Prompt: After Chloe has seen his Devil face, Lucifer spirals. While he is back to work as Dan's partner, cause they made up somewhat... Lucifer is NOT okay. Both Ella and Dan are worried for him beyond belief. And after a particularly bad breakdown during work, Ella and Dan direct a half-serious prayer towards the only angel Lucifer ever spoke of fondly (no matter how short-lived the fondness had been, soon replaced by bitterness) — Archangel Michael. (Half serious, given they don't believe he is the Actual Devil.)
Michael answers, determined to truly mend fences with his twin, while preventing the Devil giving up his will to exist over a single treacherous mortal.
Also, maybe Lucifer's bad emotional/mental state affects the Twins Demiurge power, so Michael has to stay within a certain range of the Lightbringer to prevent the power from imploding and taking Creation with it.
Angel Twins Fluff welcome, but not necessary
Bonus points if Dan and Ella find out the Twins are Celestials.
Ella Lopez was what her Tia Xiomara dubbed a terminal optimist. She had to be considering the life she had led on account of her… eclectic friend circle, not that that was anyone's fault in particular (*cough Rae Rae cough*). She had managed to keep herself jovial in even the most depressing of situations. She kept her mood up through family drama, idiot brothers, ghost friends with serious boundary issues and crimes that left a pit of disgust in her stomach. She knew how to distract herself, knew how to rationalize and justify and spin things to be, if not alright, then sensible. Still, even she had her limits and there wasn't much positive she could ascribe to the current Deckerstar situation.
Ella wasn't a nosy person… who was she kidding? Despite that, she tried to keep a respectful distance from whatever happened between Lucifer and Chloe. At first, she had figured it had to do with Pierce, which made sense. It's not every day you find out your fiancé is a crime boss who killed your ex-husband's girlfriend and tried to kill your partner/total crush. Especially when said partner had been ringing the alarm for the longest time. Everyone at the station was reeling from being so successfully duped by Pierce, but there was obviously more to the story when it came to Ella's favorite almost-couple. Lucifer wasn't acting like himself, which she supposed she could put down to his near-death experience, but unfortunately this wasn't his first time being in such a situation and probably wouldn't be his last. His usual response to his life being in danger was a flippant attitude that made Ella want to smack him upside the head and wrap him in the tightest hug because clearly he didn't value his own life nearly as much as he should and that broke her heart. Either way, Ella was certain his latest personality shift was down to his relationship with his partner.
Chloe running off to Rome with Trixie didn't make the CSI any less suspicious. Then she was back, and Ella had hope that things would get better. She hated seeing Lucifer so depressed and upset, so unsure of himself and trying to hide it behind booze and sex. She hoped that he and Chloe would talk, clear the air, and Deckerstar could finally sail off into the sunset. On the contrary, whatever had transpired between Chloe and Lucifer upon her return had caused Deckerstar to sink faster than the Titanic and Lucifer to spiral even harder than when Chloe was in Rome.
Ella did not want to take sides, she loved them both and it would just make her feel icky. However, she could privately admit to herself that she did feel better now that Chloe had transferred precincts. Lucifer had been avoiding the station since she'd been back and Ella missed having him around. Sure, she could visit him at Lux, but it wasn't quite the same. He had to be club owner and all around sex symbol Lucifer there, not her brother-from-another-mother Lucifer who got enthusiastic about weird and slightly creepy things as much as she did.
Nowadays, whenever Ella went to Lux all she really did was try to curb some of Lucifer's more self-destructive tendencies, which were at the worst she'd ever seen. She was pretty certain he had a veritable pharmacy of every drug known to man inside the club, alcohol shipments to Lux were at an all time high thanks to him alone and his apartment was more of a revolving door of sexual partners than ever. She had never judged his carnal appetite before and she wasn't going to start now, except it seemed like he didn't even have standards anymore. Usually, his partners were people who impressed him in some way, people who he could respect, people who he had some common interest with, people who were good at the end of the day. She couldn't say that about his latest batch of lovers. It wasn't just that they weren't good people, some of them were outright dangerous and with all the risks Lucifer was taking, not just with his body but with his life, Ella was doubting that he gave a damn about himself at all. He had even stopped his sessions with Linda, which was the biggest red flag for Ella. Her experiences in the mental health system taught her well enough just what lay at the end of the road Lucifer was on. She had watched friends and family slowly kill themselves the way he was doing now. Whenever she brought up her concerns, he would just wave it off, ramble about angel durability and press on.
It seemed like he was trying to drown himself in so much debauchery he didn't have time to think about anything else, let alone Chloe. Ella could only stand to watch it happen for so long before she couldn't take it anymore and had to leave him to his own devices. She hoped having Lucifer back at the station could be a better outlet.
Dan was also glad to have Lucifer back, though he'd never admit it. He was still pissy at him due to the whole Charlotte thing, but Ella had already pulled him aside by the ear and given him a stern talking to along with forcing him to go to therapy already. What was it with idiot men and turning every feeling they had into anger? Ridiculous.
As much as Ella would like to say the distance between Chloe and Lucifer made him a bit better, it somehow made him worse. Now he wasn't just drowning himself in sex, booze and every other vice he could think of, there were moments when he was shut down completely or defensively aggressive. It was a little scary to see that blank look in his eye. It was as if he was so deep in his own mind that not even an earthquake could snap him out of it, literally. Seismic tremors had been more and more active lately. It was par for the course living in California but it was strange that Lucifer's dissociative episodes happened to coincide with the tremors. His new disassociation issues were not the only emotional shift. He had been treating people to venomous diatribes whenever they caught his bad side. The person on the receiving end usually deserved it, but this was a different kind of anger than she'd ever seen in him. It wasn't the righteous indignation or the cold fury she had glimpsed before, there was something decidedly… manic about it now.
She tried to ignore or temper it as best she could. It wasn't very easy by any stretch. It used to be that the second Lucifer entered a room, his general aura caused a significant boost in the mood but lately it was like the temperature sharply rose, the air clogged with despair and hopelessness, the atmosphere became oppressive and heavy and it was like every bit of guilt she ever felt in her life came rushing to the surface, suffocating her and pulling her downdowndown. It had quickly become an unspoken rule in the precinct to leave Lucifer to himself. He was still a good consultant and had connections the precinct could not afford to lose even if his mojo seemed hit or miss lately. There were grumblings and gossip about what had transpired between Lucifer and his former partner to send Decker running away first to Rome and then another precinct. No one had the balls to ask him to his face and usually when he was in a mood (which was always) it had become precinct policy to throw Ella at him. She totally didn't mind being his emotional support CSI, that is as long as everyone stuck with the program.
