Ella yanks uneasily at the hem of her sweatshirt and then shoves her hands in the center pocket. She is not looking forward to Tribe Night. It's the first inaugural one since she's come home to Los Angeles. She sees Maze and Eve often enough hanging out at Linda's, but school is almost back in for the fall, and Chloe and Trixie have returned back from Budapest and the filming of, Ella is sure, some incredibly fun B-grade schlock Chloe's mom was filming.

But Eve and Maze canceled last minute because apparently Eve caught a cold.

Somehow, Ella's not sure that's legitimate. It's possible, sure. Eve's the first woman, but she's apparently as vulnerable as any of them but Maze, herself. Still, Ella isn't a CSI anymore, but she's not dumb either, and this smells a bit like a set up. So, as she shuffles from foot to foot outside of Chloe's door, she's not really sure what to expect. But when one of your best friends is a detective and the other a shrink, Ella's pretty sure an intense third degree is part of it.

Chloe opens the door after the second doorbell ring, and Ella can already smell the pizza she had delivered from inside. She might be anxious, but pepperoni is melting some of her defenses, so is the temptation of speaking again to someone new and being in a place that hasn't exploded with Tyco and Lego stuff all over.

You know, like a real grown up.

She rushes forward, a bit surprised herself, at how nice it is to see Chloe again, even if her replies during the last few weeks to Chloe's constant and thoughtful check in texts have been short and vague by design. Ella hasn't been ready to talk about anything, and yesterday with Amenadiel is pretty much the most she's said about her trip or Michael or any of it to her friends since coming home.

But it's been months since she's seen Chloe, and it feels so good to hug the other woman. Yeah, Ella's hurt and tired and confused more often than not-how could she not be-but at least Chloe has always been understanding before, kind even about Rae Rae back when Ella thought she was the world's most limited psychic.

Or crazy.

Some days, she still thinks it has to be the latter.

Linda breaks up the moment and holds up her loot. "Figured we could get Tribe Night, well trio night, fully inside. I brought merlot and some chardonnay, so time to unwind."

Ella lets go of Chloe after one extra squeeze and goes straight to the counter. She eagerly scoops up her first couple slices of pizza but opts for soda. Wine would dull her a bit to the coming Spanish Inquisition, which, yeah would make it less painful, but she wants to keep her wits about her as much as she can. She knows how good Decker is at grilling people even without Lucifer and his eye mojo/desire trick. So, she settles for a cola instead.

Good thing about an apartment with a pre-teen in it, plenty of soda to steal.

Ella sits down at the far end of Chloe's battered sleeper sofa and crosses her legs under her. Chloe takes the middle seat soon enough with a merlot in one hand. Linda, probably wisely, has just brought both wine bottles and a few extra glasses with her.

Ella arches an eyebrow at the psychiatrist. "Is that going to solve our problems tonight?"

"I'm off the clock, and I think sometimes a little liquid courage can't hurt," Linda replies honestly. "Also, it's nice to feel like an adult and do things that are not infant-appropriate. Wine makes that list."

Chloe laughs. "I remember those days. Barely. It's bleary almost thirteen years later, but I felt like I didn't talk to a grown human except at night when Dan came home for almost a year. It was…a lot."

Ella picks at her pizza, starting by taking off each pepperoni methodically and sorting them in a pile. "Yeah, I think Amenadiel's glad I'm bumming around a lot too. I don't think he'd talk to that many people outside of the playground parents if I wasn't there."

Chloe nods and sips her wine. And Ella watches her friend get serious, her brow knitted in concern. "How are you really, Ella?"

"Fine, you know, considering everything," she says, which is a lie. Linda flat out knows it after a month at her place, and since Decker is anything but an idiot, she's going to see through it too. But Ella just…she's been dreading this since she left Los Angeles, since long before she even met Michael, trying to reconcile everything swirling around in her with what her friends expect. Because the Ella before Pete and whoever she is now…they aren't the same, and she's not even sure if they're compatible either. "But really, you went to Europe again for a big, ole chunk of time, and that sounds way cooler. I've never been to Hungary. Was it fun?"

"It was pretty neat, and Trixie wanted to see everything, and I'm sure if you look at her social media, you'll catch up on all the highlights pretty fast," Chloe replies.

"Probably the lowlights too," Linda adds.

"Huh?" Ella asks.

Chloe shakes her head. "There was this farm visit thing in the countryside, like an eco-tourism idea that Trix wanted to try. I lost the heel of my best boot to a pretty intense goat. Mom lost her favorite earring. Pretty sure I'll never hear the end of that one."

