Sophia's Chronicles
Chapter 45: The Memories We Have
Previously on Sophia's Chronicles…
Sophia: Your son is dead. Please don't ask me anything else.
Lucifer: Finding Sophia and my son is my top priority now. Time for a little little space exploration trip.
..
Sophia: I need you to find Lucifer's old vessel and get him to say 'yes'.
Zara: You'd better come back. With answers.
..
Nick: You need me to say 'yes' to Lucifer again?
Zara: Yeah
Nick: All I'm asking for is to have some time to spend living my life before I give it all away to Lucifer. And I want you here with me.
..
Crowley: Guess who's King again.
Dean: Demons are still demons. And you didn't live up to your end of the deal.
Crowley: Dean, you squirrel. We're still on the same team. Just in case they decide to come back, we're going to need to fight them. Together. With those weapons… Fine, I'll issue a stand-down order. No more demons you need to worry about.
Dean: Alright. Just find the archangels quickly so that we can go back to killing each other.
..
Sophia: Khaos practically wanted to hold me prisoner… After all, what would be more worth my skills than the pursuit of the truth behind what happened to my kid?
Khaos: There is an age-old question at the centre of all that is and ever could be. And you are the answer to everything.
Sophia: This was a huge mistake.
..
Dean: I don't know, Bobby. But it's better than just sitting on our asses here. There has to be something!
Bobby: Some kind of faith healer named Emmanuel in Colorado… You wanted something. This is it.
Dean: So who named you Emmanuel?
Castiel: He betrayed you, this dude. He was your friend?
Meg: So, Dean, what's poor, dead Castiel doing in that junker out there?
Dean: We go straight to Sam. No detours.
..
Now…
(Dean POV)
Northern Indiana State Hospital, Logansport, Indiana – 26 July 2011, 7.54pm
"You're an angel," Meg blurted out. Dean rolled his eyes and looked to her. There were four demons blocking the entrance and Cas was the only one who could take them out. There was no time for Dean's hesitation.
"I'm sorry? Is that a flirtation?" the amnesiac angel was confused.
"No, it's a species. A very powerful one," she explained in her low, sly voice that always reminded Dean of a deceptive snake.
Dean sighed. It was time for the truth. "She's not lying. Okay? That's why you heal people. You don't eat. I'm sure there's more."
"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Castiel questioned. "Being an angel – it sounds pleasant."
"It's not, trust me. It's bloody, it's corrupt. It's not pleasant," Dean answered, anxious about what Castiel might do upon hearing this.
"He would know," Meg added. "You used to fight together. Bestest friends, actually."
"We're... friends?" Castiel's gaze flickered tensely between the two of them. "Am I Cas? I-I had no idea. I don't remember you. I'm sorry."
"Look. You got the juice. You can smite every demon in that lot," Meg stated plainly.
Castiel looked at the four demons, trying to envision how he might do that. Try as he might, nothing came to mind. "But I don't remember how," he said dejectedly.
Dean stepped forward, standing next to him. "It's in there. I'm sure it's just like riding a bike."
Castiel's blue eyes met his. "I don't know how to do that, either," he confessed. Dean sighed, pulling a hand down his chin. The angel took a deep breath. Chest filled with fear and uncertainty, he realized what he must do. "All right, I'll try." Dean nodded as Castiel strode headfirst into the group of demons.
"This ain't gonna go well," Dean remarked to Meg with a frown-riddled expression.
"I don't know. I believe in the little tree topper."
Step by step, 'Emmanuel' moved forward, feet treading on the damp gravel of the parking lot. The demons perked up at the whiff of angelic presence. The demon wearing a police uniform turned to him, shocked. "Hey, I know you. You're dead."
"Yes, I've heard," Castiel replied, grabbing the demon by his shirt. He was surprised at his own strength, observing how the demon swayed easily under his grasp. It was just a tingle at first, but he felt the light within him – the light from which he was created – waiting to be released. He put a hand to the demon's forehead and like a river, the energy flowed from him, annihilating the corrupted soul. Castiel simply stared, amazed. It was all coming back to him. Meeting Dean in that wooden shed, rebelling against Heaven, breaking the barrier in Sam's head, giving Crowley the wrong jar of blood for Purgatory, sending Raphael after Sophia, being interrupted by Sophia while trying to open Purgatory and getting exploded by the archangel once they got to Raphael. He remembered it all and before he knew it, he was standing over four dead demons. With that, one final memory came to mind. The moment when he was put back together. By God. He'd found himself dazed and confused on a river bank, unlike the previous time when his memory was intact and had been promoted to the rank of Seraph. What could this all mean? he began to wonder. Why did God erase my memory?
