit him with the flaming sword. The wound had burned at the time. Now there's nothing where he knows a scar should be. His body had rebuilt itself anew. No scars, no bruises, no wounds. Nothing to show for his fight with his twin. "My fight with Michael was-" He starts again, reluctantly, and shakes his head, finally looking away. "When I went to Heaven…"

There's a moment of silence. Dead silence. Amenadiel's gaze doesn't move from his face; Lucifer doesn't know how he knows his brother is watching him. He just knows. "You died there."

"And came back like this." Lucifer barely inclines his head toward his brother as he speaks, his gaze searching for Chloe again instead. Reluctantly, he finally peels his wing back a bit to actually look at her, and once he's content that she's content, he carefully tucks it back into place and turns back toward Amenadiel's… general direction, at least. "So it wasn't the fight. Actually…" He lets the word hang there for a moment, along with all the other words on the tip of his tongue, words he knows they both know are coming. "I think the fight was the easy part."

"Oh, Luci," Amenadiel murmurs, nothing but concern lacing his words. "Lucifer…"

"Amenadiel," Lucifer interrupts, sparing a glance back up at him finally, and manages a brief smile despite himself, shaking his head. "I'm fine. Truly. A part of me had hoped-" He doesn't finish, doesn't dare, that's a can of worms they're not ready to get into yet. But he directs his gaze to Chloe, and turns his brother's attention to her as well. "For her, I'd do it all over again."

His brother huffs out a quiet chuckle in response, flicking his gaze toward Chloe. "I know you would. That's the kind of person you are." Lucifer's already shaking his head before Amenadiel finishes speaking, not really wanting to hear his oldest brother's tangent right then, and Amenadiel doesn't quite insist on making him sit through it. He just sighs in a way that makes it painfully easy to picture him rolling his eyes, and then reaches out to curl a hand over his wrist. The touch is… warm. It warms him to every inch of his being, the ache pounding through his muscles seeming to simmer down for a second as he looks up at his brother. "I'm proud of you."

Lucifer's throat constricts all too quickly at the words. Every inch of him aches to believe them - and he does. He can't help but smile despite himself, flicking his gaze down to his brother's hand briefly and letting his eyes fall half-lidded for a moment. Amenadiel is proud of him. Amenadiel had stood by his side throughout all of this; the good and the bad. The campaigning and the fighting. The war. They've come a long way, Lucifer knows, and it tickles him a little bit. His oldest brother had believed in him before the rest of Heaven even considered him.

It's more than he deserves, he thinks. He would have expected Amenadiel to try to talk him out of it, but no. There was none of that. Nothing but absolute, pure support and faith from his brother. And for that, Lucifer will always be grateful. The smile on his face hurts a little now, that steady ache returning as he shakes his head again and lifts his gaze back up to his big brother. "Thank you, Amenadiel," he replies quietly, meeting his gaze. "Thank you for standing by me."

"There is no one I would rather have stood with, Luci," Amenadiel tells him firmly. There's a sudden heat, pressure growing behind Lucifer's eyes that he studiously ignores in favor of turning his full attention to Amenadiel, hanging onto his every word. "In the time we've spent together on Earth, I've watched you do nothing but grow. You've evolved in ways none of us ever could have imagined. Even me," Amenadiel admits, and then grins at him, wide and toothy. "But I've realized that if anyone deserves that kind of faith, it's you. Standing by your side through this war, brother…" There's silence for a moment, just silence. Long and daunting. Lucifer's chest is tight, heavy with emotion, struggling to blink back the stinging sensation in his eyes and the warm tears he can feel brewing as Amenadiel peers down at him. "Was an honor."

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Lucifer can only gaze back at him, stunned into silence. Amenadiel only smiles, lifting his hand to the side of his face, and Lucifer sinks forward into the touch at once, taking in a slow, shuddery breath and letting Amenadiel tilt his head up a little bit.

"My little brother," his eldest brother murmurs. "How you've grown."

Lucifer can't help but laugh, shaking his head. Amenadiel's hand drops away, but he's smiling as he gazes back at his younger brother, as Lucifer finally looks back up at him. "Finally, right?"

Amenadiel merely shakes his head, expression soft. "I think it's right on time, Lucifer."

Lucifer can't help but grin, blinking back the tears brewing in his eyes furiously, and tucks his chin back over the side of his wing, nodding shakily. He feels warm, warmed to his very core. There's so much - too much, Lucifer thinks - to do, but right now, right now he can just relax. Sit back and bask in his victory for a moment. Sit back and revel in the fact that everything's okay.

Except…

It hits him too suddenly. Everything's not okay.

There's so much to do - but Lucifer can only think of the one thing he truly wants to do right now.