Lucifer was walking through Hell. Hands in his pockets, eyes glancing back and forth to confirm himself alone, he let his feet carry him down the path that he had grown accustomed to. Row upon row of doors appeared on his right and on his left, offering slight hints as to who was trapped behind them. A whisper here, a song there, and screams, so many screams everywhere. It was all faint, as if it was much farther than just right on the other side of each door. And he was more than okay with this. His shoes clicked down the smooth stone path, leaving echoes in their wake.

Ash flickered in and out of view as it swam through the hazy air. The heat was stifling, but the suit he wore, a remnant of his former life, remained untouched and unwrinkled. The red pocket square sat slightly askew, but he paid no attention to it now.

He had arrived at his destination. This would be the eighth visit he had partaken in since his return to this dismal place. Bracing himself, he set a devilish grin on his face and pushed the door open, loudly announcing, "Bless me Father, for I have sinned!"

Lucifer sauntered through the door, walked through the entrance room and faced the inside of a cathedral made out of white, arched stone and a dark, wooden ceiling. Windows stretched on either side up above in classic gothic fashion. Warm light glowed against artwork on the walls. He paused at the back of the main aisle. In front of him stretched rows and rows of gray carpeted seats, most of them empty. Standing on either side of the aisle were two statues. He had entered the Hell loop at the back of a long line of people, waiting to enact their punishment. Where he stood, it was silent. Farther up the line, he heard murmuring and farthest ahead were loud voices. The loudest of them all was yelling, "WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP MY DAUGHTER? DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER HER NAME? YOU NEVER CARED FOR US-"

Behind him, the door back to Hell shut with a boom that echoed through the large room. Lucifer huffed and followed the familiar path to the right of the line and up the side aisle. Around him, stone columns rose from the ground and met with the arches in glorious display. Centered in these joinings were statue depictions of angels. He rolled his eyes and continued forward. Those in line took no notice of him, for he was not there for them to punish.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" The voice continued, echoing through the chamber. He was almost there now and could hear the pleading of the recipient of the accusations. Red carpet gave way to stone and then a horribly clashing bright green carpet where the subject of his inquiry was located. Behind stood the tall, proud altar, more statues, and a series of paintings of religious figures he couldn't be bothered to remember.

"Yes, yes, all good," Lucifer announced as he came to a halt at the front of the line. With a wave of his hand, the people in line disappeared to reveal a hunched over figure on the steps to the altar, sobs wracking his body as he continued to mutter to himself. Lucifer cleared his throat loudly. He wasn't here for crying, and this suit couldn't stand that kind of stain. The man lifted his head and shook it, as if to shake off the torment he had just been in. Straightening up, he sighed, wiped his eyes, and met Lucifer's with a surprisingly neutral expression.

"Back again so soon?" Father Kinley's voice was hoarse and impassive, a combination that suited him. Lucifer huffed again and produced a glass of water, presenting it to the other.

"I have more important places to be," he mentioned lightly as Father Kinley brought the glass to his lips. "I could leave again if you like." He raised his eyebrows and shot a smirk towards the priest. Father Kinley raised one arm to stop him as he finished the glass in full, which took a few precious seconds.

"No, you can stay," he replied a bit too quickly. His voice sounded better now. Lucifer waved his hand and the glass refilled. This was all formalities; souls in Hell did not need water to survive. He was sure the idea of being offered the glass helped distract from any recent torment. He settled into the first pew, crossing his legs and his arms.

"You have to be getting close now," he commented silkily as his eyes glanced slowly to the now-empty aisle and back to the priest. "How many more are you going to remember?"

Father Kinley swallowed – Lucifer could see he was still inwardly shaken from his torture.

"I did nothing for them," he articulated lowly. "They came to me and I, so focused on the hunt, never helped them. I betrayed my oath."

"You're not the first priest to think of himself," Lucifer replied smoothly, flashing a grin. "We have more priests down here than you may think. But enough about that, let's talk about me."

"You come here, stop my punishment, just to talk," Father Kinley stated. He sighed and stood up, beginning to walk towards him. "I've already told you everything about my time with Chloe. I told you how I ended up here. I don't know what more I can do to help you."

"Maybe that's just it," Lucifer said, grinning further. "I'd like to confess."