"Whoa. What did Trix lose?"

Decker snorts. "Her phone. Damn thing bit it in half. So, yeah, that is definitely the trip lowlight."

Linda nods. "Glad all the petting zoo animals around L.A. are better trained."

"Professional goats. Need to check their credentials next time," Chloe adds.

And in this insane, crazy moment, Ella can't resist blurting a question out. She shouldn't because it'll just drag up everything she's been trying to avoid but the thought of goats and cloven hooves and it just comes out:

"So, is it true?"

Linda and Chloe look at each other and blink in confusion.

"What? That those dumb things eat everything. Yes, I'll say yes for sure," Chloe says.

She shakes her head and just forges on, despite the comfort of denial. "No, the goat stuff like…you know?" She quirks her head and considers them both. "…or maybe you don't? I guess neither of you are religious, but then Satan's not really all that described in the actual Bible. But, you know, horns and stuff?"

Chloe keeps blinking at her and, if possible, looks a little flushed. Linda erupts in giggles and tops off her wine.

"No," the doctor says between laughs, gasping to get the words out. "No, he's not. No horns or hooves."

Ella feels a little stupid for asking the question, but everyone always said angels had wings and Rae Rae and Amenadiel certainly do, amazing ones. So why wouldn't Lucifer have horns or goat things? And she blushes too, thinking that "goat things" could have included a lot.

Linda shakes her head hard. "No, I mean, most of the time he's pretty much what you see is what you get."

"Wait and when he's not?" she asks, confused by Linda's words.

Chloe sighs and sets her drink down on the table before folding her napkin in her lap. "Sometimes he looks different. Angels self actualize."

She nods, knowing Michael mentioned that before, but not really sure what it meant. He had a theory that maybe he'd done at least part of his changes to himself, that he was female now because…because he'd hurt Lucifer's girlfriend, the Miracle.

Ella's eyes wide. "Holy shit."

"Yes, I can tell you as the mother of a possibly might get powers anyway one day half-angel, the psychosomatic parts of their powers are intimidating. Try getting a teenager not to sulk," Linda says.

"Or a Lucifer," Chloe adds.

Ella shakes her head and sets her slice on the nearest table. "No, I mean…everything clicks together differently sometimes. I just thought it had it all at least solid in my brain, you know?"

Both women still seem confused but watch her thoughtfully, giving Ella space to continue.

"I mean," Ella clarifies. "It's just…some of Michael's problems, he thought they were self-inflicted. He tried to explain the self-actualization thing but it seemed too intense. It wasn't that I didn't believe it. I mean, you see a dayglow chinchilla and an archangel scare the shit out of someone, what else is that weird?"

"A what?" Chloe asks.

Linda sets a hand on the detective's shoulder. "Just wait for it. I'll explain Pepe later, promise."

"Anyway," Ella continues. "he thought part of his issues weren't just his dad punishing him but him doing it to himself. I'm not sure, but it makes a little more sense, maybe, if Lucifer's done it too."

Linda nods. "Amenadiel too. Charlie exists because he felt guilty for a while, made himself mortal. Obviously he's gotten better, but they all can do it."

"Seems like a really mean design. I thought the Big Guy-"

Chloe's expression sours. "Their dad thinks everything He does is brilliant and inspired. Lucifer's not wrong about that part; He's kind of insufferable."

Linda shrugs. "Amenadiel likes their Dad, and He was considerate of Charlie when He visited."

Chloe picks up her glass and drains it. "You don't have to be politic."

"Well, He can probably hear us," Linda says. "Also, I feel way out of my league examining dysfunctional parenting patterns for the being who made, you know, earth."

"But you admit they're there," Chloe counters.

"Of course, but He seems to at least try and-" Linda says.

"But God didn't make earth, just planned it, mostly," Ella says. She pulls her knees to her chest and, setting her chin on them, stares mostly to the fireplace even though at this time of year in California, it's empty. "Michael and Lucifer did."

It is at this point that both Linda and Chloe stop their almost argument (and she both missed the Big Guy stopping in and has a feeling it went like crap) and gape at her.

Linda recovers first, probably because she's had even more experience than a homicide detective in hearing insane things from people's mouths. "I'm confused. God didn't make earth?"