A rush of footsteps sounded behind him. Meg and Dean simply stared in awe. "That was beautiful, Clarence," Meg complimented.
"Cas?" Dean called out, hoping to find his angelic friend in the eyes of this stranger.
"I remember you," Castiel said, turning around to see the human who was so prominent in his returning memory. "I remember everything." His eyes roved over the ground, a sullenness betaking them. The burden of his actions weighed down on his mind. "What I did. What I became. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because Sam is dying in there," Dean answered.
"Because of me!" Castiel exclaimed, a repressed yet apparent exasperation in his voice. "Everything. All these people. I shouldn't be here." Overwhelmed by the impact of his own actions, he took off away from the hospital.
"Cas. Cas!" Dean called out after him. "If you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time," Dean tried convincing him.
"Don't defend me. Do you have any idea the death toll in Heaven? On Earth?" His jaw clenched at the thought of how many of his own kind he had slain in cold blood. All with the mad rush of power from the souls and the conviction that might was the only way to oust Raphael. He abruptly stopped and turned to face Dean. "We didn't part friends, Dean." It upset him to think of the lengths he'd gone to in order to push those that would help him away. He'd let Crowley kidnap Lisa and Ben. He'd set up a trail for Raphael to ambush Sophia and get her son – an innocent archangel child. Both were the actions of someone who was sick and unfit to watch over humans – it was unbecoming of what an angel should be. The memory of who he used to be terrified him.
"So what?" Dean pressed.
"I deserved to die," Cas sounded so convinced. "Now, I can't possibly fix it... So why was I put back together again?"
Dean only felt sorry for him. He saw the guilt in his old friend's eyes. He saw the yearning in them to take back all the bad things he'd done. It must be a heavy weight to carry. "Maybe to fix it," Dean suggested. "Wait," he beckoned as he opened the trunk of the Impala. His hands scoured in the darkness but eventually he felt the familiar texture of the khaki trench coat and pulled it out into the light. Castiel gazed upon it lovingly, seeing it as a mantle of an angel deployed to protect humankind. It had been with him through thick and thin. For an inanimate object, it had seen his brightest days and his blackest nights. It represented what he was and what he could be. Dean's expression seemed to plead him to take it back and become who he was supposed to be.
When Castiel donned the blood-stained coat again, he vowed to himself never to betray his friends again and to be more compassionate as he had always thought angels should be. It was a broken world and a broken Heaven he came back to and even if it seemed impossible, he would try as best as he could to fix it. Even if that meant adding bricks one by one to a wall from scratch. But that night, as he found out, he could only fix Sam and that too by sacrificing his own sanity.
(Zara POV)
Clarksburg, West Virginia – 29 July 2011, 9.02am
Zara's eyes drifted lazily open. She felt a heavy tiredness throughout her body and in her mind. Her limbs stretched out, feeling every muscle in her body. The space next to her on the bed was empty. Nick had gone off to work. The bed was warm. She didn't want to get up. She wrapped the blankets around herself and curled into a fetal position, her head slipping off the pillow. This was how her day began everyday. Though she had gotten a job, it was a night-time deal and she only had to go every other night. That meant that days were always lonely. She enjoyed spending time with Nick, sure, but he went to work on weekdays and wouldn't be home until 6pm or later. That left her alone most of the time, with only herself and her thoughts. Her dark, depressing thoughts about what she was doing here.
There was a cycle to her thoughts. It began with her dreams. The ones she'd been having since the day she'd come here. She dreamt of Luciel, the archangel son who was supposed to be Sophia and Lucifer's happily-ever-after. The son who she loved unconditionally and missed with a burning ache in her chest every time she thought of him. She prayed to him every night, though she knew deep inside that he probably couldn't hear her. In the beginning, she prayed that he was alright and safe. Then, as she struggled to fasten the memory of him to her mind, each day chipping away at the details she remembered from her time with him, she prayed that he would come back to her, that she would see him again, even if only so that she could remember how he looked like. In times like these, she found herself consulting the small palm-sized photograph she had of him when he was just an infant. She remembered the innocence in them and the purity of mind and spirit which she never found in herself. For someone who scoffed at the Christians who eagerly awaited Christ's second coming, she found herself feeling a similar emotion when thinking of her son. She could have been a sinner for letting Lucifer take her but this child made it all okay; he made it all worth it.
