A/N: Okay... so, here we go. I'm just going to let you guys dive right in. More notes at the bottom. I'll warn you, there's probably a ton of mistakes, but I got a little excited, you'll understand once you get to the end and read the end notes. So, I hope you enjoy this plot-progression chapter! Lots of Lucifer POV here.
"What the actual FUCK!" Lucifer yelled, muffled by his hand covering his nose and upper lip. Blood started pouring out of both nostrils and down his chin from a very well-placed punch, but Maze just scowled and moved past him in his doorway.
"No, what the actual fuck, to you, asshole," she sneered, turning around to face him as he closed and locked the door. It was early afternoon, and she had waited until she had cooled down some before barging over to his apartment. He had opened the door, hair a mess, his eyes half-open, wearing a pair of low-slung pajama pants, and she had promptly punched him in the face when the door was wide enough.
"What have I done to you?" he questioned, tilting his head up to try and stop the bleeding. He sounded nasally and she could see blood collecting in his mouth, and that made her happy. "I don't remember asking you to punch me in the face, and the last time I did it was mid-orgasm, and-"
"Well, after you tell me your family contacted the school to verify your whereabouts, and you actually seemed quite concerned about it, I figured you'd be a bit fucking smarter than your dick!" She cut him off, her voice rising with every word. "Then I see you coming in last night, happy as a fucking clam, and I just knew it. You went and saw her, didn't you?" she asked, her tone accusatory. He glared at her, walking into his kitchen to grab the towel hanging from the oven. He pressed the cloth against his nose, doing his best to not let the knowing guilt show over his perturbed expression.
"Lucifer, we talked about this," Maze reminded him, her voice just minutely softer. "Until we figure out what's going on with your family, you can't go see her outside of class. She can't be seen as more than your teacher right now." She crossed her arms below her chest, trying to ignore the slight throb in her right hand. She might have broken his nose; she wasn't exactly gentle.
"I was careful," he mumbled, and he didn't even convince himself of the rationality of that. He rolled his eyes are her flat expression before pushing past her to sit on his couch and apply pressure to his potentially broken nose.
"No, Lucifer, you weren't," she retorted, watching as he walked by and sat down, grumbling in the way only he could while looking like a half-naked, statuesque piece of art. Although she was very well acquainted with the scars on his back, the markings always seemed to make her angry with quote-on-quote family that did that to him. "If you're being watched, they're going to start noticing a pattern with her. They'll notice there's something there."
Lucifer held her stare for a split second before dropping his gaze to his knees, slightly shifting in his seat. "There's nothing there," he said far-too quietly for anyone to believe him. At this point, he wasn't even trying to talk sense into himself. He knew he was fucked, but no one else needed to know that.
"Then why haven't you fucked her yet? Or moved on, like with literally everyone else?" she emphasized the second to last word with pointed fingers. Her pointed eyebrow, the one with the neatly shaved space, raised up, awaiting his response.
"Apparently all of this," he chimed, free hand waving about himself up and down. "Doesn't immediately splay her legs like everyone else."
Maze stared at him for a moment, her expression softening when she could see that he had no idea how to admit he felt something for that woman. "She had a kid. You have to be smart. For her," she reminded him, her voice barely above a whisper. She walked closer to him, her heeled boots clunking on the ground with each step. "You can't let them know about her. At all."
It took him a few seconds, but Lucifer eventually turned his gaze back to Maze and nodded his head softly. She watched as he closed his eyes, his head barely shaking back and forth as he sighed, loudly, and returned back to his apathetic self. "If you've permanently disfigured me, we won't have to worry about anyone getting caught in the crosshairs," he grumbled, wincing as he adjusted the bloody cloth over his nose. A few drops of blood had dropped onto his chest, and the rather large sick part of Maze wanted to bend down and lick them off, but they weren't like that anymore.
With a slight chuckle, Maze reached into the leather saddle-bag strapped to her thigh and pulled out two tightly wrapped OB tampons, although Lucifer had absolutely no fucking clue what they were. She swung her leg over his and straddled the middle of his thighs, allowing herself to look him over with a smirk. She pulled the kitchen towel away from his face and ignored the grimace he made as she tossed it aside. Before much more blood could drop onto his chest, she shoved one tampon into each nostril with enough force to make him cry out.
"Perfect for bullet holes," she whispered to him with a smile, admiring her work of possibly making him a fraction of a percentage less attractive with his nose stuffed and two strings hanging out of each side. "And bloody noses." However, much to her dismay, his ridiculous scowl at her words made up that percentage rather quickly. She reached up and patted the side of his face, hard enough to earn a small grunt, before standing and swinging her leg back over his so she could leave his apartment. She shut the door behind her, nothing else needing to be said between them, for now. She'd let him wallow in whatever emotions he actually felt until he needed to talk to her again.