Father Kinley blinked and the edges of his well-etched frown curved upwards for just a moment.

"I don't see how the devil confessing to me will help his position," he responded as he turned around again. "All I could offer you is to say a few hail marys and read your scriptures."

"That book gets the important details wrong," Lucifer informed him as the grin died on his face. "What I want is somebody to talk to me, to keep me from going mad here. And since it's your fault I'm stuck back here, you won the prize." He tilted his head and smiled again, said smile not reaching his eyes.

"Very well."

Father Kinley came back and scooted past Lucifer to sit down. There was a good 2 feet between them, but that was the closest contact he had had since he'd left earth. Lucifer took a deep breath, still fighting to remember all that was threatening to become lost in this despairing place.

"What would you like to talk about?" the father asked, arms at his side. Lucifer leaned forward, eyes focusing on the religious artwork above the altar. The faces staring down were silent and foreboding. This whole place was against what his very existence stood for. He didn't know why he kept coming back here.

"Where are we?" Lucifer questioned, his thoughts distracted. "Where on earth was this place?"

This seemed to throw the father off, because he inhaled sharply and didn't speak for a moment.

"Well? Father?"

"My home," Father Kinley finally uttered, and Lucifer felt the other's gaze move away from him to follow where he was staring. "St. Mary's Church. It's in Bath."

Lucifer let out a non-comital noise to show he had heard, but was silent for longer. Despite his chosen accent, he had never visited England, let alone Bath. Was it a nice place? Were the people fun to be around? He hadn't done nearly enough with his time on earth, and now he was beginning to regret it.

"I miss her." The words had slipped out of his mouth before he even realized he had said them, before cursing himself inwardly for showing emotion. He had to get better at it!

"I figured as much," Father Kinley murmured, and Lucifer could feel his stare once again. He pointedly looked straight ahead, wondering how much like therapy he could take this.

"I finally had her," he mused out loud. "We were finally on the same page. She told me she loved me, you know. Even after I went full 'devil' with her there." Saying the facts out loud was satisfying. It brought a gnawing feeling back to his stomach, one that reminded him of his ill-timed fate.

"If you aren't here in Hell, who rules Hell?" Father Kinley asked in return. "You were needed here. You're not meant to interact with the humans. You belonged back here."

"Yes, yes, I know," Lucifer said, his voice becoming sour. "I know what your little club believed. But did you stop to think for one moment that I'm not just some faceless monster? That perhaps Dad placing her in my path wasn't a bad thing?"

"The prophecy states –"

"Blast the prophecy!"

Lucifer took a deep breath, only meant for action. There was no need to breathe down here in Hell. He composed himself, leaning forward once more and putting his hands in his lap. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

"If it hadn't been," he said through gritted teeth, "for your stupid prophecy, none of this would have happened. It was self-fulfilling."

Father Kinley remained silent for a few moments, and Lucifer wondered if he should leave. Let Hell get back to punishing the priest as he should be punished. He was quick to smile at this thought. This is what the Father deserved for ruining everything for him.

And yet, he also felt a little sick thinking about it. Surrounded by all this pain and misery once more, it was draining on his very soul. He wasn't the same devil as when he had left this place, years and years ago. He had changed and part of him was terrified to admit that.

"I'll leave you be now," Lucifer said quietly. "The door's open. But I'm not sure even you want yourself to leave." He felt his eyes flash as he finally looked to meet Father Kinley's. The father's eyes were nervous, scared even. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this was all worth it. Shaking off that thought, he stood up and buttoned his suitcoat. "Keep in mind that I'm in charge down here," he retorted. "I can make your existence worse." He waved his hand and the line was back. Father Kinley glanced behind him and seemed to go white. Lucifer didn't care. This was the other man's fault, anyhow. He strode back down the side aisle as the torture began once more. He was grinning now, but inside he was trying to suppress a softer, gentler voice saying this wasn't the way. It was, wasn't it?

He closed the door behind him with a flourish. Back into the mostly-silent hell, the heat and dark despair. Already he missed the horribly clashing colors of Father Kinley's Hell loop, which was ridiculous. He strode away, trying to clear his head of such nonsense.

His mind indeed became clear when he rounded the familiar path and saw it blocked up ahead by a shocking, welcome face.

"Amenadiel?"