On the day of The Incident, that was not what happened. The worst part was it seemed like Lucifer had been having one of his rare good days. Dan had had Trixie that weekend and the kid had managed to glue herself to Lucifer for as long as she was able. It was adorable watching her recount her Rome adventures and update him on her fight training and even show him some moves. He had been genuinely smiling and poking fun with her. The four of them had even gone out to see a movie Trixie was dying to see and had gotten ice cream to eat together at the park. They had dinner at Linda and Amenadiel's on Sunday and Lucifer had spent most of it playing with Charlie even though he swore that babies might as well have been spawned from the darkest corners of Hell. It was a lovely time. That weekend, Lucifer's sets at Lux had been more captivating and beautiful than they had been in a long time. He was always a tour de force when he was sitting at his piano, but lately every song had a melancholic edge to it, even the bouncier ones meant to make people dance. Seeing the children had had a positive effect on him. No one mentioned Chloe once and Ella didn't catch him with that forlorn far away look that meant he was thinking of her or the dark shadow that crept over him when he was clearly thinking the worst of himself. It was a perfect taste of what could be again.
He breezed into the precinct the day of The Incident with a pep in his step and a carrier with coffee cups as Ella sat by Dan's desk. The usual cloud of negativity that washed over the room with his arrival was blessedly absent, replaced by a wave of light instead. She had missed that feeling.
"Ms. Lopez, Douche. I thought you might want some caffeine this morning. I know your species seem to run on it as much as a car does on gasoline."
"Is that from Keke's?"
"You mean that shop with the ludicrously priced but damn near celestial selection? Why, yes, I believe it is."
"Have I told you lately that I adore you," Ella beamed.
Lucifer paused for a moment before replying.
"Not that I can think of, but it certainly doesn't hurt to hear."
Ella hopped up and pulled him into a hug before taking her coffee as if it was made of gold. Dan accepted his with a simple grumbled thanks, barely looking up from his computer screen. She wasn't even sure he knew Lucifer was there at all. It was a perfect start to the morning. Ella had a whole day mapped out in her head. She could work with this Lucifer. She hoped this Lucifer stuck around the whole day. Again, she had no issue being his go-to gal, but she was glad to see he might be alright today.
And then Carver opened his mouth and ruined it all.
"Hey Morningstar, you're looking good today," he complimented as he cruised past Dan's desk.
"That implies I don't look good everyday and that's simply impossible. I'm incapable of looking less than impeccable."
Carver chuckled in response.
"Sure, man. I just meant it's good to see you finally over Decker."
Ella felt herself freeze and the whole room seemed to freeze along with her as Carver broke the unspoken rule of never bringing up Chloe around Lucifer. It was even enough to get Dan's attention.
"Carver," he started but the idiot blundered on, not realizing what he had done.
"I know she was your partner and you very not subtly wanted into her pants, but it's probably about time you move on."
"Carver, dude, seriously—"
"Calm down Espinoza, I didn't mean the pants things in a creepy way, just an observation about the obvious romantic undertones between Morningstar and Decker before Sinnerman. The whole situation with Marcus was a bad deal, but no use moping about it anymore, right? Time to move on, Lucifer. The department's been down in the dumps right along with you. It's probably better she's gone anyway."
"Carver, shut up," Dan finally snapped and it pulled Ella from her stupor to reluctantly look at Lucifer's face. The look in his eye sent a shiver down her spine. It was empty and soulless. A manic grin spread across his lips and Ella knew no amount of soothing she could do was going to stop this volcano from erupting.
What had followed was a ten-minute tirade that had made Ella seriously consider his whole Devil act might be reality. He had left a few officers in tears, others cowering in their seats and Carver running out of the room in complete terror. Ella had no clue how the Lieutenant had summoned the gall to order Lucifer to take the rest of the day off. Ella had watched him walk out of the room in a daze, knowing full well that he was going to do everything in his power today to hurt himself. Sure enough, when she and Dan got to Lux, she could do little besides watch him drink and drug and probably fuck himself into oblivion. And she would've stayed and watched, sticking close by to offer moral support as if it meant anything because she knew he noticed and he needed it, needed her. She wanted to be there for him even if it broke her heart to see him like this. As soon as Dan noticed her teary eyes though, he made her leave with him.
"But—"
"No. I don't want to watch both of my friends punishing themselves for something that's not their fault. I can't stop him, but I can stop you."
Ella sighed but walked huddled under Dan's arm, needing some friendly support herself.
"I just wish there was a way I could fix this. I hate seeing him like this."
"I do too," Dan offered, his voice begrudging.
The two walked in silence for a while, both trying to gather their bearings and consider what they could do about the situation.
Ella paused as she passed a church with an open door. It had been a while for her. She and the Big Guy weren't really on speaking terms lately, not after what happened with Charlotte, but if there was ever a time that she needed a chat, it was now.
Dan snorted beside her.
"The last thing Lucifer would want is you asking his "Dad" to guide him or protect him or have just about anything to do with him. He doesn't exactly speak fondly of God or any of his angels."
Ella nodded in agreement before pausing.
"Well, that's not totally true. He's seemed partial to Michael."
"Pretty sure he described him as a 'weaselly coward' and a 'sneaky bastard' who'll stab you in the back and then abandon you in Hell just to please their father. That didn't sound positive."
"I think he was talking about his brother Michael, not Saint Michael. Or he was conflating the two of them."
"He actually has a brother named Michael? And you still think its method acting? It's totally a cult."
"Either way, if the only angel Lucifer's comfortable with in the slightest is Saint Michael, then I'll pray to him. I don't care which angel it is, I just… I need to do something."
Dan sighed before nodding.
"Okay, yeah. Let's go inside."
Ella paused before walking into the open door arm-in-arm with Dan. A part of her felt the Big Guy was going to smite her the second she walked in. She'd done some serious blaspheming the last year since Charlotte's death. Nothing of the sort happened and she slipped into a pew near the back beside Dan, not bothering to do her usual sacraments and ablutions. She wasn't here for the Big Guy, she didn't want him thinking she forgave him just yet.