To say she had expected to hear from him that weekend would be accurate. Sure, she had vaguely discussed the Department dinner, and he seemed to be intelligent enough to put two and two together, so his appearing in her office was not the most surprising thing he could have done. Hell, he could have waltzed his ass into the department building, made a scene, and then met up with her to lick her inside-out. She should be grateful he had used tact. However, not receiving some snarky quip about getting her underwear off without even being present seemed strange. She was a fucking grown woman, and she was still worried about texting him and coming off clingy. He didn't do clingy, she shouldn't do clingy being post-divorce. It was fine.
She did text him on Monday, hoping that asking him a question regarding his TA position, one they seemed to just ignore completely, would be a good enough excuse to start-up a dialogue. It seemed ridiculous, they had literally had each other's genitals in their mouths, yet she couldn't gather the courage to just fucking call. He replied with a very concise, professional response to email him the documents and he'd go over them and make suggestions. Professional. She just stared at the screen, her brows knitted together, and wondered what the actual fuck had happened.
She went into her office later that day to make herself visible to other administrators. When she opened the door, she was met with an absolute mess that she hadn't seen in the dark on Friday. Crumbled papers littered the floor, as well as the knocked-over whiskey bottle that had apparently been on the desk and flown halfway across the room sometime between orgasm one and two. Luckily, it seemed to have been empty, so no heavy, permanent alcohol scene coming from the carpet. Miracles did happen. She stayed for a few hours and decided to head home, thinking she had made-face that she, indeed, did work long enough. Once home, she received an email notification from Lucifer with the revised documents, as well as a few suggestions. She was relieved that he still seemed to have a sense of humor in regards to her "boring, boring, boring" history lesson on blood spatter analysis. However, his curt "I will be working a lot of nights," and "I'll see you in class, Professor," at the end of the message left her feeling a little dejected.
Granted, she didn't know him very well, but from what she did know, his behavior didn't seem normal. It didn't seem to be the behavior of a man strung out on drugs and alcohol, like the man from class all those weeks ago, but rather one trying to distance himself. That, or maybe he was just really busy. She knew that mid-terms were right around the corner, and with him working nights, maybe he just needed extra study-time. Or something. She took a deep breath and pushed away any ridiculous thoughts. They weren't anything. He didn't need to tell her anything that wasn't pertinent to class. That didn't mean she didn't want him to, though. Regardless, she told herself that she was going to be done worrying about shit she wasn't even sure she needed to worry about.
Tuesday went by without a single word from him, and she could no longer try to rationalize the reasons in her head. She wasn't angry, or jealous, or anything like that. She just wanted to know what had happened. They had left on a good note Friday night, or at least she thought they had. Who the hell knows? Lucifer wasn't the most stable person she could be physically or emotionally invested in. The only person she had to blame was herself for fucking around with a student. A tall, sexy, British, oral-sex God, student/TA, younger man. Perhaps he got his taste (ha) and no longer cared about getting into her pants. That would be easy, if that were the case. She would scrape her pride and dignity off of the ground, fix her makeup, and move the fuck on. Like the grown-ass woman she was. However, she knew it wasn't that simple. That casual.
On Wednesday morning, she found she had a sort of nervous energy, much like the second week of teaching, after she had met him. The same anticipation of seeing him, of wondering what he was going to say, or look like. She had half expected him to meet her at her office before class, but no such thing occurred. He arrived in the classroom approximately two minutes before the metaphorical bell and sat in the middle pew; not in the front, not in the back, in the very middle. Literally as indifferent a position anyone could sit in. He wasn't the eager first-rower, or the kill-me-now back-rower. He was the fucking yeah-I'm-here-leave-me-alone middle-rower. The fact she understood seat position politics of the younger generations scared her, just a little.
She went through the entire lesson without a single sarcastic interjection from him. He, however, appeared relatively normal with everyone else. The girls that glanced at him all received a knowing smirk, and the one boy got a very intentional wink. She watched the entire thing play-out as if she were the one-woman audience to some half-assed show. Lucifer: Laying Down the Charm Half-Cocked, a Musical. When she was finished, she dismissed the class with a few minutes to spare, and she lightly tapped his arm as he tried to walk past her towards the door. She tried to hide the hurt at his disappointed posture, but he stopped and waited for the two of them to be alone before he turned around to face her.
"Hey," she said softly, a hint of a question in the simple greeting. She watched as he fixed a smile on his face, and maybe that hurt more than the detachment he emanated.