"Well, I mean, He's the architect. He designed everything, but Lucifer and Michael had to make it." She quirks her head at them both. "Did Lucifer never explain how it works? I figured you all got like, you know, a powerpoint or something." She rolls her eyes, thinking of Lucifer's attention span. "Or maybe like naughty hand puppets. I dunno. But they're the Demiurge, right?"

Both women keep blinking at her like she's started speaking in Spanish. No, scratch that. Chloe was married to Dan long enough, she probably speaks some Spanish anyway.

"The what?" Chloe asks.

Linda sighs and rubs her nose. "Lucifer picks and chooses the topics during therapy. Before you ask, he has never talked in great detail about getting kicked out. I mean, the general notes, but the blow by blow of the Rebellion or some of the conflict with his father, yeah, not in detail yet."

"Immortal time frames," Ella huffs, and the others nod.

It feels…nice.

That Linda and Chloe both get it. None of the three angels are forthcoming, probably because their Father was the world's crappiest communicator and clearly big on edicts. But also because if you have billions of years, clamming up for a few centuries or eons probably doesn't seem like a big deal.

Except none of them have that kind of time.

"Anyway," Ella says, moving on. "Michael says their dad came up with all the designs but that he and Lucifer used to share power, one of them isn't supposed to be more powerful than the other, but one Creates the raw matter to make, you know, the universe and the other got to Will it into all the shapes."

"So Lucifer can just create whatever he wants and doesn't?" Chloe asks.

"No, don't be silly. His dad didn't let him keep that part after the Fall, and He was the Will." She looks down at her hands, Michael is…was…" She's still not sure about Hell and if it's a past tense thing or not now. "…he Creates. So they took their dad's blue prints out and made all of it-oceans and trees and unicorns and the Grand Canyon. They had to spend a long time just making it together. Lucifer never told you guys?"

"Michael lies," Chloe says simply, her tone cold. "It's basically his defining characteristic."

Linda sets a hand again on Chloe's shoulder, probably to calm her too. "Your chinchilla. I mean obviously you weren't kidding and Michael made him, but I didn't think they did all of it."

"Well, like I said, it was all pre-planned…mostly."

"Mostly?" Chloe asks.

"Michael says Lucifer came up with a platypus on a dare cause they got bored by the time it was Australia's turn."

Chloe rolls her eyes and pours herself another glass. "Okay, that actually explains why everything there is poisonous."

"Does it explain why they all have pouches?" Linda muses before sobering. "But, no, I do not have the most forthcoming patient. Believe me, I'd have loved a heads up on 'I have an evil identical twin brother.'"

Ella flinches a little at that because it's not completely wrong, but it doesn't feel completely accurate either. Or she has a rip-roaring case of Stockholm Syndrome, which her friends are just going to be disappointed over when they realize the depths of it.

She's not sure yet.

Chloe narrows her eyes and sips almost with a vengeance. "Yes, Lucifer and I have had a lot of talks since Michael showed up about actually telling me things. See also, 'oh hey, you're a Miracle.'"

Ella nods. "I'd heard that…the Miracle thing. So, no cool powers?"

"Lucifer can't make me tell him what I desire," Chloe huffs, her words taking on a truly terrible attempt at a British accent around "desire." "As far as can I fly or light stuff on fire with my mind, no. Kind of disappointing."

"Yeah but if it were heritable, then maybe Trixie would be a firestarter too, and that would be rough," Ella says.

Again, both women blink at her.

"What?" Chloe squawks.

"Well, I mean, it's transitive? If you couldn't exist without some act of the Big Guy, then technically neither could Trixie, but you're both super-normal so that's…good?"

"Why do you sound disappointed?" Chloe asks.

"I dunno! Maybe you wanted laser hands or something," Ella says.

"I asked about that but…anyway, no. Miracle doesn't really give me a lot of powers. Mostly, I see through Lucifer's bullshit."

Ella snickers. "You need to be a Miracle for that?"

Linda pulls a little at the collar of her blouse. "You know, Lucifer can really be charming with the full court press. More wine?"

Ella looks at Linda, really looks at her and oh…

Oh!

"You didn't! Linda, no way!" she gasps, not that really in the terrible ideas in boning angels department Ella can throw stones. "You and Lucifer hooked up?"

"He offered to pay at first with sex, and his powers, and it didn't last more than a month. We've been professional ever since."

Ella gapes at both of them and then thinks about Eve and Maze, and oh wow.

"Just me. Holy freaking shit. I'm the only in the tribe who's never slept with Lucifer. That's kind of way too close, if you think about it."