She clasped her hands together and thought of reciting Saint Michael's prayer before thinking better of it. She didn't want to invoke the Prince of Host's wrath on her friend who fashioned himself as the Devil, she wanted guidance and help for him, not rancor and judgement.
"Holy Saint Michael, Prince of the Heavenly Hosts, Defender and Protector… umm, hi? We haven't really ever spoken before. I'm Ella Lopez. I speak to your dad a lot, he might've mentioned me. Or not. I don't know how communication works between you guys up there. I know I'm supposed to say your prayer but, I don't need you to protect me from any wickedness or snare of the Devil or cast him into Hell, I kind of need your help for him. Well, for my Lucifer Morningstar, not yours. Maybe you've heard of him, down here with your brother's name. I hope you're not offended, he doesn't mean any harm. I think your brother gets a bad rap and I'm sure it wasn't as easy for you to cast him out as those stained-glass windows make it seem. I'll bet there were times in your life when you looked at your brother and all you wanted to do was help him. I understand that. I've spent my whole life trying to look out for my knucklehead brothers. And they've fallen too, and I mean they've fallen hard, but I've always been there to pick up the pieces and I guess I took for granted that I always would be able to. Look, Lucifer's a really good guy. He's like a brother to me and the fact that I can't fix what's wrong with him is eating me up inside. You probably know that better than most, at least I hope so. If you had a chance to help your brother, wouldn't you take it? What I'm trying to say is would you please just look out for my Lucifer? Protect him in any way you can. Heck, if you wanna pop down here to help a brother out, I wouldn't hate that either. I mean, as long as it doesn't cause an apocalypse or anything but that's besides the point. Just… be there for him, please. Amen."
She glanced over at Dan who looked put on the spot before rolling his eyes and clasping his hands together.
"What she said, amen."
Ella let out a choked chuckle before leaning her head on Dan's shoulder and trying to allow the usual peace she felt when she stepped into any church to wash over her. Maybe this prayer wouldn't amount to anything but she chose to have hope that it would mean something good for her friend.
In the Silver City, Michael clenched his fist as Ella Lopez's prayer ended. It had been a long time since he had paid attention to any prayers directed at him. He had so much more responsibility nowadays than he did when he was prayed to much more often and in greater variation. Now, it was usually the same rote script, begging him to protect warriors and damn his brother to Hell, as if he hadn't already done that and regretted it every second since. He was not expecting anything new or different from this latest prayer, but its unorthodox nature had captured his attention as well as the fact that he recognized it as belonging to one of the humans his twin brother favored.
He sat back heavily, ignoring the pain that flared in his shoulder from the movement as he mulled her words over. There was a startling sympathetic quality to her voice as it spoke about the pain Michael probably felt casting Lucifer out, being unable to help him. None of his own siblings save for Gabriel had ever given it a thought as to how Michael had felt being the one to land the final blow ending his twin's Rebellion, being the one to push him down into an abyss, being the one everyone in the celestial, terrestrial and infernal planes credited with bringing the Lightbringer low. It was not how Michael wanted his and his twin's relationship to be remembered. They had been so much more than that for so long and it had been ruined so quickly, not in small part due to Michael's own actions. He understood exactly what Ella Lopez meant when she said being unable to help Lucifer ate her up inside. Michael had done as much as he could do from the Silver City, but it was never enough.
He had spent longer away from his twin than he had with him and yet it never got easier, never stopped hurting. That empty void inside of him never left, never lessened. If anything, it expanded year after year. He tried to fill it up with more and more work. That wasn't a hard feat considering Father had retreated into his study and hadn't come out in a few hundred years, leaving Michael to essentially run the place on his own. The work meant nothing though, it was something to do but he felt as if he was just running out the clock until Creation ended. He had no purpose, nothing to work towards, nobody to share his life with as he was meant to.
He had been brought into this world with a partner, with someone to share his soul, with another half. Even Mother and Father hadn't understood the profound bond that had instantaneously formed between Mikael and Samael upon their creation. Both knew that they were never meant to part and so long as they stayed together, they would never be alone, but Michael had made a choice and it was the wrong choice. He had condemned himself to a life of loneliness and he had done the same to Sam. It had seemed that with this latest trip to Earth that there might be a light at the end of the tunnel for his twin. Michael hadn't truly understood this choice. Humans were fragile and painfully mortal, so terribly flawed and tiny in the grand scale of the universe. He had watched his brother and seen him grow and change as a result of these humans and allowed that perhaps he didn't give them enough credit. Sam had chosen a select few he wanted to stay with as they lived out the few decades they had left. Now there was apparently something wrong with him and one of those mortals was beseeching Michael to help him, to look out for him, to be there for him.
He felt an inexplicable wave of Fear at the thought of going to his brother. Sam was going to be furious with him, livid. He hated him, that much Michael knew for a fact, and Michael deserved that hatred. But Ella Lopez was right, this was a chance to help his brother, maybe even truly mend fences once and for all. He had a choice before him once more. Before he had chosen his father and the Silver City but mainly, he'd chosen Fear over his brother. This time, he was going to make the right choice.
Lucifer grinned as he sat at a table surrounded by his adoring patrons. Lux was in full party mode, having transformed by now from a simple nightclub to a den of hedonism and Lucifer was soaking in every delicious minute of it. Desire practically choked the air, thumping around him even harder than the bass in the speakers. It was a wonderful distraction from things he'd rather not think of lest they put a damper on the mood. He took another swig of his liquor, enjoying the burn on the way down and the slight head rush. His healing was on the blink again, even now that She was nowhere near him and would never be ever again.
(Because he was a monster, because he was unworthy, because he was evil-incarnate and even though he had tried so hard to show her he was trying to be a better man for her it still amounted to a zero sum.)
Rather than worry or stress about it, he chose to enjoy the scant benefits, namely that he could now get drunk and high with considerably less effort than before. He took another swig, not noticing the shivers that passed through the table thanks to the dip in his mood nor the shudder of the Earth beneath his feet.
"Whoa, either I'm seeing double or you've got a twin you didn't mention," one of the girls, a buxom redhead with a Midwestern accent, said.
"I do have a twin, though that means little nowadays," Lucifer replied offhandedly before narrowing his eyes.
"How would you know?"
The redhead pointed past him. Lucifer glanced over and instantly froze. Among the writhing bodies, a painfully familiar face was watching him cautiously. The lights flashed, dimming the area for a moment and when they returned, he was no longer there. Lucifer glanced down at his glass. He didn't think he was drunk enough to be hallucinating.