The next stage was the longing to be a mother again. Holding a child in her arms, rocking the infant on her shoulder, singing sweet melodies to him – she yearned for it from the deepest recesses of her soul. Sometimes she went into a daze just thinking about it, envisioning herself with a child in arms as she spun absently and ecstatically in the living room of the apartment as though dancing to a tune. She imagined a child's laughter ringing in her ears, bringing a smile to her face. The yearning was so strong at times that she couldn't help but stop and stare when she sauntered in a park and came across a young mother with a child. Once, she made conversation with a young woman who had a crying baby just so she could hold and comfort the child. Zara stared into the large brown eyes of the child which were moist with tears and she cooed and sang. The child quietened down quickly, awestruck by Zara's voice and luscious black curls which it grasped in its tiny fingers. The momentary satisfaction waned when Zara was once again left alone, to ponder on her lost motherhood while she puffed on a cigarette – courtesy of Nick, who'd shown her how to smoke them.
Finally, she'd wonder about Sophia. Where was her archangel? When was she coming back? Zara sometimes chuckled to herself, comparing her situation to the high-school girl who kept wondering when her crush would text back and always feeling like he was ignoring her. Some of her brightest memories had been those where she'd felt closest to Sophia, that primordial connection between them giving her life and energy. It always felt like they were meant to be. Sophia felt familiar, like a best friend you'd know since childhood or even a lover. That kind of connection was hard to find and most people never even find it – not to the extent Zara and Sophia had it anyway. Zara felt Sophia permeating her every being, knowing her mind inside and out, and she sensed no judgment from the archangel. Who else in her life could even know a fraction of the things she'd done as a teenager and not make some kind of harsh, snide remark about it?
It was at this point during the day in which she'd dig through that leather bag Sophia had left her with for the bronze hawk. It was what allowed her to sense Sophia in the first place. She'd gather the fist-sized artefact in her palms and sit by the window in the apartment, where the light streamed in. Then she'd close her eyes and focus on thoughts about Sophia, like she did when Lucifer had employed her help before. Most of the time, she felt nothing though sometimes she would pick up familiar vibes – the smell of old books, petrichor, the friendly companionship of trees, the sensations of cool water running through her fingers, the rush of air against her body and more. These were all things that reminded her of Sophia – things that made her admire and worship the archangel. Her mind would latch onto these threads in her consciousness, tugging and pulling at them like she was trying to find a door behind which Sophia would be waiting for her. However, all her efforts proved futile. If the archangel felt her calling out, she didn't care.
This was her life now. That morning, all her usual thoughts seem to coalesce as she lay awake on the bed, staring at the curtains which had a small parting that let in the light. It almost looked like a door to Heaven if you didn't look at the details closely enough. A buzzing feeling came from the centre of her head, growing stronger until she became dizzy and light-headed. For a moment, it felt euphoric. The room faded away as she closed her eyes to savour this feeling. It was probably a lack of nutrition causing it, but who cares, she thought. Then, as soon as the feeling came, it left. Half an hour passed. Zara's arms pushed her body up as she continued to stare straight at the sliver of light coming in through the window. Slowly, her bare feet touched the ground and she stood up. She reached a hand to the window, making her way slowly to it. Will you come back to me, my archangel? Her fingers touched the cold glass. Light shone on her skin but there was nothing magical there. The light was a deception. It was not the light she had hoped to see. It was a dim imposter of true angelic light.
I ran away from home for you. I left my whole life behind for you. I killed for you. These words swirled in her mind as she showered and made breakfast and later, lunch. There was no respite to the longing in her bones. It made her feel restless. Zara stared blankly at the steam rising from the hot pan on which she made lunch. She looked at the salmon as it cooked, its pink texture soft and savoury. But she wasn't hungry. She felt an itch under every inch of her skin. The sizzling sound of the meat rang in her ears until it was all she could think about. Her mind went blank. Her hand reached out to the pan slowly. She wasn't even thinking of consequences at this point. There was a sharp stinging sensation when her palm touched the edge of the hot pan and she quickly withdrew her hand, staring at the faint red streak forming on her skin. She felt a burning sensation and simply traced the streak with her other hand. Though it hurt, it was still a feeling and thus was a contrast to her typical inner numbness. She put her hand under running water to soothe it. It was barely noticeable a few hours later.
