Maze was a blur of leather as she walked in and sat across from him at the coffee table. Her chocolate eyes raked over his figure as she assessed him and then she looked at him expectantly.
"Mazikeen..." He cleared his throat and pulled his knee closer to his body, crossing his legs tighter. "I am sorry."
The demon stared at him in a calculating way with her head cocked to one side. She stood and walked to the bar, grabbed a glass, and returned to the coffee table. Lucifer, having reached over and picked up the glass bottle of whiskey, poured the amber liquid into her glass. He set the bottle down and then leaned back into the corner of the couch once more. His left arm stretched across the back of the couch, his right elbow propped on the arm of the couch, and he tangled his right hand fingers into his hair and leaned his head onto his palm.
"I came looking for you. You were here, but you disillusioned yourself. You knew I could tell you were here, but you wouldn't show yourself. Why?" She said through her teeth.
He looked down at his lap and pulled at his hair a bit. "I wanted to be left alone."
She stared at him blankly. "And now you don't want to be left alone?"
He shook his head slowly. "No. Now, I want to go home."
His statement hung between them in the air heavily. He moved his eyes to hers while she studied him. She looked to be in between stats of fury, disbelief, and hurt.
"You want to go home?" She said with sarcastic bite.
"Yes," Lucifer said softly.
"Now?"
"Yes, but it is not that simple. Not anymore." His dark eyes moved over her shoulder and settled on the wall.
"Why not?"
He stood, barefoot, without a belt and his suit pants hung low across his hips. Lucifer took a few ginger backward steps away from the couch. He outstretched his hands and then turned his back to her. There were streaks of blood soaked through his shirt, two crescent shaped red marks adjacent to his shoulder blades that dripped down his back. Maze's eyes widened as he turned back to her. He grimaced hard and brought out one wing, and then groaned and brought out the other.
She stared at him. His wings were battered, bloody, and broken in places. They were dripping blood still in areas, some feathers were dying, and some fell to the floor. "Lucifer..." She whispered as she stood and walked over to him to inspect the damage more closely.
"Something is wrong, Maze," He admitted. "I am not healing as I should. It's very slow. In some places, I'm not healing at all."
"Ella..." Maze whispered as she touched a damaged and bloody feather.
"What does Miss Lopez have to do with any of this?"
"She gave me a tape from that night, said that when the time came, I'd watch it and know what to do with it."
"I don't care about a bloody tape. I want to go home, Mazikeen," He said in a low voice.
She looked from his wings to his face. "I can't go with you."
"What?" His eyes were wide with surprise.
"I have only just reconciled with Linda," She said and her eyes shifted quickly back to his bloodied wings.
"Maze... I should have put you first so many times, and I didn't," He sighed. "I took you for granted because I knew you had to be there for me. No matter how angry or upset or hurt you were. No matter how far away you went. I shouldn't have done that. You deserved far better, and for that, I sincerely apologize." The hurt and empathy was evident on his face. Before they had come to LA, Maze never imagined such sensitivity to be present on the Devil's face. She would have thought it impossible, but their time on Earth, with humans, had changed them both.
"I can't, Lucifer," She breathed. "But I can help you."
His jaw began to twitch. "I don't need help! I need to go home! I need you to go home with me!"
"You're hurting," She said obviously.
"Of course I am hurting! I've been bleeding for two weeks!" He growled.
"Not just here," She said and gestured to his wings. Her hand pointed to his chest. "Here, too."
He stepped away from her instantly and bristled, but she stepped with him, closing the distance again. "Let me clean these up," She said.
He stood, drinking whiskey, while she pulled dead and hopeless feathers from his wings, wiping and cleaning wounds with a soft cloth while he didn't do much as flinch. He was still bleeding in some places, which baffled them both. Lucifer was the Devil. He was immortal. He should not still be wounded. It had been two weeks, and Chloe had not come near him.
"I'm going home, Maze. As soon as I can fly again. I have nearly everything wrapped up here," He said. "Come with me."
She looked at him and shook her head. "I can't..."
"I am your master," He said in a dangerous voice. "I could make you."
"I know that," She growled back. "But you won't. Do you know why you won't, Lucifer?" He scowled darkly. "Because, in the same way that I want you to choose me, you want me to choose you." He pulled his wings in violently and towered over her, but she wasn't scared of him, and she didn't submit to him. "You'll stay with me, and I will stay with you. Here."
"There is nothing for me here," He seethed. "Nothing." The red blaze filled his irises again.
"There's my Devil," She smirked and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" He ground out.
"To help," She shrugged as the elevator doors closed in front of her.
Lucifer growled, a low and terrifying growl, and then turned and threw his glass with all of his supernatural might into the stone wall. It shattered into smithereens and they fell all over his floor. His chest heaved as he breathed angrily and unevenly. There is nothing left on Earth for him; he'd learnt his lesson. Humanity is synonymous with emotional suffering - a piece of his own Hell he'd love to get away from. Guilt was more fun anyway. The real Hell was much better.
He turned his chin to the ceiling. "You win, Dad. You win. Are you bloody happy now?"
"Do you feel cold and lost in desperation? You build up hope, but failure's all you've known. Remember all the sadness and frustration, and let it go. Let it go"