Chloe sips some more. "I try very hard not to. Do not get Maze and Eve started. It gets awkward."

"Yeah, I'll say," Linda agrees.

"Though, technically, I guess, I mean you've…" Chloe stops and grows steadier. "I mean, from what I've been assuming, you and Michael did too so you've slept with someone who looks basically just like Lucifer."

"Which perhaps, again, is too much togetherness, but Celestial inner circle is also off the usual path so the rules are still, uh, being worked out," Linda says.

Ella groans and rakes a hand through her ponytail. "Wow, Lucifer is really, really bad at details. I figured Maze would have at least crowed about it by now or even Amenadiel."

Linda quirks her head toward her. "I don't understand."

Chloe sighs and sets her now empty hands on her knees. "Me either, to be honest. How did Michael con you into going half-way across the country with him? He looks like Lucifer but with the scar, he's obviously not. So, I don't understand."

Ella was definitely going to yell at a couple angels and a demon later about filling in the blanks. "Okay, so I guess we are doing this."

"I think it's been helpful to get on the same page, yes," Linda replies.

She wants to be bitter and snide and remind both women that they've been on the same page for a damn long time but decided very pointedly to leave her out of it, to make her a sitting duck. And not as much for Michael-though hey that really exploded, didn't it-but there she was also kissing up to freaking Cain of all people too. A warning would have been nice. But that won't help, and Linda's not wrong. Apparently even if he lied about the biggest, most important thing, Michael's told her a lot more about his family and being an angel and the Demiurge stuff than Lucifer has ever mentioned to either Chloe or Linda.

Weird.

"Michael left Los Angeles because his dad did punish him. He took Michael's wings, and I dunno…but he found out that he really needs his wings like a focus, a way to keep his powers steady. His Fear is super uncontrollable right now." She sighs and looks at her hands. Hard. "And then his Creation went haywire too. He made it a few weeks and as far as Las Vegas and the Creation stuff really ran wild over him. I think, unless it's self-actualization? Hard to tell unless the Big Guy descends from on high to take credit and explain each of His decisions in this."

"I think I'm lost," Chloe offers, her voice quiet and steady.

Ella sighs again and keeps studying her lap. She won't get through any of this if she has to make eye contact. "I think…well Michael thought too mostly that his dad made him a woman as part of the punishment. I dunno, but I mean, he was female when we met. I guess he still is? Was? I mean, he's still alive in Hell, right? Lucifer and Amenadiel didn't kill him, did they?"

And her voice shakes at that because she's not sure if anyone could kill Michael except for their dad, but Lucifer would come closest, and there was so little fight left in Michael at the hotel in New Orleans.

Ella worries he begged for it.

Linda squeezes her hand. "Michael's not dead, though he can't hurt you anymore, and he's not going anywhere any time soon. That's the good part."

"The best part," Chloe confirms. "But that fills in a huge hole for me. You didn't know he was Lucifer's brother."

"I knew he was Saint Michael. I mean…I saw him use his powers the first night we met. I knew he was twins with the Devil but Michael always called him 'Samael,' and, let's be real, I clung real hard to the idea that Lucifer was a crappy method actor for a long time."

"You sure did," Linda says, sipping her wine. "It's not your fault. Denial is a totally normal coping mechanism."

"Yeah, did wonders for me," Ella says.

"So Michael's?" Chloe repeats, fumbling a bit over the idea of it all.

Ella nods. "Yeah, female. And now that I know, I mean, if you saw him and Lucifer in a room together and someone told you they were twins, you'd get it. I mean the fraternal kind duh. But it wasn't something that struck me off the bat, no. I mean, why would I know Lucifer Morningstar was the devil? Uh, the real one."

"I'm sorry. We should have told you," Chloe says.

"Am I the last to know?" Ella asks, her voice barely a croak. "Was it funny for everyone else? Like this intense in-joke I wasn't part of?" Her heart breaks a little when she realizes the beyond obvious. "Even Trixie knows, right? And she's twelve."

"Maze showed Trixie her demon side for Halloween years ago. So, no, I didn't get a say in that," Chloe says.

"And it's dangerous, Ella. We thought you were safer not knowing," Linda says.

Chloe nods. "Dan only knows because Michael revealed it to him and tried to trick him into hurting Lucifer. Didn't work the way Michael wanted, but yeah, he earned all his punishments fairly. All he does is use people. I'm sorry he did it to you too."

Ella swallows hard, and her throat is so dry. "It's complicated."