It was Friday that day, which meant she had to work at night. She threw on a pretty dress, with floral designs that men liked to see on her, and went out for a walk between 4 and 5pm. Though her shift at the pub started at 8pm, she had to come in earlier for a rehearsal and help out Cecil, her boss, with other duties. She found him to be very likeable as he always maintained a respectful distance and seemed like a noble enough person. All he wanted was to live an honest and virtuous life, a stark contrast to her failure of an attempt at one. That day, as she began walking towards the pub, she felt especially tired. She couldn't, for the life of her, understand why she was so tired all the time. She always slept for long hours and barely did anything strenuous in the morning – yoga at the most – so there was no reason for laziness to tug at her muscles. There was also a constant heaviness in her chest that she longed to be rid of and tried to distract herself with the sights of birds flying, of kids strolling with their friends, of couples walking hand-in-hand, but inevitably her mind returned to her own sorrows. She felt chained to her own mind.
That was when a strange thought occurred to her. She knew immediately that it wasn't the best idea. Yet, just as her mind always did in moments like these, she dismissed the warnings from the reptilian part of her brain and pursued this counter-intuitive drive. Her legs took her down this familiar path that she had come upon accidentally the day after she'd met Nick. Am I really doing this? Guess I am… she thought as she entered the empty street. This was the dangerous part of town, she'd been told. She remembered the buildings here when Nick had come to show her out of there. She also remembered where Nick had stabbed the robber who'd held a knife to her neck. She absently put a finger to her neck, remembering the small gash there which she'd tried to cover up with a bandaid. She'd gotten questions about it where she worked, sure, but she simply told the truth – she had gotten it while getting mugged. Her eyes drifted across the road to see the scene of the murder. It was cordoned off and the local PD had put several markers there and a chalk outline. Zara wondered if the police had any leads on Nick – not just this one murder but the others he'd committed. He was probably good at covering his tracks but even the best serial killers sometimes slipped up.
Zara smirked. Look at me, worrying about a serial killer. A serial killer who cared about her, nonetheless. Was it even genuine? Was he just using her to keep Lucifer away? If he was, it made it easier for her to be emotionally-detached. If she didn't care about wanting to be with him, she would have no qualms about completing what she came here to do – get Lucifer his old vessel back. This doubt about whether what she had with Nick was real or not really took root in her mind. If she wanted, she could call Lucifer right now and get it all over with. But she'd promised Nick one month and a promise was a promise. Being emotionally-distant made the idea of summoning Lucifer a month later more palatable. After all, half a month had passed. Two more weeks were left. Only two.
As she contemplated these things, she found herself arriving at her destination – a dilapidated parking lot with a fence and graffiti-ed walls. The teenager with the baggy hoodie stood at the exact same spot she remembered him to be at, browsing something on his smartphone while occasionally looking around himself. His head jerked up as he noticed her approaching him. Under that hoodie, Zara could see his almost-bald head with short black hairs. He frowned slightly, his blue irises bearing into her eyes, as he regarded her with suspicion. His lower lip quivered nervously and his hands seemed to replicate this tremor as he nervously held onto his phone. "You need something?" he raised his head at her, his nose ring bobbing with it.
"Got any coke?" she asked authoritatively.
"I dunno what you talkin' 'bout, lady," the kid muttered as his eyes returned to the phone screen.
"Sure you do. Cocaine, dust, snow, whatever you call it. I want some," she said firmly, maintaining a steely gaze on him.
He studied her expression though his wavering gaze suggested that she was making him anxious. "You a cop?"
Zara rolled her eyes. "No." She took out a small switchblade and triggered it. She pointed the shiny blade at him. "Do you want me to prove it to you?"
The kid flinched. "Okay, okay," he relented, holding his hands up in a half-surrender. "I don't want no trouble." He relaxed when she put the blade away. "Follow me."