"Good morning, Professor," he replied softly, a false bravado in his tone. His eyes darted between the door and the windows rapidly, as if he were waiting for someone to interrupt them. She couldn't help the quizzical look on her face; he just wasn't acting anything like himself. Even before anything had happened between them, he flirted shamelessly. Why was he suddenly so docile?
"I've never been one to beat around the bush," she started, crossing her arms and eyeing him with suspicion, much like she used to when she wanted to make witnesses or suspects uneasy. "So, what's going on?"
"Nothing," he answered too-quickly. He reasoned with himself, not wanting to lie, but really unable to tell the entire truth. "I just have a lot on my plate right now. That's all." He finished his excuse with a small smile, and Chloe could see the slightest twinkle of sincerity in his gaze.
"Okay," she affirmed, nodding her understanding of being busy. She knew there was more to it, but she wouldn't pry, too hard. "So, we're good? I haven't done anything to piss you off?"
"No," he assured her, his hand automatically reaching out to hers. Chloe sighed in relief at the grasp and she squeezed his hand in response. "I don't even know if that's possible."
"Okay, I just, I wanted to make sure because you suddenly stopped sending me inappropriate texts at even more inappropriate times-" and she was cut off by his mouth crashing down on hers. It was slow, deep, and haunting. His arms wound around her tightly, pulling her against him and forcing her face straight up. She clung to his upper arms in an attempt to keep herself steady and melted into the heat of his embrace. All felt fine again. Funny, that.
The way his lips lingered around hers, the soft puff of air against her face, felt as if he were savoring it. Taking in all the details, every last feel of her mouth. When he pulled away, just slightly, his expression spoke of longing and regret; eyes closed tight, brows pinched together. "I'm sorry I've been distant," he breathed against her lips, his nose nudging along hers. "I just have some stuff I have to deal with." He said it with a small smile, and while she was wondered what that could mean, she believed him. She had no reason not to.
"Okay," she whispered back, mirroring his same smile and squeezing his arms one last time. She wanted to say more, but didn't. She reminded herself that this wasn't a thing. It wasn't anything serious. They were fucking around because it was scandalous, exciting, and exactly what they needed. She needed the spontaneity and recklessness he could provide, while she kept him grounded just enough to keep him from total self-destruction.
"I'll contact you tonight, at some point, yeah?" he stated, hoping that would be enough to stave her off. Seeing her worried about what she had done to cause his behavior was hurting him more than he thought it would. He wanted nothing more than to continue to annoy her openly and undress her privately, but he knew he would hate himself if something happened to her on his account. When she nodded he gave her one final peck, a chaste farewell, and quickly walked out of the lecture hall, leaving her to worry her bottom lip between her teeth behind the door.
Lucifer let his anger wash over him like the welcomed warmth of fire licking at his skin as soon as Chloe was out of his sight. Five years of nothing. Five years of being completely free of them, and they decided to put an effort into finding him now. He didn't want to sound like a petulant child, but it was unfair. It was cruel. To finally be in a place that didn't' have him drinking himself to unconsciousness nightly, to taking whatever drugs women passed to him from their tongues. To fucking anything and everything that looked at him for more than two seconds. Hell, they didn't even have to have two legs; there had been a few that were down an appendage or two.
Then there was Charlotte fucking Richards, and her relationship with the douche detective Dan. There was something to that, he knew it; his former crime-thug senses were tingling with corruption there. He made his way to her office, taking the stairs up two at a time and not bothering with knocking when he reached her door. He let himself in and closed the door harder than necessary. Charlotte was sitting at her desk, pen dangling between long fingers, and she didn't even flinch at the intrusion.
"Mr. Morningstar, I didn't realize we had an appointment," she said flatly, eyes remaining on her computer screen, not even taking a second to glance up at him. For some reason, that rubbed him the wrong way more than it should. Any other day he wouldn't have cared if she even spoke to him before their arranged encounters, but today, his nerves were shot and his temper was flaring.
"We didn't, but I'm here, so let's do this," he replied, mirroring the same flat tone. It took her another moment before she looked over towards him, her brows slightly raised in mild disbelief at the notion that he could call any shots.
"You think that's how this thing works?" she asked incredulously, tilting her head to the side with a slightly amused smirk on her lips. She sighed heavily when he gave her no response and she turned her attention back to her screen. "Why are you even here? You know I always call when you have a duty to fulfil. When I decide you're needed." She made a point to remind him that she was, in fact, the one making the demands; he was simply there to put out.