Chloe and Linda exchange a look that makes her feel small and stupid, as if she's Trixie's age, and an idiot pre-teen to look after and not a full-fledged friend.

"I'm sure it is. Trauma is inherently complex-" Linda says.

"No, well, yeah, but it wasn't all bad and…never mind…you can't understand because I don't. Maybe I never will, but you didn't help me any by lying to me for years either," Ella says, curling up smaller.

"Because it really is dangerous. Pierce who is-" Chloe starts.

"Yeah, the world's First Murderer, got that memo," Ella replies to Chloe.

She blinks and recovers again, her blue eyes wide. "Right, anyway, he tried to kill me because of my connection to Lucifer."

Linda nods. "And their mother tried to flash fry me after torturing me for information. I'm only alive because Amenadiel slowed time like a miracle then. Oh, and a horde of demons from Hell almost kidnapped Charlie when he was barely a few days old."

"The Mayan case were literal demons? But Maze is so nice!" Ella blurts.

"Maze is…mostly nice, although I wish she'd give Trixie less knives as presents," Chloe says. "Some of her brothers and sisters are real monsters."

"Oh."

Linda nods and squeezes Ella's hand harder. "We didn't want demons and ancient cursed humans and-"

"Really crazy goddesses," Chloe adds.

"Right," Linda agrees. "We didn't want that coming after you too, Ella, so we thought if we hid it all, you'd be safer."

"And we were wrong," Chloe says, hugging her then. "We were so wrong because you didn't know enough to know that Michael was setting you up, and I'm so sorry for that."

She lets both women hold her tightly then. For once, Ella doesn't cry, but she does shake a little because so much of it wasn't bad at all. So much of it was easy, and she…maybe she didn't fall in love. Ella's never really had a good relationship to compare stuff with anyway, but she was happy, mostly, and she thought things made sense for the first time in a real long time.

She pulls away and rubs at her eyes. "He lied to me, but he wasn't…he wasn't mean to me." And she's not even sure what that means. "But he hid so much and…he's not all bad. I know it."

Chloe's eyes narrow. "Doubt it."

Linda coughs politely. "But we were bad friends to decide for you if you could handle this and for not giving you input. From now on, we won't be. I'm truly sorry about what happened, Ella."

She nods and tries to smile, not sure if it comes off convincingly or not. It probably doesn't. "Thanks. We'll…we'll get there, be friends again, I'm sure."

She's not though because friends wouldn't have lied that hard, and how can you really be friends with people who won't tell you anything at all?

Then again, how can you be lovers with someone who won't even tell you who they are?

Ella Lopez, reina of terrible life choices.

"Exactly," Linda says, as if trying to keep momentum going when there really isn't any. "but I have to admit, I'm a little curious then. What exactly does Michael look like?"

Ella laughs a little at that. Because as painful as all this is, thinking about him and his tendency to complain about, well, everything and his sartorial guiding light based around whatever was cheapest and most comfortable…it paints a funny picture. Truly.

"You're gonna think it's dumb," she says.

"I've found a lot of things about Lucifer's family kind of are, even if they're angels. It's surprising," Chloe admits.

Linda nods. "No, I'm serious, inquiring minds want to know, Ella."

She straightens her ponytail and sets her hands back in her sweatshirt pocket. "Kind of like Wonder Woman."

"That old TV show from the seventies?" Linda asks.

"No, more like the movie, and that sounds dumb but I mean he kind of does and nevermind."

Chloe considers that. "Yeah, Trixie was so into the first one when she was younger, seen it a billion times after she'd worn out Frozen. Like that, huh?"

"Well, I mean tall and dark haired and huge Bambi eyes and basically, yeah," Ella admits, trying not to think too deeply on it, on how beautiful he looked owning all the riverboat big wig gamblers in that dress. And damn, she knew it had been the best purchase of her life the minute she'd seen him model it in the store. "So, no, without Michael connecting the dots, of course I didn't look at him that way and think Lucifer. Who could?"

Chloe nods. "And he used that to press the advantage. It's what he does, and I'm sorry he used you, but again, you never have to deal with him again."

"True, but I have to admit, I'm picturing the whole thing in my head. Almost intriguing enough to go over to Lux and take a gander at him and Lucifer, side by side," Linda says.

Chloe's head snaps to her. "Linda, don't."

"What? I'm just saying it must be fascinating and oh."