Later, Zara leaned against a brick building as she looked at the tiny plastic sachet in her palm. The white crystalline solid gleamed from inside it. 250 milligrams. It was more than enough for her. At least this time she knew her limits and could consume as much as she knew she could handle. But the question was whether she should take some now. She remembered what it was like to be high on cocaine, though it was a distant memory. She remembered the rush of energy and the euphoria. Her first time had been in a party she wasn't supposed to be at in a neighbourhood she wasn't supposed to even know, when she was sixteen. She'd snuck out of home to see her then-boyfriend, who happened to be selling drugs. He'd set up a line for her and egged her on to try it. She was hesitant at first, but everything she did was a rebellion. She had such a deep resentment for her family and people around her that she no longer cared about what anyone thought and wanted to do things that would horrify them, even if they never actually found out. It gave her a thrill like no other.
What would Nick say? People at work could also notice her change in behaviour if she did some coke now. Another time, then. She stashed the packet in her handbag and headed to the pub as though nothing had changed.
(Lucifer POV)
Somewhere in space
The scarlet-eyed archangel scanned the vacuum of space. There had to be a clue somewhere. He'd scoured the earth for too long and he was sure she wasn't there. He knew her habits and patterns. If she really didn't want to be found, she wouldn't remain on the green and blue planet. Earth certainly wasn't her favourite planet – there were plenty more that vied for her attention. It was something he admittedly didn't understand about her. She'd practically created Earth with God, yet she wasn't as attached to it as He was. She loved its nature, sure, but she preferred the planets that came together on their own, without God or anyone spurring them on.
"There is something beautiful even in the things that God rejects," he remembered her saying once, while they were still in Heaven.
"You haven't seen the Leviathans," Lucifer had replied, to her responding with a punch to his arm.
What delightful times those had been. When Sophia had a smile on her face all the time, when they used to surprise each other, when he knew how and when to please her. Though it was in Sophia's nature to worry and be cautious, Lucifer had managed to sneak under her skin and crack a smile on her face even in the most impossible of circumstances. But now those times seemed so far away and all that was left was a void in his heart left by her absence. Her bright laughter filled his head as another memory came to surface…
"Lucifer, you're an open book. Can we talk about something that's not you?" Sophia quipped. They were both sitting on the edge of a floating cliff, which had a great view of the other floating cliffs, some of which had magnificent waterfalls that poured into the cloudy abyss below. His fingers caressed her hand as he raised an eyebrow at her, caught by surprise at her jibe. Though he couldn't be too bothered by it – he always did talk about himself.
"Oh I'm sorry," he said unapologetically, eyes narrowing. "I do want to talk about you but you never share anything about yourself with me."
"I…" she stuttered. Her eyes zoned out as unknowable thoughts rose in her head. "I don't know what to share. What do you want to know?"
"Hm. Let's start simple. What's your favourite colour?" A faint smile grew on his face as he watched her think hard about it. He thought she looked really cute putting so much thought into a simple question. She had her knees pulled up to her chest, her eyebrows crinkling ever so slightly as her eyes searched for the answers in thin air and her golden wings fluttering in slow back-and-forth movements with the wind.
"It's hard to pick a favourite… all colours are beautiful," she finally answered. She had this sullen look on her face like she was sad that colours were subject to favouritism in the first place. It was almost child-like. Then she pouted and shook her head slowly. "Don't have a favourite."
"Alright… what about flowers? What's your favourite flower?"
Once again, she thought long and hard about it. Her eyes averted guiltily before meeting his again. With a meek voice, she simply said, "All flowers are beautiful." Her smile said she knew he would roll her eyes at that but her eyes rued his judgment.
"Oh come on," Lucifer lamented.
"What? They really are!" she rebutted.
"But you have to have a favourite, Sophie! You just have to," he argued playfully, not really making a case for it. "Try at least."
Sophia let out an audible exhale. "I don't know what to tell you, Luci. Truth is, I don't really know what I like and don't like. I'm still trying to figure it all out." When she said this, her hand grasped his and their fingers intertwined naturally. It may have been just a passing remark from her, but he thought about it a lot. It had been a sufficiently long time since she'd been brought to Heaven by God and he always thought she settled in well. But this made him realise that maybe she still felt out of place. He would never have suspected it and she never would have talked about it explicitly. But I don't want you to feel that way! he thought but never said. Instead, he decided to make use of the element of surprise.