"Because I'm not in a great mood today, Charlotte," Lucifer stated, his tone flat and daunting. "And, if you recall, those on the other end of this," he continued, motioning towards his crotch and gaining her attention back. "Tend to get exactly what they need. Especially when I have some tension to work out."
"Oh, and you think you know what I need?" Charlotte asked incredulously. She crossed her slender arms across her perky chest and tilted her head while looking at him. Her expression ranged from surprise to impressed, and that's when he knew he had her. "Seems like you're needing something just as much as you presume I do."
"I do. It looks like you need someone to take that stick you've had shoved up your ass for weeks and replace it with something else." He tilted his head back, his chin raising defiantly while the tip of his tongue darted along his bottom lip. He watched as she observed him for a full minute, taking in his aggressive stance and the apathy in his eyes. She gave him a challenging look as she kicked off her heels, and that's when he locked the door and did exactly what he said he would.
Once he returned to his apartment building, he remembered to park farther away and took the back entrance. He went straight for Maze's apartment because he had made plans to meet her there, so he wouldn't walk in on any of her other money-making hobbies. She answered the door with two tumblers of amber liquid, three fingers each. He graciously took one and immediately downed the contents before he made it through the threshold. "Already, huh?" she asked, although not surprised, and refilled his glass after shutting the door.
"Don't want to talk about it," he informed her lowly, taking the glass with a nod of thanks and sipping at it gingerly. "Find out anything?" He walked over to her couch and sat down, elbows leaning against his knees as he waited for her to join him.
"I couldn't find anything other than the email to the school," she said, grimacing at the lack of information. "However, it was signed by a Gabriel Peacekeeper, so it doesn't look like he's trying to hide at all." With that, Lucifer groaned, taking a large gulp from the tumbler. "I went in and scrubbed your phone, no trackers or anything like that, and I made sure nothing to hack into it without me knowing about it."
"Thanks," he said, relief flooding his system that, hopefully, information regarding Chloe was safe, for the time being. "Do you know if he or any of them are here?"
"As far as commercial travel, no," she said, but he could just sense the but clinging to her voice. "However, I can't get info on private charters or anything like that. At least not yet, my connection is working on it." She could see the worry still in eyes and the way he was slightly shaking the glass. She wanted to reach out and calm his hand, but something in her told her it wasn't the right move. "I'm also looking at rental car companies, so if he gets a ride, I'll know."
"He'll probably buy a car with cash," Lucifer informed her softly, eyeing the contents of his cup before downing the rest. He was relieved to know Maze had so many safe-guards already, but he knew it wouldn't matter. If they wanted him, they were going to get him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her face fall slightly, so he reached out and wrapped a hand around her slender knee. "Thank you, Maze. I appreciate it." He gave her a small smile, as much as he could muster and squeezed her leg, earning a smile from the ever-stoic Maze.
"Of course, Lucifer," she replies gently, fighting the urge to cover his hand with her. A thought popped into her head, but she wasn't sure how to approach it. When he let go of her leg and leaned back into the couch, she figured he had calmed down enough to prod. "So, is this the brother that," he started, worrying her lips between her teeth as she motioned towards his back.
"No, that was Michael," he answered, furrowing his brow. He tinkered with the empty glass in his hand, as if he were rolling around his thoughts in it. "Gabriel is less impulsive, more calculated," he started, listing off the differences and the reasons for his unease. "He isn't rash, but he's even more dangerous. You see, he enjoys hurting people, holding that power over them," he recollects, his eyes staring off into the distance remembering the times he watched his brother beat a man to death with his bare hands, a vicious smile on his lips. "I might feel like a monster after everything I've done, but Gabriel really is one."
Maze listened and her eyes turned hard. She knew about his past, everything he would never tell another soul. All the horrible things he had done, had let happen, and had happened to him. She knew the guilt he carried for all of that. She could see the way it pained him to remember, but it seemed to scare him all the same. Whoever Gabriel was, he wasn't someone to underestimate, and he seemed to be the person to bring things to an end. They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Lucifer decided he needed to rest up before work that evening. Maze watched him leave, no more relaxed than when he had arrived, and she hated that she could not give him more relief than what she was able to uncover. They would have to remain vigilant, and he would have to leave Chloe alone, for her sake.
1600: that afternoon
Charlotte was able to make out the familial resemblance almost immediately. The height and coloring was similar, but this man was enormous. The kind of large that instantly instilled a since of fear in you. She had been expecting him, as per their regular emails until this meeting. She noticed the way the hand movements were similar to Lucifer's, the atmosphere that he exuded was both intriguing and intimidating. Gabriel was even a little taller than Lucifer, but not nearly as attractive. She wondered if Lucifer had been given all the looks between the brothers, but she didn't know anything about the others.