Ella is up immediately, pacing. She starts by spitting out a litany of angry Klingon before settling into a Spanish tirade and, yeah, Chloe knows quite a bit of Spanish because she turns red as Ella swears even more. "He's where?"

Chloe glares one more time at Linda before looking at her. "Ella, of all last-minute reprieves, his father sent Gabriel—yeah that one—down to deliver an order. Michael has to stay in Lux until further notice. Trust me, Lucifer would have kicked him to Hell the night you came back if he could have."

Linda nods. "Exactly. Here or in Hell, either way, Michael's under lock and key, and it's best that way."

"You didn't think it would be okay to tell me?" She asks, not even sure if it's good for her to know this or not.

"Ella, when kidnapping victims experience that much trauma-bonding—" Linda starts.

She throws her hands in the air in frustration. "I know what Stockholm Syndrome is. I work…worked for the police. This isn't that. I…you guys are never gonna ever really level with me, are you?"

Chloe shakes her head. "You shouldn't be anywhere near him. He has the floor below Lucifer's, and Maze or Amenadiel is on guard duty at all times; sometimes, Lucifer personally handles the watch. Prison's prison, and you shouldn't visit."

"Isn't it up to me to decide? I mean, maybe you want to treat me like Trixie forever, except, oh hey! She was in on all this way longer than me. What was she seven, and she knew?"

"Eight," Chloe clarifies.

"And I'm actually a couple weeks older than you, Decker. You all just keep lying to me, and I get you want to protect me, but it never works out that way. If you can't trust me to make my own decisions…if you can't really trust me at all…then there is no tribe."

She hurries to the door, already with her phone out and cuing up a rideshare app.

Chloe is up and stalking after her. "Ella, don't go to Lux. Just leave it."

She turns to both of them. "If he's just under lock and key, and Maze is already there-"

"Lucifer has the assignment tonight," Chloe admits.

"Yeah, well, then Michael can't possibly do anything."

"I think we all know by now that Michael's real power is in what he sees and in how he twists your fears," Linda replies. "He doesn't have to lay a finger on you to do damage."

Ella nods and, for a moment, she desperately wants to know what fears Michael has unearthed in both Chloe and Linda. She's got a feeling in Linda's case that it's probably something not even Amenadiel knows, but she's not quite sure.

"He has never been like that with me. I…I spent the month thinking he was in Hell getting his eyeballs popped out or being burned over and over again, or I don't know what! And he's been here the whole time?" She shakes her head. "You should have told me."

"But now that you know, you're going to make a bee line for him, Ella, and you know that's not safe," Chloe says.

"And you're not my mom, Decker. Got one of those who's overbearing enough, gracias. And I just…it was my choice to make. They all were, and you took them from me this whole time."

She hurries out of Chloe's apartment after that; Ella has a ride to catch

She's not sure what she expects.

Her courage fails her-or her stupidity, hard to tell-as she gets to the club. She makes it as far as an isolated spot at the bar and then can't bear to go up the elevator to the penthouse to demand Lucifer take her to Michael. Ella's not sure she has anything left to say, but she's not sure she wants to leave either. At least Michael's here, somewhere, and not already tossed into eternal torment, and she shouldn't care, but she does. And it burns. Because hate should be simple, right?

But the last thing she does is hate Michael, and it's so fucked up.

Ella stays for a few hours, drinking and eventually dancing on the floor. It's getting close to closing time, and she picks out a mark. It's as easy as she remembers. Not that rapey L.A. douchebags are exactly camouflaged either. It takes a bit of batting her eyes and exaggerating her laugh, plus stumbling a couple times while dancing to really sell the idea she's compromised.

Easy peasy.

She doesn't have her brass knuckles, more's the pity, but as he leads her out to the alley, Ella doesn't waste much time either. She's small-Scrappy like Michael dubbed her long ago-but she's also speedy. The asshole doesn't expect the quick, brutal knee to his dick or then the upper jab to his nose crunching it nicely. She reaches back to strike him in the chest, to get him to fall, but he recovers enough and back hands her hard.

Ella's vision swims, and she goes to her knees.

Fuck.

Maybe she's had more to drink between the wine at Chloe's and the three-okay five-tequila shots at Lux.

The guy pulls his leg back and kicks her hard in the stomach, and nothing crunches, but she's lost the wind out of her and her abdominal muscles spasm in pain.

"You bitch!" he screams, and she's trying to get to her feet, regretting picking a fight like this.

And then…

There is a blur of motion, and the guy's flown clear across the alley and lands with a sickening thud against the brick. Ella pushes the hair out of her face, and looking up, she expects to find Lucifer has come to her rescue.