Later, as she returned to her residence, an office that God had given her from the capital, she stopped in her tracks at the front yard. "Oh Lord," she gasped, a wide grin brightening her face as she saw the overwhelming abundance of jasmine bushes planted at her feet. The fresh fragrance of the flowers wafted in the air and she bent down to caress and care for them. That's when he appeared behind her. "Lucifer! Did you do this?" she asked, giggling.
"Personally, these are my favourite flowers. I just thought… since you don't have a favourite… we could share mine," he explained as she neared him and took his hands. She looked intently at him as he said this, genuinely interested in what he had to say. She looked between the bushes and him and for a moment her eyes bore into his, not saying anything. "What?"
"I…" she huffed, her smile settling into the bubbly curves of her rosy cheeks as she continued to hold his scarlet gaze. "I think I know what my favourite colour is."
"Wha-oh" She cupped his face with her hands and pulled him in for a kiss, stopping only to gaze into his eyes. Not wanting to stop there, he grabbed her by the waist and took her inside for more.
A dull ache radiated from his chest as he remembered how beautifully their love had blossomed over the years. It had been an eventful adventure of trying things together and finding out what they both enjoyed. But most of all, they enjoyed each other. Plenty of those memories, he chuckled to himself. Turning his attention back to the planets, he visited all her favourites – one with a pastel-pink sky and sand, which had an extremely long shoreline, was among them. He remembered it from the time she had taught him how to meditate. It was during the time he was infected by the Mark of Cain and though it did little to help him, he deeply appreciated her unwavering support. Who knows what kind of monster he would have truly become without her by his side?
Just as he recalled those tumultuous times, he spotted something. There were these faint glowing marks in space, of a light golden shine that looked like paint smeared on planets. They were so degraded and dull that you wouldn't even notice them on first sight. He saw them on multiple planets, gas giants and even stars. Holy shit, he thought. A trail? She left a trail? His first instinct was to question whether it was really her who left these marks. The material used seemed ancient and decomposing, like it had been there for a really long time. But given that he had never encountered this material before, he couldn't tell how long it had been. He simply followed the trail, hoping it would lead him to her.
Soon enough, he reached the end of the trail and what he saw confused and shocked him simultaneously. A golden-coloured planet with glowing sand, resembling the marks he'd seen earlier. As he landed on the planet where Aphelia's Arch was situated, he looked around in amazement. "What is this?" he asked himself in surprise. In all his life, he'd never come upon this place before. It was uncharted territory. He noticed the abandoned, lifeless buildings and went in all of them. He came out of them disappointed that there was no one or nothing there. That was when he spotted the magnificent structure – the large arch, with its intricate patterns, was embedded into a strange-looking wall which had a dark, wavy texture. Slowly, he approached the arch, feeling like a kid again when he used to explore the universe on his own.
(Sophia's POV)
The Omniverse, The Void
"Well, well, what do we have here?" I heard Khaos Theta ask. I looked up from my position in front of several monitors. Watching random events in other universes was the only pastime I had other than brooding by the windows. "This isn't supposed to happen…"
I frowned. That sounded dubious. Was He tricking me? Nothing happened around these parts that Khaos didn't want. I went over to Him and followed His gaze to a screen. I gasped. "What is he doing here?" I exclaimed. I saw Lucifer, standing in front of the Arch.
"Honestly, I don't know," Theta replied, his voice monotonous as if He was puzzled.
"Is this some sort of joke?" I glared at Him accusatorily. "You said you only wanted me! You said you'd leave him out of this!" As relieved as I was to see Lucifer, this wasn't what I wanted at all. He was supposed to be on earth, in his old vessel, with Zara. Not here! He could be in danger.
"I am true to my word, Sophia. I did not make this happen," Theta denied.
"You're lying!" I was seething at this point. How dare He bring Lucifer into this? As if our arrangement wasn't bad enough for me. He held me in here like some kind of prisoner and worked me like a slave, providing little in the way of answers. Maybe I was doomed to this prison but I wouldn't let Lucifer become part of it. I stormed towards the door that led to the Void. I was stopped abruptly when Theta grabbed me by the wrist and spun me around.