Gabriel had entered her office quietly, dressed in the same way Lucifer always dressed in slacks and button up-shirts. His exposed forearms revealed thick, striated muscle and tattoo-covered skin covered by a fine smattering of dark hair. He had blue eyes instead of brown and short, buzzed hair. He looked every bit professional as he did threatening. Charlotte wasn't afraid of him; she had seen men just as bad as him, and she knew that Gabriel wasn't one to fuck around unless he needed to. At that point, he needed Charlotte's information.
"Like I said over our correspondence," Charlotte reminded him after they had shared unnatural pleasantries upon their first meeting. "Lucifer hasn't been one to involve himself in much, but he does involve himself with her."
"This woman," Gabriel expressed, shifting in his seat and folding his hands together in his lap. "You think he cares about her?"
"Enough to make an arrangement with me to get more time with her," she admitted, raising her eyebrow while crossing her legs behind her desk. She studied the man's features as she watched him mull things around in his head.
"Oh, and what did you get out of that?" Gabriel asked, although he was lightly smirking, but the grin didn't reach his eyes. If anything, that information seemed like it was a waste of his time. All Charlotte did was shrug and give her own smirk, and he seemed more than satisfied with not knowing any details. "I take it he kept up his prolific sexual nature, then" It was more a rhetorical question, but Charlotte could see the annoyance on his face.
"The girls love him," she chided, raising her eyebrows and smiling to herself. "And the boys." With that, Gabriel gave off a disgusted expression before sighing heavily.
"My little brother had no idea how to keep pills or liquor out of his fucking mouth, and he especially doesn't know how to keep his cock in his pants. However, he was good at what he did, until he wasn't." Charlotte could sense that he was going to go off on a brief history of Lucifer's past with his family, but she wasn't expecting to be given such blunt information. "What happened to him was his fault; he became defiant, rebellious, trying to do his own thing as if he had the capacity to do such." His voice remained low and steady, but he was wringing his hands together in front of his face. "When he left, we weren't too worried about it; honestly, we couldn't care less. The problem was gone. However, our mother decided she needed to know. And my father thinks that he got off easy." His last sentence held an ominous tone, and Charlotte, for once, actually became concerned for what she was going to help do to Lucifer.
"No worries, Ms. Richards, I haven't forgotten about my end of the bargain." Gabriel finished, pointing his finger towards her and shaking it slightly. His grin was back, and it was alarming how quickly he could switch from menacing to accommodating.
"I don't want him killed, I just want him scared into giving me what I want." She reminded him, giving him a pointed stare. "I may hate the man, but he's still the father of my children, and they need him."
"Of course!" Gabriel assures her, shifting himself to stand at the chair, smoothing his clothes down over his large frame, much the same as Lucifer did. "He will just be gently convinced why shared custody is what's best for the children." Without more preamble, Gabriel started walking towards the door and immediately stopped himself when he remembered something. "The Silver City, right?" he asked her, hand on the handle of the office door. She nodded and he shot her a grateful smile. "Plays piano at a fucking bar," he chuckles to himself incredulously before pulling the door out wide to let himself leave the room. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
He did his job with just enough enthusiasm to keep the crowd entertained. He wasn't feeling flirting with the clientele, wasn't wanting to fulfil requests or do anything outside of an ordinary performance. He stayed rather collected, and while some of the more frequent patrons seemed less than impressed with him that evening, he couldn't give a fuck even if it smacked him in the face. If he were honest with himself, he was hurting, but Lucifer only lied to himself. He covered that hurt and the potential for actual, productive feelings with anger and resentment. Bitterness for a family that used his strengths and then chewed him up and spit him out the second he questioned anything. He hated them for what they did to him, but he hated them even more for being able to control him still. He hated himself for that, for giving in to that fear, even though his pride could easily be pushed aside for Chloe. He would do anything for her, and he felt it best to not dwell on that.
With his autopilot on, he played song after song, drank drink after drink, and managed to leave work with only the slightest of sways in his step. He left out of the back door to avoid walking through the bar and running into Maze. He didn't think he could handle her making sure he understood to leave Chloe alone. He knew she was right, he knew she was being more rational about it, but it didn't mean he liked it. In his usual way of avoiding anything rational and good for him, he found himself strolling down the back alley in his nice clothes, therapeutic buzz, and freshly lit cigarette resting between his lips. So, when he suddenly felt the cold, wet asphalt against his side and cheek, he was a little confused at how vivid this bout of vertigo felt, that was until the cracking pain flared on the back of his skull and warmth spread down his neck. The sound of metal clanking on the ground is what kept him from lulling into unconsciousness.