She's shocked to see the other twin.

Michael's in profile to her, only really his right side visible. His eyes are bright and gold and shining with all the power of the avenging angel he once was. She's not really sure what he is now, and she's pretty sure he's even less clear on that.

He doesn't say anything but advances fast on the douchebag. The man is on his side, wheezing and so far failing to get to his feet. Michael gives him a kick to his ribs for good measure, and Ella hears the crack of bone echo through the alley.

Michael yanks him up by his throat and holds him high above his own head. "Tell me!"

It's all he has to say, and the rest he pulls out without anything more explicit needed.

The man whimpers, sniveling and begging, and going on about the dark. Michael nods and whispers in his ear and drops him. As she watches, the man stumbles badly to his feet and runs, making it out of the alley but only after hitting several walls in the process. Ella's not sure she cares exactly what Michael's wrought.

Michael is back then, his hands on her shoulders and helping her up. With all the exertion, his hair is a rat's nest now in front of his face, and if not for his eyes, still gold in their fury, she wouldn't see much of him.

"Lopez, are you kidding me?"

"You're not supposed to leave Lux!" she counters, getting to her feet and brushing mud and…yeah she hopes mud…off her jeans. "And what did you do to him?"

"First, you're welcome. Second, hysterical blindness for a few days, and finally, this is the property line. The alley is under Sam's lease." He sighs. "I get let out once every two weeks. Sam didn't want to, obvious reasons, but the pain gets…unbearable, and Gabriel said keep me in one piece. I'm sorry…it was hunting night." Michael snorts a little to himself, rakes a hand through his hair, and looks toward where the man scurried off. "Not just for me apparently."

"Yeah, well, crappy day, and I missed…"

Hurting people. Crunching bone…feeling anything but weak.

"What you can do," he finishes, and there is awe in his voice, and Michael has no right to sound so besotted by her even now, damn him.

She's about to remind him that he can drop the lovey dovey act when he turns to her, and the words die in her throat. "Michael, you know-"

There is a second scar down his left cheek now. This one is vertical, bisecting roughly part of his lower eyelid, and cut deep through down past his chin. The left side hasn't healed very much yet, is still raw and red and weeping, but all that considered, this scar runs deeper too, and the muscles of that cheek haven't healed quite right. Yet.

She reaches up for it instantly, and Michael hops back easily to avoid her. "What happened?"

"Sam did the least of what he could have. Honestly, I deserve far worse, but Dad has His rules, and for now, Sam can't touch me and I can't hurt him either. We just have to wait."

"For what?"

"No clue. Dad's mysterious ways. Hoping to catch an audience before Charlie goes to college. Who knows?" Michael says, shrugging, and there's a fluidity to his movements that is rarely there.

Makes sense.

She has no idea where the first asshole he must have already Feared before her douchebag is, but clearly Michael's well fed and in minimal pain. That shouldn't make her so relieved, but it does.

"He can't just leave you hanging for decades, right? That's awful!"

Michael frowns at her but the expression pulls harshly over his newest scar, and she hopes it doesn't ache. "Decades don't mean much for immortals, Scraps…sorry, Ella. They didn't for me."

"Oh."

He nods and surprises her by stepping close enough to stroke her hair. "Or they didn't. It's hard to explain, but billions of years can go by in a blink. For what it's worth, the last few months with you feel like forever but in a good way."

"Michael-"

He sighs and steps back again. "I know you won't believe me, and I can understand why. But I didn't plan for this to happen, at least not this way. I meant everything I said in New Orleans. I mean it now, but I get that I fucked it up." He laughs again, and it's so bitter and wounded that it breaks her heart. "I'm very talented at that. But I do love you, and I just want you to be happy."

He turns and walks back to the fire exit leading into the club.

She trots after him. "You know, it's still unfair you get to be hella tall like this!"

"Well, if you want to extrapolate, I guess that means you'd probably be a short man anyway, like Espinoza."

"He's not that short!"

"You're not that tall," Michael chirps back. He opens the door and holds it wide for her, which, honestly is about as chivalrous as he gets. "I don't have a right to ask anything from you."

"No," she says, passing under his arm but stopping to look up at him, to memorize his face for the last time, wincing internally at the extra damage Lucifer has done to him. "you really don't."