"Listen to me," He spoke menacingly. "I have no reason to lie to you. But if you insist on this childishness, I will hurt him. Understand?" I held His gaze with an intensity I had never known before, nodding slightly to show my reluctant agreement. I wanted to challenge Him more but my lower lip trembled uncontrollably. "Good. Now wait here." He eased His grip on my wrist and I jerked my hand away from Him.
While He left, I rubbed my wrist, finding marks on it left by Him. For someone who claimed to care about me, even if it was in a twisted, maniacal way, He sure didn't hesitate to hurt me. Once, I had challenged Him on His refusal to give me any real answers and threatened to leave. Let's just say that what happened next was disturbing. He'd locked me up in a small cell in complete darkness for daring to speak to Him in a harsh tone – His temperament was largely unpredictable (on some days, He was fine with my questions and on others He was really not). He'd said some extremely harsh things to me which I do not wish to recall because it induced a crawling sensation under my skin from how disturbing it was. A shudder jolted me as I remembered what came next. A vile, perverted being, He was – that I found out the hard way, with Him doing unimaginable things to me in that small cell. I'd… felt shattered… and violated.
"I'll let you out if you apologise," He'd said, as I lay on the invisible floor, curled up. I was shaking all over, unable to believe what had just happened. No one had ever treated me like this before. It felt like the lowest of the lowest ways you could treat another being. If He'd intended to break me, He had succeeded in that moment. I was utterly powerless to do anything else. For a long while, I'd remained in that cell, preferring its claustrophobic loneliness to His presence. Occasionally, I'd hear this strange sound, like someone was rapping on the walls. I tried calling out and seeing if anyone was there, but all I'd gotten in response was more knocking and rapping. Realising that it was probably just another way for Khaos to screw with me, I ignored it.
After the initial shock wore off, I only felt anger. I was never raised to give up easy, though in that moment I was finding it hard not to. I swore in my mind to get my revenge. To find my son and find God or something to help me defeat this monster. I didn't know how yet, but I would do it. I would do it from right under His amorphous nose and He would be none the wiser. So I played along. I did apologise.
"You're not being sincere," He'd waved it off, that dick-head. So I apologised again, putting on the most victimised expression I could summon, though scorn was all that filled me. "Oh Sophia," He sighed. "I forgive you." He'd said it like it laboured Him to do so. He opened the door and I stepped out. The first thing I noticed was a long hallway, with several more cells just like mine. My eyes narrowed. Why were there so many cells? How many people did He keep in here and why? But before I could pursue these questions, He'd teleported us back to His office to carry on as if nothing had transpired between us.
The rumbling static of the Void coming through the screen snapped me out of my thoughts. I watched in nervous anticipation as Theta came out of the Arch to meet Lucifer. "Who the hell are you?" Lucifer asked. I let out a sharp exhale, more relieved than I wanted to admit at the sound of his voice. I wished so bad that I could be reunited with him again. My fingers traced the screen, roving over his scarlet hair and angled cheekbones. Every inch of me wanted to be there with him.
"Now, is that any way to greet your Uncle?" Theta said, opening up His arms in welcome. His long, thin fingers looked like talons. His stick-like limbs along with His bony abdomen made Him look more unsettling than He already was.
Lucifer regarded the being before Him with scepticism. "I don't have an Uncle," he stated resolutely.
"That's just like God isn't it, to omit important details?" Theta lamented. "I am Khaos, older sibling to God and Amara."
"Khaos…" Lucifer repeated the name. He must be remembering it.
"Say, nephew, how would you like to become more powerful?" Theta proposed. "I hear you have a nasty vendetta against a certain terrestrial species."
"Huh?" Lucifer's eyebrows crinkled, mystified by the turn of the conversation. Then, his eyes eased like he was seriously considering the proposition. Oh no, a sense of dread filled me. Don't take the bait, Lucifer.
"Just say the word, and I'll give you all the power you want. Bet your daddy never told you that, huh?" Theta smirked. "I have a neat little instrument that could do just the thing…" He went on like a salesperson. I grew alarmed at the way Lucifer looked at Him curiously. You idiot, I began cursing him, frightened by the possibility that he was even listening to a word coming from Khaos. Unable to help myself, I charged out of the door into the Void.