He had been in enough brawls to know that he had just been sucker-punched (sucker-hit? Sucker-smacked-in-the-back-of-the-head-by-God-himself?) and was now in a vulnerable position on the ground. Instinctively, he reached up to touch the pain on the back of his head, and when he did, a large had wrapped around his wrist and forced his arm up his back, effectively incapacitating him in a shoulder-lock. In that position, you're really not able to keep from crying out, and Lucifer was stunned by the strength behind the grip and the force he had on his shoulder. Honestly, he was more surprised the joint hadn't popped out yet. Trying to remain calm at the body behind him grabbed a handful of his hair and started to lift him, Lucifer reached behind himself with his free arm but was unable to touch anything. He felt the massive, solid heat behind him as his head was forced back while the grip on his wrist shoved his hand further up his back. Sharp, shooting pain ran through his arm and shoulder, but he still was unable to get a glimpse of his attacker.
"You're as arrogant as ever, little brother," the man sneered behind him, and Lucifer's blood ran cold. The pain in his head and arm whited out his vision, but he knew the instant the man opened his mouth who it was, and the absurd bulk behind him only quantified that. "Seriously, a few years out of practice and you've gone soft? Even I hadn't expected so poorly from you." Gabriel kneed Lucifer in the back, right against his left kidney, just for the sake of a reaction.
Normally, Lucifer would have hid his anxiety with a witty come-back, but he couldn't even fathom trying to speak that that moment. He could feel the warmth running down the back of his neck cooling in the night breeze and his head was pounding dangerously. The only thing he could really focus on was breathing, and even that was becoming difficult. He took a slow, shaky breath in through his mouth, swallowing down a wave a nausea, no doubt brought on by the certain concussion he was sporting, before speaking. "What is it with this family and crow bars?" he asked, his voice held an octave higher by the awkward position of his arm behind his back. His eyes roamed around what he could see, and he was able to make out the shape of the metal object that had been so graciously throttled into the back of his skull. "Oh, forgive me, tire iron. Very original, Gabe."
He would have smiled at himself for being just as much of a shit as he used to be, but the grip in his hair tightened while his arm was released. Before he could even consider lifting his arms, three quick blows rocked his temple, jumbling his already fuzzy brain even more. His front was against the ground again, water continuing to soak into his shirt as hands were zip-tied behind his back. Gabriel lifted him easily and threw him back against the wall where he managed to catch himself enough to slump down to the ground. The plastic from the zip-ties were biting into his flesh, cutting his wrists with every minute movement. For the first time in years Lucifer looked up to see his brother, standing over him in all of his height and girth. His temple was throbbing and that eye was stinging from the small trickle of blood dropping into it. The ring of Gabriel's finger that had done the damage was glistening gold in the moonlight, and Lucifer hoped there wasn't an indention on his face from the insignia on it. Golden Gates.
"Is this really necessary?" Lucifer argued, shrugging his shoulders to signal Gabriel's gaze to his connected wrists behind his back. "I mean, I'm already seeing four of you, I hardly doubt I could fight my way out of this." It was just as much an admission as it was a statement. He had been rocked. Hard. Gabriel wouldn't be an easy fight at his best, Lucifer certainly couldn't beat him now.
"For your own good, Lucifer," he informed him, crossing his monstrous arms over his even more monstrous chest. "I need you listening and not trying to fight, unsuccessfully," he added with a smirk. He had inflicted enough damage on his younger brother; he needed him coherent to fulfill his end of the bargain. "Turns out, you aren't as useless as you made yourself when you decided to hop the pond, little brother!"
"No, I'm pretty useless in most aspects, actually," Lucifer quipped, shaking his head slightly to try and relocate the pain anywhere other than his head.
"Probably the most self-awareness I've ever seen from you," Gabriel said incredulously. "But, no, you've gotten off too easy. Michael just barely scratched the surface, didn't he?" Gabriel asked, a knowing sparkle in his eyes and he lowered down to a squat in front of Lucifer. "Don't worry, I'm a better teacher."
Lucifer watched his brother stand back up and back away slightly, staring at him on the ground like a lion would stare at wounded prey. Taunting him, showing him he had been had. Game over, Lucifer. Freedom ain't free any more. "Can we get on with the lesson then, Teach? I really hate prolonging the inevitable."