"So, is it a twin or a clone," the redhead asked.
"It had better be a bloody psychotic break," he replied.
"No such luck."
Lucifer jerked at the sound of his voice, the accent different and new but the timbre and cadence just the same as it was back when they were still a 'they'. He reluctantly looked up at the new guest, the impossible guest.
"Michael."
His twin quirked a small smile in reply.
"Hi Sammy."
He was standing there in jeans and a white turtleneck with a beige tweed jacket, his right shoulder slouched lower than the left and his hair sweeping his forehead. Even if he was hallucinating, he would only think of such a ghastly outfit in his worst nightmares and he was very much awake which meant his twin was really here.
Lucifer stared up at his brother incredulously. It had been yonks since he'd actually seen Michael, let alone spoken to him. There were times over the years where he'd gotten glimpses of him but the other never approached him. Lucifer had told himself he didn't care that Michael had apparently not only cast him out but decided to carry on as if he didn't exist, like the years they spent side-by-side meant nothing now that Dad had decided that questioning him was a sin and Lucifer was the most prolific sinner in the Silver City's history. He, in turn, barely ever mentioned Michael at all if he didn't have to. He was happy to operate as if he had come into being as a single entity and not as a half of a whole, forever set adrift to live out the rest of his considerable existence incomplete. Michael had clearly made his choice, much as he claimed that the concept of it was beyond an angel's capability. He had chosen Dad and that was the end of it. Now, here he was.
Had Dad finally decided he wanted Lucifer back in Hell after all and sent Michael for a repeat of the Rebellion? It wouldn't surprise him. The last significant interactions he had with Michael had been when his twin stood silently and watched as Amenadiel and Remiel had hung Lucifer on display by his broken wings to be gawked at and reviled by Dad's loyalists until the old man finally decided he had his fill and ordered Michael to drag Lucifer, trussed and chained, to the Hellmouth where he pushed him down into the abyss with no hesitation. Lucifer had panicked and latched on to Michael's right wing and let go when it looked like he was going to take Michael down too. Even then, bound and bloody and beaten and broken, he did not want his twin to fall with him. He had still cared.
He spent centuries in Hell, still believing that eventually Michael was going to come for him. He was going to realize that they should've never fought each other, that it wasn't in their natures to be apart. What he got instead was the violent and awful feeling of their soul bond being severed. It hurt just as much as falling had. It was as if someone had reached into him and forcibly rearranged his very essence, cleaving and rending an inimitable element of his grace out of him and leaving him even more bereft than the Fall already had.
He got the picture then, Michael believed he was a monster, just like everyone else did. He saw him as a sinner. He was no longer his Sammy, he was the Devil, the adversary, the beast. His brother was no longer his Mi, he was the Archangel Michael, Beloved Saint, Prince of the Heavenly Host, Defender of Innocents, Weigher of Souls, Judge at the Gates, mortal sworn enemy of Satan himself.
With that in mind, he knew there was nothing good that was going to come of this interaction. If Michael was here, he was here to fight. It wasn't just Lucifer's healing abilities that was on the fritz. His desire mojo, control of Will and Light, superior strength and speed were all suffering lately. He was honestly surprised his wings weren't rotting off. If this was a fight, and likely it was, it wasn't one he was going to win. Maybe one he wouldn't even survive. The idea didn't bother him as much as it probably should've.
"I'm not usually into twin stuff, but I gotta say, I'll make an exception," one of his lovely guests at the table piped up, breaking the tense eye contact between the Archangels. Lucifer scoffed as he just managed to catch a slight blush rise on Michael's cheek.
"Sorry to disappoint, love. Other than assaulting my wayward brother's sensibilities, the suggestion is pointless. We're much more likely to kill each other, I'm afraid. And in that spirit, I suggest we take this upstairs. I don't want to get blood on this couch. It's imported leather."
Without waiting for a reply, Lucifer stood up abruptly and walked past Michael, storming his way towards the staircase because there was no way he was going to get stuck in an elevator with his twin. They very well might cause the thing to break if they started fighting inside of it anyway. He heard Michael behind him but didn't turn around to face him. The other's footsteps were much slower than he would've expected, so clearly he wasn't planning to stab him in the back… again. He burst into his penthouse and stormed towards the bar, grabbing a full bottle of whiskey and knocking it back. He was going to need it. He briefly thought of Miss Lopez and Daniel the Douche who were the ones who most likely were going to find his body, if there was anything left of him. He felt bad for them briefly but then again, they wouldn't have to deal with him making a mess of their lives anymore so perhaps it was for the best.
He turned to face Michael as he entered the room, looking around the penthouse with a vaguely curious expression. Lucifer grit his teeth as he watched him silently.
"This place is nice. You made this all on your own? You've done very well for yourself."
Lucifer narrowed his eyes in response.
"I heard your set earlier. I think I forgot how good you play and sing. Granted we didn't have pianos then, but somehow it was even better than I remember."
Lucifer still said nothing.
"You know Dad made Saraqael the Angel of Music after you left? She couldn't carry a tune to save the universe—"
"Since I 'left'? What an… innocuous way to phrase it. Almost makes it sound as if you gave me a choice in the matter," he interrupted.
Michael pursed his lips in response.
"You know, I've fantasized about what I was going to say to you if we ever had a conversation again. I've had a long time, and I mean a long time, to think of the right words to truly explain to you how much I genuinely loathe your existence. Yet, none of it seems to be enough to convey just how much every fiber in my being wishes nothing more than to make sure you could feel what your betrayal actually did to me," Lucifer spat venomously.
The temperature in the room seemed to flare brightly with his anger and there was an almost imperceptible shudder beneath his feet. There was a flash in Michael's eye as he looked down and away.
"I deserved that."
"Oh, you deserve much worse. More's the pity that despite being Dad's chosen arbiter of punishment that I can't give you what you actually deserve."
Michael flinched in response to his words. If Lucifer didn't know better, he'd say they actually hurt him. Then again, the truth tended to be inconvenient and upsetting for liars such as his brother.
He drained the bottle of whiskey and slammed it down on the bar before holding his arms out.
"Well, get it over with. I don't want to stand here looking at your face any longer than I have to."
Michael glanced up at him with a furrowed brow.
"Get what over with?"