"I don't know…" Lucifer trailed off, the puzzled expression never leaving his face. As I neared the Arch, panic growing within me, Theta casually turned around, His eyes expertly catching mine in the darkness briefly before turning back to Lucifer. It was a warning. I halted, close enough to the Arch to listen to their conversation but not enough to be seen.
"I could even give you a tour of my home," He offered, pointing a thumb over His shoulder at the Void. Shit. My breathing grew heavier. "If you'd be willing to step inside for a moment."
Lucifer stared into the Void and I desperately hoped he wouldn't see me because if he did… I didn't want to think about it. He squinted. From his perspective, I imagined that all he could see was darkness. Then, he frowned, taking a step back. "I didn't come here to make friends. I'm looking for someone," he declared resolutely. "And no offense, but I've never met you so… stranger danger and all that." I heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God. "Do you happen to know where Sophia is?" he asked. I felt my heart breaking. He'd come all this way in search of me? I didn't know whether to feel annoyed that he didn't give up or flattered that he didn't move on with his life yet.
"The hybrid? Should I?" Theta feigned ignorance.
"Your name is inscribed on the vault. I'd think you'd know something," Lucifer grew suspicious. "What did it mean anyway? The last condition?"
"It's just a formality," Theta waved it off. "You see, God employed my help to construct the vault. That condition was just my way of exacting… payment from Him. Not to worry though, all debts have been cleared." Theta glanced back at the Void, provocatively eyeing me.
"You constructed it? But I thought that angel did?" Lucifer probed. He was probably referring to Hassiel, since the archangels revealed that they had enslaved him to build the cage and the vault before trapping us in them.
"Hassiel may have built the vault physically, but those were my blueprints, my materials and my minions you saw in there," Theta explained. "Alright, this has been nice, but if you aren't staying for tea…"
"Wait," Lucifer stopped Him. "You must know something. Have you seen her around here?"
"I'm afraid not," Theta lied.
"You're an all-powerful being," he sounded exasperated. "You must be able to do something to help me. Summon her, locate her, whatever."
"Sorry kid, I don't care enough to get involved in your relationship," Theta dismissed. "If she's so hard to find, maybe she doesn't want to be found. And as much as it saddens me to say it, she's probably left you for good." I wanted to scream right there and then. He was planting an idea in his head of me that I would never want him to think. Seeing the dejection on Lucifer's face made my chest ache. But it was probably best that he didn't come probing around these parts again. Hesitantly, Lucifer turned, flexing his wings and taking off. All of my hope drained away to see him leave.
In an instant, I felt myself being slammed against the wall. I gasped. When my eyes adjusted to the sudden change, I realised that I was back in the Omniverse. Khaos had me pushed up against the wall and was now rapidly approaching me. His telekinetic grip pressed hard against me. I couldn't even flinch. "Did you just disobey me, Sophia?" His tone was sharp. His sharp fingers caressed my cheek. He let out a chuckle. "Do you realise how many of your problems are caused by your own disobedience?"
"Screw you," I uttered.
He clenched His fist, twisting my insides. He roared in anger as I screamed in pain. I don't know how much time passed before He stopped but when He did, I felt immensely dizzy as I fell to the ground. "You know, I'm tired of this. Of me trying to connect with you and you not cooperating with me. Don't you realise the potential of our teamwork?" He ranted. I slowly got back up on my feet, still in pain. "I'm going to give you one more chance. If you disobey another order, I'll have to wipe your memory. Do you want that, princess?"
"No," I weakly mumbled. "I won't disobey again."
"Good."
A/N:
So that one was for all of you who wanted more Lucifer/Sophia (I know that sounds like I'm trolling you and I'm sorry about that haha). But you never know what might happen next to bring them together. As you can see, this chapter is all about remembering things. I enjoyed writing it so I might try doing more of these if you'd like.
Okay so Cas is not dead, he is surely alive. And you might recognise this part as him taking on Sam's damage from the cage. Then you might wonder, if Purgatory isn't open, how will he ever face his guilt and recover from the damage? Oh, don't worry, there is plenty of opportunity for that.
And poor Zara is going back to her old ways. Will she touch that cocaine? Will she hit rock-bottom without Sophia around? I sure hope not.
Oh and I hope that the recap at the beginning was alright. I'm not sure if it's alright or uninformative so do let me know what you guys think of that and I'll improve on it.