Gabriel chuckled at that, laughing at how ironic that was. Lucifer basically handed him the segue on a silver fucking platter. "Pick up that expression here in America?" he asked, quirking his brows and running a hand down his face. "Tell me, is that what you call that sexy teacher of yours?" Lucifer's expression fell subconsciously as the blood coursing through his veins turned to shattered ice. He glared at Gabriel and clenched his jaw so he wouldn't say anything. "Oooh, did a strike a nerve, brother?" the larger man whispered, smirking as he turned his back on him for a brief moment.
Lucifer wasn't going to pretend he had no idea what Gabriel was talking about. He knew better than that, he knew that Gabriel had enough information regarding Chloe, or he wouldn't have brought it up. "She's nothing." Lucifer stated lowly, anger lacing in his words as he maintained his menacing glare towards his brother.
"Give me more credit than that," Gabriel scoffed, offended that Lucifer actually tried to reduce the significance for him. "I know who she is to you, and apparently, you're pretty smitten with this one." He's raising his eyebrows at him like he's daring for Lucifer to try to argue him on that. Lucifer averts his gaze and grimaces as he shifts his position slightly. "Now that you know that I know," Gabriel starts again, his finger going back and forth between them as he spoke. "There's something you have to do, call it extra credit, if you will, before my lesson." Lucifer just stares at him as if the man had grown two heads.
"What the hell are you going on about?" Lucifer asks him
"Trust me, I would love nothing more than to beat your miserable existence into the ground right now, brother, but this family repays its debts. I have a debt for the information I got on you, and you are going to fulfil that debt for me." Gabriel sneers at him, his grip in his hair and around his jaw unrelenting as his knees continued to dig into the flesh of his thighs. "Once you're done, you're the only one I'm worried about. I'll forget everything I know about Chloe Decker."
It was easy to feign ignorance, even though they both knew better, before he said her name. Hearing her name out slip past his vile lips made his stomach churn in that uncomfortably cold way after someone punches you in the gut. "What do you want?" he asked quietly, holding Gabriel's stare to make sure he brother could see the violence crouching behind brown eyes.
"That's it?" Gabriel asked in disbelief, shaking his head and propping his hands on his hips. "I say her name and suddenly you're reduced to being an obedient dog?" He stares at his younger brother for a moment longer, taking in his defeated resolve as he remained still, hands bound behind him like a slave. He averts his gaze before huffing in contempt to himself and beginning to pace. "You need to go have a little chat with someone. Convince them it's in their best interests to do as you say. That's it. No need to get violent. Just intimidating. I've been told he's very soft."
"Why aren't you doing this, brother?" Lucifer asked, gritting his teeth as he tried to adjust his wrists into a better position, but only managed to cut the plastic further into his skin. "You're the one with a hard-on for terrorizing people."
"This is my holiday, Lucifer," Gabriel informs him casually, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't feel much like doing tedious work."
"Your holiday is being spent wrangling me and fulfilling some duty? Doesn't sound like much of a good time."
"That's where you're mistaken, brother. Tracking you down, finding out your little secrets, showing you just how fucked you are," he sighed happily, body shivering as if overcome with pleasure. "That's the best fucking holiday I could ever ask for." The silence between them lingered for a few minutes, and Gabriel didn't seem bothered by it at all, if anything, he was grateful for not having to listen to Lucifer speak.
"So, what's the intel? Who am I having a discussion with?" Lucifer asked, emphasizing the word so Gabriel knew he understood. He did his best to keep his anxiety and anger at bay; upsetting Gabriel would do nothing for him or for Chloe. He had to take this dominance. He had to submit.
"1456 Centinela Avenue," Gabriel recited the address, crossing his arms over his chest. "All you need to know is that the source wants him to sign the new deal his lawyer sent over. He'll know what it's about." Lucifer glared at him and nodded his head. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall, his wrists still being sliced into by the zip-tie. Gabriel huffed out an exacerbated sigh before bending down and pulling Lucifer away from the wall. He grabbed the knife out of his pocket and cut the zip-tie precariously close to Lucifer's skin. He shoved the younger man back against the wall, but stayed crouched in front of him.
"You don't have to stop seeing her. I mean, shit, I wouldn't want to stop fucking that piece of ass, either. As long as you do as I say, I won't touch her or the kid." Lucifer was rubbing his wrists when the mention of Chloe's child made his blood run even colder. He made a move towards his brother, but all Gabriel had to do was hold up his hand, reminding Lucifer that he had all the leverage. Lucifer's metaphorical short leash was yanked, and he fell back against the wall in defeat. "Come on, little brother. It'll be like the good ol' days. Are you afraid you're going to like it, again?" Gabriel smirks at Lucifer before patting him lightly on the cheek. The younger brother pulls away from the touch, a disgusted expression on his face, making the older man chuckle. "Five days, or I'm paying Chloe a little visit," he warns him before straightening up and walking away, disappearing into the darkness once out of the glow from the street lights.