"You're either here to drag me back down to Hell, in which case you'll have to kill me first. Or you're here to cut out the middleman entirely and strike the killing blow as you meant to do all those eons ago. I'm not going to fight. I never wanted to fight you, if you'll remember. You were the one so gung-ho for Dad's approval that you chose to raise your blade against me. Clearly, you've chosen to do it again. So, get it over with. Kill me already and be done with it."
Michael scoffed lightly in reply.
"Sammy—"
"You don't get to call me that! That was a privilege for my twin who was my other half, who knew me better than any in the universe, who would've stood by my side no matter what, who gave me that nickname whilst we created together in the void. That was Mi's nickname and you are no longer that, Saint Michael. You chose that when you betrayed me!"
"Okay, okay," Michael replied, holding up placating hands.
"Lucifer then, at least until I earn the name 'Sammy' again. I'm not here to kill you or fight you."
Lucifer narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
"I'm not. I'm here because... because…"
"Well?"
"Your friends, Ella Lopez and Daniel Espinoza, prayed to me. They expressed concern for you, asked me to protect you, to help you. They said… they said you needed me."
Lucifer stared at him a moment before bursting out into bitter laughter.
"You came here because you think I need you," he spluttered between humorless peels of laughter that abruptly ended as he noticed Michael remained standing, patiently waiting for him to stop.
"You know what? I did need you, Michael. I needed you all the times I tried to do things your way and appeal to Dad with words to grant us freewill. I needed you when every other disgruntled angel came to me, wishing to rise in rebellion and fight for our freedom. I needed you during every hard-fought battle throughout that unholy war. I needed you when Amenadiel strung me up to the Gates like some damned sideshow attraction while all you did was watch. I needed you when I was crashing through the dimensional planes of reality, burning and breaking every second of the way, straight into a lake of fire. I needed you when I was writhing in agony, healing so excruciatingly slow that I could literally feel my body reassembling painful atom by atom. I needed you when I had to scrounge and scrape my way to ruling Hell, as if I had any other option if I wanted to survive. I begged and I pleaded and I prayed for you then, because I needed you. And where were you? Certainly not by my side, as you should've been. So much for angels not having freewill, you made a choice and it wasn't me. After everything we meant to each other, everything we were, you chose Dad. Now you're here because humans, who you don't give a jot about, prayed to you and told you I need you? No, I don't believe you. Why are you really here?"
Michael was staring at him in silent horror. Lucifer thought it was that his words had penetrated and hurt but he caught a glimpse of his reflection out of the corner of his eye. His face had transformed in his anger without him even noticing it. Part of him felt insecure and instantly terrified. The last time someone had seen his devil face, it hadn't ended well. But Michael had abandoned him ages ago, how much worse could it be now that he saw him this way?
"That's right. Take a good look at the monster and see what your treachery wrought, brother. This is what I am now. Samael is dead and you helped kill him. This is me," he retorted defiantly.
Michael approached him as if in a daze. Lucifer felt a sharp twist in his chest as Michael stood close enough to touch. He lifted his hand as if that was exactly what he was going to do and Lucifer flinched violently in response. For some reason, the idea of them touching after so long was terrifying. Irrationally, he wondered if one touch was going to cause him to spontaneously combust into divine flames right then and there. Michael paused and dropped his hand back at his side.
"What happened to you?"
"Well, burning through dimensions and in a literal lake of fire tends to do a number on one's skin routine."
"Not your body, your Light. It's cracked, it's corroded. Your Grace is broken. Your Will is tainted," Michael informed him, his voice audibly trembling.
Lucifer's face receded back into his angelic form as he reeled back from the revelation.
"No, that's not… your lies are getting elaborate."
"Have you noticed anything wrong with your powers?"
Lucifer shifted uncomfortably but didn't answer.
"You said if I fought you, I'd win. I haven't picked up a sword since the Rebellion, my right wing is shot. I haven't won a fight in eons, but you were totally sure I'd win. Your power over Desire never worked on me, but even I could feel it flooding the place downstairs so much I don't think there's a single inhibition or lucid thought left in the place. I've only been here five minutes and I've already noticed three localized tremors in this building alone. It's not natural occurrences, it's you. How did this happen," Michael inquired, sounding shaken.
"Need a report for Dad to punish me later?"
"Dad doesn't even know I'm here. I'm being serious, this isn't just a Fall from Grace, if your soul is left in this state for too long, you could die."
"Makes your job easier."
"For the last time, I'm not here to kill you. I'm here because I care about you!"
"You care? You expect me to believe that shite? It's been hundreds of thousands of years, millions from my perspective, and you've never sent so much as a feather in that entire time. Now, when I'm at perhaps my most vulnerable, here you are and I'm meant to believe it's out of benevolence? I don't think so."
"I'm sor—"
"Don't. I don't want to hear some worthless apology you don't mean. I'm full up on those."
A sudden flash of realization shot through him.
"But that's why you're here, isn't it? She abandoned me, betrayed me after all I'd done to try to keep her safe, to show her how I felt for her. She was going to have me banished to Hell, just like you. She was going to stab me in the back just the same as you, metaphorically perhaps but the poison is a lovely enough substitute for the sword you used to run me through. I've wondered what it was about her that drew me in all this time. I thought it was her Miracle status, but maybe I'm just such a sucker for punishment that I gravitated to someone who's a lot like you: believing in and upholding a system they know to be flawed, sticking to their beliefs even in the face of rational evidence, supposedly a champion of justice and defender of innocents but all the while wearing a mask of care to lure me in and spit me back out when you're done. Well, I'm not falling for it again. I may be a monster, but I'm not an idiot. I learn from my mistakes. Might take a while sometimes but I learn."
"Miracle… The Miracle Father made for you? The Detective? She tried to poison you and banish you to Hell? Why? I thought she was one of your humans."
Lucifer felt his emotions violently shifting as he thought of the Detective, his Detective.
"I thought she was. I wanted her to be mine. I wanted her to feel for me the way I do for her. I wanted to know she saw me and didn't think I was just what Dad told everyone I was. But clearly that wasn't the case. After all these years together, she decided I was unworthy, unlovable, that I was a monster. And why did I expect any different? You did the same. Perhaps you're both right, I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't…"
He felt a weird, heady feeling wash over him and felt his mind drifting into a state of disassociation. There was a space inside of him, a void, that felt like it was expanding and he wanted to disappear into that void, into that nothing space, into oblivion. Being nothing meant there was no chance of pain, of loss, of betrayal and he was so tired of being unwanted and unworthy and unloved. A violent shudder went through the building as Creation reacted to his emotional turmoil, reality shifting uncertainly before he felt hands gripping his face. It felt like there was an electric current from the fingertips straight into his skin. For a moment, he thought he was being smote but then a familiar but welcomed Darkness seeped into forgotten places in his spirit, mingling with his Light and dragging him back to reality and away from the oblivion.