"But," he continues. "I'd feel like shit if I didn't ask. Ella, I did you wrong. I always should have brought you back here, after that first night in Reno. I let you do everything else but deal with Pete and what he did to you, and then I made it so much worse. You can't literally beat your problems away." Michael sighs and rakes a hand through his curls futilely. "Trust me, definitely tried that. A lot."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not your guardian angel anymore, no matter how shitty I was at that job."

"I don't think you were shitty at it."

"Right, but…you have to talk to someone. Doesn't have to be Linda. Doesn't have to be someone in this city if you don't want. Maybe go all the way back to your family, even if they seem pretty awful too, like maybe they took part of mine's playbook. But see someone." He leans down then and kisses her cheek chastely.

For some reason, she lets him. And the next person in her life who says Stockholm Syndrome or even implies it will get her brass knuckles.

"Why do you even care?" she asks as he stands tall again.

"Because the world is a far better place with you in it, and this vengeance kick will get you killed. And of all the humans Father ever made, Ella, you're the best one."

"Not at all."

His eyes flash gold with his irritation. "I know it's true. I've seen it. So, please, talk to anyone you have to. Ella…you're better than this. You always were."

"And you?"

He sighs again. "I'm whatever my Father's remade me to be, and I'm sure I'll get His judgment soon enough. Monster, remember? Pretty sure I'm shit."

She hugs him then and buries her nose in his hair, memorizing the scent of him too. Terrified she won't see him again, not because she'd refuse to visit but more because Michael even more than his brothers won't let her see him after this.

"You're not."

"Oh, I'm done on denial and self-delusion, so I can admit I'm a monster. Always pretty much knew that, but I kept you alive." He hugs her so tightly she almost can't breathe. "It's the one good thing I've done in centuries. Don't…don't throw that away. Promise me."

"Michael…"

"What's it you say when you mean shit?" He asks, his eyes so wide and earnest. "The 'ta la juro' thing?"

"Te lo juro," she says, groaning at his lack of accent.

"Right, promise me. You'll get better. Two assholes like me and Pete? We shouldn't get to ruin some of Dad's best work."

Ella's sure she's anything but that, but Michael's so sincere about it, so sure. And if it gives him peace as he waits in his cell, then it's the least she can do. Besides, he's not completely wrong. She came damn close tonight to…to bad things, and it has to stop.

It just has to.

"Te lo juro. I swear it, Michael. I won't do this again. I'll find someone to talk to."

He nods and turns back to Lux. "Thank you, Scrappy…sorry, Ella. It's more peace of mind than I deserve."

"You don't have to go."

He doesn't slow his stride as he enters the dark recesses of the back of Lux. "I really do, but I meant it, Lopez. You have no reason to ever believe me, but I love you, and I would give anything to make you happy. I would."

She trots after him in the dark, his long strides out pacing hers by a ratio of 3-to-1. He brushes quickly past a gathered crowd of college kids and by the time she snakes around them too, Michael's just gone.

A few days later, as she's pouring through so many resources and attempting to find a therapist who isn't her friend for help-you know, also one who won't throw her in the looney bin for seeing angels-she gets a letter in the mail.

There is no return address or stamps, but the handwriting, more like chicken scratch, she knows immediately. The front only reads Lopez, and Amenadiel must have brought it to her on Michael's request.

She opens up the letter, unfolding it carefully.

It's brief:

Scrappy,

This doesn't fix anything, but I meant it when I said I wanted you to be happy. I figure a full nest egg can't hurt. I wouldn't have won all this anyway without you keeping me as stable as you could.

You were always too good for me.

Love always,

Michael

As she reaches back into the envelope, she finds a cashier's check for all of Michael's winnings since he left L.A., not just since Reno, addressed to her. Ella stares at it for a long time, not sure what to do with all of it but keenly aware there's no way to return it either.

Sighing, she gets up, goes to her room, and slides the check onto her desk. She'll deposit it in her own account tomorrow. She has a feeling Amenadiel won't exactly be off the hook till he sees that part done too. Yanking open a drawer, she slips on the stupid, way-too-big Road Kill Café t-shirt and then takes Pepe out of his cage.

Ella curls up under the covers and turns on the TV to something noisy and mindless. Pepe barks at her excitedly as she strokes his ears—all three.

"You know, Pepe. I met the Archangel Michael once. And from him, I got one neon chinchilla, a novelty t-shirt he didn't want, and a couple mil."

Pepe nuzzles her a little and then winds his tail around her left wrist as he tends to do.

"And, as fucked up as I am-as all of it is-I think I met the love of my life."