Lucifer remained against the wall, almost in disbelief, but the deafening ringing in his head and pounding thrumming against his skull provided the evidence that the event was real. There was a moment of panic, the idea that he had been found, caught, and had been so careless as to let anyone get close to him. He had become soft; he had allowed himself the prospect of freedom, and it had come back to bite him in the ass. He could feel the grip of his father's hands wrapping around his throat, squeezing the air from his lungs as laughing at his struggle.
He wasn't aware of how long he had stayed there, on the wet ground trying to keep his fear and anger at bay. It couldn't have been longer than a couple of hours, for when the first gradient of lighter blue started fading through the black, he knew he needed to get up, before anyone saw him. The walk to his car was on the wrong side of uncomfortable, but the damage done wasn't severe. He definitely had a concussion, he had definitely bled down his back, his wrists were stinging, and his temple was throbbing from the blows Gabriel landed on him. He hadn't had a beating like this in a long time, and his body was out of practice from pain like this. However, that was like riding a bike, by the time he was in his car, he was able to walk completely upright.
Once safe in the privacy of his car, he let his head fall to the steering wheel. He wanted nothing more than to go see Chloe. To hold her in his arms and just feel that she was okay. He knew Gabriel wouldn't do anything to her, yet, not until Lucifer pissed him off. That's how his family worked. You were safe, until someone didn't hold up their end. If that happened, nothing would stop what was coming. That was what he hated most. He knew how it all worked, he remembered every detail of how their organization ran, even after five years. All that shit was engrained into him, like he was some sleeper cell that just needed to be reminded of who he was, what he was.
But it was fine. He tried to keep telling himself that while he put his keys into the ignition. It was fine. He would do what Gabriel told him to do, take the fucking beating of his life, and if he managed to survive and not become a goddamn vegetable, he would figure out a way to barter for his release. That made him laugh. Like he was some sort of prisoner. However, that's how his family worked. That's how his father worked. Barter for what you want. Make deals for what you want. What he wanted was Chloe. He didn't think that was too much to ask. He'd allow himself to spend time with her, be present with her, but be vigilant. She was an innocent in this, her and her daughter. He felt sick again, and he forced himself to stop thinking about that. He had five days. Five days to do what was asked, five days until he could figure out his life.
As he drove home, he let himself pretend everything would be okay. He'd get to his apartment. Down the pills he could find, drink an entire bottle of whatever the fuck he could find, shower the blood and shame off of himself, and then call Maze. He was debating talking to Chloe. He was debating just driving to her house, waking her up, and kissing her like it was the last time he was going to. He couldn't let her see him like this. He needed to numb the fear out of his eyes before he saw her again. Sure, he could explain his appearance, but he couldn't lie about why he looked absolutely terrified. So numbing that, drowning that down with his coping mechanism of choice needed to come first. Then he could talk to her and not want to crumble. Then he could look into her eyes and make her feel like she deserved to feel. Then he could ignore the stabbing feeling he got in his chest because he knew he didn't deserve to even breathe the same air she did.
Maze was already in his apartment when he stumbled through his door. Initially, her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked ready to beat his face in, when she realized she was late to that party her mouth parted slightly. Before she could even ask, he nodded his head, grimacing at his fucked up reality, and went straight for the bottle of whiskey on the kitchen counter. She said nothing as she shuffled about, yanking the nightstand drawer out completely, contents flying everywhere, and grabbing the small baggie of pills. He popped four into his mouth and chugged a few gulps of liquor before sitting down on his couch. In that time, Maze had found a cloth and dampened it with warm water and sat next to him on the couch. She urged him to lean forward as she dabbed at the back of his head, cleaning the wound left by the tire iron. She waited for him to start talking, and after he had downed a fourth of the bottle, he started describing his little family reunion to her, and she just listened carefully while tending to broken skin on his head and face. By the time she had made it to his wrists, he had finished and was leaning back, eyes closed, just soaking in the comfort he could get. Maze just did what she did best, took in all his pain and frustration, cleaned away his blood, and let him feel everything he was going to feel without judgment.
A/N: okay... so some exciting news... I do have an ending planned for this story, and thanks to my good fried Nadia (More-More, you'll see her in the comments) you all will have a happy ending! I know, Luni, I know... how happy are you, since I wasn't sure it was going to happen. However, just a warning. It's going to get a HELL of a lot worse before it gets better. Just have a little faith in me... more smut to come... I promise! Stay on the dark side, we have the best time ;)