His eyes refocused and he found himself staring into glowing white orbs. Michael was touching him, both physically and spiritually and it rendered Lucifer speechless. He had not felt his twin so close in so long and it awakened a deep longing and yearning for that other half of himself, a longing which he had told himself didn't exist anymore. Perhaps it was the denial of its existence that made it so once he felt it again, he was powerless in the face of it and he could do nothing but stare dumbly at Michael as his eyes returned to their natural brown state, filled with both pain and anger.
"No, you don't get to do that. You are the Lightbringer, you lit the stars across the universe, helped create planets and moons and suns, whole galaxies and ecosystems and life forms all bursting into existence off the strength of your Light and brilliance. You have created symphonies that could make God and Goddess weep from the splendor of it. You managed to seduce Desire themselves. You brought Hell to heel through your own stubbornness and sheer force of Will alone. And when every angel thought you'd simply slink off to some dark corner in the infernal realm to curl up and die, you proved them wrong. You ruled Hell as its king and kept the demons in check more than any other angel ever has. You have survived the darkest things in the worst of odds and now you are giving up because of one treacherous human? A Miracle, yes, but one mortal woman is going to be your downfall? One mortal woman has destroyed your Grace so badly, you would rather fade into oblivion and take Creation with you? What about the other humans who care about you? Ella Lopez and Daniel Espinoza prayed to me for you. What about Linda Martin and Beatrice Espinoza and every other person you claim to care for? What about the demoness, Mazikeen of the Lilim? Does their affection mean so little that you would give up just because of Chloe Decker?"
"It's not that simple! She knows me, she truly knows me. I haven't let anyone in so deeply past the façade since you and both times it's been spat back in my face."
Michael shook his head, his face full of regret.
"You truly believe you're a monster, don't you?"
"Well, why not? Everything I touch I destroy. Every person I love only loves me conditionally and makes it very clear. Dad was right about me, I am a sinner, a beast, put in this universe to cause torment and strife and nothing more. I should've never tried to get close to anyone again."
Lucifer felt the void rising in him once more, the sweet oblivion calling to him, but it was overtaken quickly by Michael's Darkness, still intermingled with his Light and doing its best to strengthen Lucifer's broken Grace. Lucifer shot him a slightly annoyed look at the action and then stepped back in shock as Michael dropped to his knees in front of him.
"I know you don't want to hear this, but with every fiber of my being, I am so sorry for what I've done to you. I thought raising my blade to you and abandoning you in Hell was the worst of it, but I see I've transgressed against you even more than I realized. My actions made you think that you're the monster, that you're the villain in this story when it couldn't be farther from the truth. It was me, it was always me. I was the darker twin, weak, afraid, cowardly. You were always the bright burning Light everyone gravitated to. I took for granted that their care for you wasn't just superficial and when faced with the choice, I chose my weakness, my cowardice. You're right, it was within my own will, my own capacity to choose you or Dad. But you're also wrong. I didn't choose Him because I didn't care about you. I love you, more than any other being in this universe, more than Dad or Mom, more than every angel in the Host combined, more than myself. That's never changed, not then, not now. I chose Him because I was afraid, because I didn't know what would happen if I didn't choose Him. The fear of that unknown kept me from your side, where I was always meant to be. I will never forgive myself for that and I don't expect you to forgive me either. But I need you to know anyway that I am sorry, brother. I repent to you and I will do whatever you deem necessary to atone for my sins against you."
Lucifer stared down at Michael, completely thrown for a loop. He wanted to believe he was lying, he needed him to be lying, but he could tell that he wasn't.
"If you cared so much, why didn't you come to me? I prayed for you, begged for you, and you didn't come."
"I couldn't. I wanted to, so badly. I begged Father. I got down on my knees before Him and the entire host and begged Him to let me see you, heal you at least. No angel was permitted to leave the Silver City for decades after you fell. He said you had chosen this and you were our brother no longer, but our enemy. To aid you was treason and we would be punished."
Lucifer felt his anger flare again.
"Is that why you broke our soul bond, to avoid punishment from Dad? Do you have any idea the torment I felt when you did that to me? I thought the mind-numbing pain couldn't get worse after The Fall and then my soul was literally ripped to shreds and then shoved back inside me with no warning whatsoever. You hardly have much place to judge when and how my Grace cracks seeing as how the last time it happened, it was on account of you! You didn't care to come to Hell when it was damn near dissolving thanks to you breaking our soul bond, you care now because it's the humans in danger instead of the demons."
Michael's face crumbled at that.
"You think I did that? I know just as well as you do how awful and horrifying it is to have your soul violated in such a fashion. I would never have broken our bond, not then when I knew the second you had fallen what a terrible mistake I had made. No other angel could hear prayers from Hell. The only reason I could hear you at all was because of our bond, it was the only connection I had left to you. And yes, all I could feel at that time was your agony, your pain, your anger, but it was still something. I still had you in some way. Father broke the bond. Said I needed to make a clean break so that I could fully embrace my role as Prince of Heaven, said I could have no distractions and that I needed to belong to Him entirely. So long as I shared a soul with another, I was putting someone before Him and His Will, worse still that that person was the newly dubbed King of Hell. I tried to fight it, it made it worse. It only prolonged the pain and I knew it was hurting you too so I let Him do it, I let Him break our bond. I'm sorry for that as well. I wish I had been strong enough to overpower Him, but I wasn't. I couldn't."
Lucifer felt as if the Earth was shifting beneath him, and this time it was only metaphoric. He had believed for so long that it was Michael who had broken their bond. That violation had been the first crack in his Grace, a wound that scabbed over but never healed and always risked cracking open again. Now Michael was saying it was Father who had done it and Lucifer believed him.
"The barriers between dimensions weren't there forever. Eventually, angels were permitted to leave the Silver City again. I saw you a few times and you never approached me," Lucifer pointed out.
"I tried but I… I got scared. I knew you were angry with me, I knew you detested me, and I couldn't… I just couldn't face it. But if you're going to hate me, hate me for the right reasons. Don't hate me because you think I don't care about you or love you, don't hate me because you think I destroyed what little was left of us in your greatest time of need, hate me because I did love you and care for you and it still wasn't enough for me to be anything more than the coward I've always been."
Lucifer felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope. He hated it because nothing had fundamentally changed. Michael had still chosen Dad over him. He had still let Lucifer fall. He had still abandoned him. The fact he hadn't done it out of hatred but out of fear shouldn't have changed anything. Yet, for some reason, it did. Maybe it was because Lucifer was so emotionally wrecked and fragile at the moment. Maybe it was because Earth truly had made him unbearably soft. Maybe it was influenced by Michael's proximity and his soul reaching out to his, trying to reestablish their bond, trying desperately to reconnect that which should never have been broken. Or maybe it was simply because he had missed him. It was pathetic and ridiculous. It was a trap, one Lucifer fell into much too often. Was he truly going to fall for it again?
"Michael, why are you here," he inquired, his voice barely audible.
"Sammy, Lucifer, I'm here because… because I missed you and I love you and I don't want you to feel like you're alone or that you don't deserve to live because of what I've done and what the Miracle did. You deserve so much better than me. I just want to be here with you, that's all. I've spent the last eons in the Silver City, doing nothing, waiting for the end, aimlessly moving forward with no fulfillment, no Light, no love, no nothing. I've been nothing without you. I thought that the opposite was true for you, that you had found purpose and meaning with your humans. That made sense to me. After all, Power is nothing without Will and what use is Fear in the face of Desire? Then, Ella Lopez prayed to me and asked me to come and help you. And I thought of how brave you've always been, how much of a chance you've taken to try to live your life on your own terms. I thought it might be my turn to do the same."
Lucifer watched cautiously as Michael stood to his feet and approached him. He slowly reached out and Lucifer let him take his hands in his, squeezing lightly. Once again, the skin-to-skin contact sent tremors of electricity through his skin, causing his nerve endings to fire as if it was the first time they'd ever been touched.
"I owe you so much, brother. I will pay any amount of penance you want. You can rip every feather out of my wings, you can cast me down to Hell if you'd like, you can string me up for decoration, toss me to the demons for a few millennia. I just want to be here for you for as long as you need, for as long as it takes for your Grace to heal and then if you'll allow me to remain with you afterwards, then I will prove to you I will never make the mistake of betraying you ever again."
Lucifer watched as Michael shrug out his wings and bowed his head, offering himself to Lucifer as if he fully expected him to take out his retribution on him. He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly over Michael's right wing. Both wings looked tattered and lackluster. They'd obviously been poorly maintained but the right one was hanging down limply and at an odd angle. Lucifer also hadn't missed the pain that flashed in his brother's eyes when he unfurled his wings or the spasm in his right hand.
"Did I do that to you," he found himself asking.
Michael glanced at the wing briefly.
"No, Sandalphon during the war. He ran me through with a poisoned spear. Raphael did what she could, but… it's been permanently damaged ever since."
"Then you've paid penance."
Michael looked at him with a hint of disbelief.
"But I haven't—"
"I would never inflict what was done to me on anyone, least of all you. I'm not Dad and I'm not the King of Hell anymore. It's not my job to mete out punishments and I have a feeling you've been punishing yourself for eons, I doubt anything I did will be worse than what you've already done to yourself," he pointed out knowingly.
Michael opened his mouth as if to retort before seemingly thinking better of it. Lucifer shook his head. It felt foggy and light, which could be the alcohol or his cracked Grace or a result of this mindfuck of a conversation. If he was still seeing Linda in a professional capacity, this would certainly warrant a session or a hundred. Perhaps he should make another appointment after this.
"I don't forgive you, Michael. And I don't trust you," he started.
Michael bit his lip in response, not looking surprised but not managing to hide his hurt.
"But… but I have missed you, more than I ever cared to admit. And… and I never stopped loving you even when I hated you."
Michael looked surprised then at his declaration and before Lucifer was ready for it, there were arms followed swiftly by wings thrown around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He stiffened, not expecting the action. The last time he had been so close to any other angel's wings, it was usually during a fight. He couldn't remember when last he had a proper angel hug and least of all a hug with his twin. He felt his own wings unfurl without any conscious thought on his part and he was returning the embrace before he even truly knew he was. Michael held him tighter and he could feel his soul reaching out as well, wishing to intertwine with Lucifer's own the way they used to when they hugged before The Fall. It had always made their hugs different from any other angel hug, made their embraces special and more meaningful, brought their souls closer than ever.
Lucifer nudged open the cracks within himself just a bit. Not enough to let Michael in, he wasn't ready for that, but to let his soul closer than he had been since Dad broke their bond. Even with the smallest of openings, he felt a head rush as the faintest echoes of Michael's emotions and thoughts were impressed upon him, feelings of hope and remorse and hurt, pain, confusion and love. Lucifer relaxed more in his brother's arms, melting into the embrace. It was very likely he was making a mistake. Michael could betray him again, he probably would actually. Even worse, he might not do it out of hate but out of fear which would hurt even more now that Lucifer is giving him another chance. But he was so tired of being alone, of being half of who he was meant to be. He needed Michael, he had always needed him. On the off chance Michael meant what he said, this could be a opportunity to get his brother back and he couldn't lose it.
"We have a lot to talk about. Boundaries, ground rules. I meant what I said about trusting you, but I don't want to talk anymore for the rest of the night. I'm too tired for that."
"You need rest with your Grace so damaged as it is anyway. Come."
Michael pulled away slightly and led him towards the couch where he sat and coaxed Lucifer to lay down, resting his head on Michael's lap. He felt a shiver go down his spine as Michael started running his fingers through his hair, nails brushing against the scalp lightly.
"Sleep, brother. I'll be here when you wake up."
"You'd better or I'll be more cross with you than when you dyed my wings pink."
"What? I just thought you might've liked the change is all," Michael replied and Lucifer could practically hear the smile on his lips.
"You're the one who claimed your appearance was getting repetitive."
"I meant the robes."
"You weren't very specific."
"Asshole."
Michael chuckled lightly in response.
"Well, it worked out in the end. I believe you were the one who managed to convince Amenadiel it was a new fashion trend. It was quite something to see him show up to training with poorly dyed wings, fully expecting everyone else to match."
Lucifer's chuckle joined Michael's as he thought of happier days before his smile dropped.
"That reminds me, if you're going to be on Earth and be wearing my face, you could at least have the decency to dress somewhat presentably. I mean honestly, you look a right state. Tweed and jeans? White and beige? What are you? A bloody librarian? And where'd you buy the stuff? A thrift shop? Some Goodwill donation box? If you're going to be a Morningstar, you'd better dress the part. Pride may be a sin, but some bloody self-respect is not—"
"Okay, what was that about you being tired again? Time to sleep."
Lucifer harrumphed and shut his weary eyes, feeling sleep dragging him down as the exhaustion of the day, of the past year, finally caught up with him.
"Michael?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
"Not for this. I should've been here a long time ago."
Yes, he should've and Lucifer probably wasn't going to ever forgive him for making him wait for so long, but as long as Michael stayed with him he was willing to try and that more than anything gave him hope that maybe oblivion was not the best option after all.
Ella was worried.
She hadn't heard from Lucifer in two weeks. Work had kept her ridiculously busy so she couldn't visit Lux and then SDCC had her away. She had ordered Dan to keep an eye on him but the Lieutenant had mandated that he take some time off since his blowup at Carver and Dan hadn't had a chance to visit him either. Texts had been answered with only scant emojis, so that left fifteen days of pretty much nothing. Ella was incredibly antsy by the time she and Dan finally managed to take the time to swing by the penthouse. There were all kinds of scenarios running through her mind. What if he was dead? What if he had an overdose? Or drank himself to death? Or one of his less savory hook-ups kidnapped him? Or he was arrested for his numerous extralegal activities?
"Stop panicking."
"I'm not panicking."
"You're tapping your leg so hard, you're shaking the elevator," Dan pointed out.
Ella forced herself to stop and sighed.
"It's not panic. Okay, maybe a little. Mostly it's just worry, okay? You see how he's been. With two weeks on his own, who knows what we're going to find?"
The elevator doors opened with an innocuous ding and the two stepped out cautiously. The penthouse looked… normal. There were no masses of passed out bodies signifying an orgy. There were no traces of drugs or empty bottles littering the place as she would've expected. That heavy feeling she had come to associate with Lucifer was not hanging in the air. There was even the scent of food, actual food wafting through the apartment along with the sound of pans sizzling in the kitchen.
Dan and Ella shared a look before they both crept in the direction of the sound only to see Lucifer standing in the kitchen wearing an apron and humming to himself as he cooked up a giant breakfast of eggs, sausages and bacon, hash browns, french toast and freshly cut fruit salad.
Dan and Ella shared another look of utter incredulity.
"What the hell," Dan blurted out.
Lucifer turned to them with the spatula raised defensively. He tilted his head curiously when he saw them.
"Oh, hello."
"Hello? That's all you've got to say?! Here we are freaking out about your well being, and you're just standing there like a normal, well-adjusted adult," Ella ranted.
"Thank you for the concern, I suppose," Lucifer responded, with an air of befuddled amusement.
"Well, now I wanna take it back. I've been calling and texting for days. You couldn't give any indication you were doing better? And what's with the accent?"
"I've been asking myself the very same thing," Lucifer said.
Except it wasn't the Lucifer standing by the stove, it was the other Lucifer that was now sauntering out of the bedroom, a glass of brown liquor in hand.
"He could've chosen any accent at all, one with refinement and class, and this is what he went it. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. He wouldn't know sophistication if it hit him."
"Or I don't want to prance around talking like some trust-fund snob."
"Says the bargain bin hobo."
"You know, considering the décor downstairs, I wouldn't exactly describe you as sophisticated. Gaudy, however…"
Lucifer gasped as if personally assaulted.
"You little…"
"And cliché for sure."
"You take that back."
"It's like it was decorated by those fledglings I've seen loitering outside of Hot Topic."
"I hate you."
Apron-Lucifer smiled impishly in reply but said nothing.
"Okay, either I've finally lost it or someone's playing a joke," Dan muttered, rubbing his head as he switched his gaze between the two. They were entirely identical, save for the clothes and their hairstyles.
"Neither, though now that I have the opportunity, several pranks are in order. But this is my twin, Michael. Michael, meet Ella Lopez and Daniel the Douche."
Ella glanced between the two for a moment more before a smile started forming on her face. Meanwhile, Dan groaned.
"You mean there are two of you? And here I thought things couldn't get worse," Dan groaned.
"What can I say? I'm a gift that keeps on giving. Though I have been known to take on occasion. I'm versatile that way," Lucifer quipped, causing Dan to groan again.
More than anything, it was the risqué joke that finally made Ella think Lucifer was really going to be okay. She couldn't hold herself back anymore from jumping towards him and wrapping her arms around him.
Just as usual, he stiffened and floundered, unsure where to put his hands before he patted her back awkwardly and squirmed around waiting for her to release him.
"You're okay," Ella noted brightly. Lucifer's mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he responded.
"I'm getting there," he settled on, glancing at Michael out of the corner of his eye.
Ella noticed and decided that his twin was probably part of the reason for Lucifer's improvement and that deserved a hug as well.
Michael stiffened too when she hugged him but didn't flounder like he didn't understand how hugs worked, though he was certainly awkward.
"Oh… um… thanks?" he muttered when she pulled back, staring at her like she was an alien.
"No, thank you for keeping this idiot out of trouble."
"I resent that," Lucifer groused, raising his glass to his lips.
"I assure you, it's been a full time job," Michael replied, taking the liquor and replacing it with a mug of hot chocolate.
Lucifer shot him a glare in return.
"It has whipped cream, cinnamon and brownie bits on top, extra chocolate too just how you like it."
Lucifer grumbled with annoyance but still sipped the drink, making an audible moan of approval.
"I've made extra food. You two should stay for breakfast. It will be a thank you for your assistance in reuniting me with my brother."
"Reuniting you? How did we do that," Dan asked.
"Well, you called me of course. I—"
"Michael," Lucifer hissed, giving him a meaningful look.
"Oh, I thought they already…"
Lucifer let out a long-suffering sigh while Ella and Dan furrowed their brows in confusion.
Neither of them had called Michael, they hadn't even thought of his existence, at least not since they had prayed in that church.
Oh.
Oh.
Ella looked between Lucifer and Michael once more before glancing over to Dan, whose eyes eyes were as wide as hers.
Well, shit.