Author's Note: So, because you all asked so nicely, this will now be more than a two chapter fic. There's probably going to be serious deviation from the show after tonight's episode, but then I'll just consider this A/U. Also - I have no intention of trying to reconcile the fifty gazillion versions of the Devil. I'm mostly going to reference this show, and the story of Lucifer getting cast into Hell because he was jealous/pissed at humanity and their favorite status with God. I'm only guessing that this show is painting him as an angel who didn't want to do the task God assigned him, and he's mad because no matter how many times Amenadiel or anyone else tries to tell him it's a gift/honor to be the king of Hell, he's mad because God made him into the villain of the story, and everyone blames Lucifer for the bad things that happen.
Pretty sure God commanded people to kill their children (yeah, he stopped them last minute, but still. Ouch). And I can see this version of Lucifer/the Devil not only not being able to go about life the way the rest of the angels do, but he's being cursed and railed against for all of the things that he doesn't do. Sort of like a kid who gets blamed for everything that their younger sibling does. ANYWAY - ON WITH THE STORY!
BTW - you guys rock. 2 chapters. 50 reviews. I love the Lucifer fandom.
Amenadiel was beginning to deeply regret ever answering one of Lucifer's prayers. Ever since his brother figured out that he couldn't ignore them, he'd call him down for anything from asking him to open a particularly stubborn pickle jar (not that Lucifer couldn't he just wanted to irritate his brother more), or try and drag him into a situation that Amenadiel could only describe as deeply pornographic with several aspiring 'actresses'.
He really didn't want to know what he wanted this time, but a prayer was a prayer.
"You know, I'm not yours to summon whenever you want," Amenadiel said, before Lucifer's hand was around his throat and lifting him into the air as if he weighed little more than a house cat.
"Dear brother, I'm going to ask you this once…" Lucifer snarled. His eyes flashed crimson and for a moment Amenadiel saw his older brother's true face. "And know that if you lie to me, I will skin you, and relieve you of yours. Did. You. Take. Them?"
Amenadiel choked, gasping for air, but didn't struggle. Despite having been on Earth and without wings for years, Lucifer was still an archangel – struggling just got him killed faster.
"Take what?" he rasped.
Lucifer didn't budge for a moment, his unblinking crimson eyes focused with deadly intent on his younger brother. Angels could tell lies from truth, intent from conviction, deception from sincerity. Amenadiel gave a quick prayer to his Father that it wasn't one of the abilities Lucifer was losing.
"I don't know what you're talking about, brother," Amenadiel gasped. "If you put me down, I can help."
With a wordless snarl, Lucifer flung him away, not bothering to see if he landed on his feet and angrily hurled the nearest table end over end across the room. "You're the only other one who knew about them, so who would even know what to look for?"
Amenadiel rubbed his throat, clearing it experimentally before venturing a question. "Knew about what?"
"My WINGS!" Lucifer roared, and quite literally burst into flames. The reality of Lux dissolved into flickering images of Hell as Lucifer's temper flared violently, real enough that Amenadiel could swear he felt the heat of the flames on his wings, could hear the screaming above the roar of the Pit. He knew they weren't in Hell – that this was a side effect of Lucifer's temper, one he used to torment humans here on Earth. He couldn't necessarily alter reality, but he could influence how one perceived it. "Somebody stole my wings!"
"Did you speak to Father?" he asked, and barely ducked out of the way of the barstool Lucifer hurled at him.
"And why…" Lucifer hissed, stalking towards him, hands balling into fists, "would I? Father hasn't spoken to me for thousands of years, and you think my first action should be to crawl back to Him, begging for help?"
Amenadiel stepped back, hands up placatingly. "I'm just asking. I'm not making suggestions." And he wasn't. Lucifer was mildly annoying when he was in his truculent child mode, but that was about it. But he was still the archangel who went to war with God himself. When he lost his temper, the reemergence of the apocalypse was always a possibility, and he wasn't about to argue with his Father's favorite son on a rage bender. "When did they go missing?"
Lucifer took a deep breath, closing his eyes and counting to ten…and then to thirty before the cool, darkened interior of Lux melted back into view. When the last of the flames disappeared, he opened his eyes, and they were back to his almost black human ones.
Apocalypse averted. For now.
"The night before last," Lucifer said, his voice back to a normal volume. He pulled delicately at the cuffs of his suit. "I found the human responsible for the actual theft, but he regrettably died before he could tell me anything useful."
Amenadiel raised an eyebrow.
Lucifer scowled. "I didn't kill him, no. There's no tactical advantage to having a dead informant when I can't question him in Hell."
Amenadiel crossed his arms.
"Oh, fine. I didn't kill him, but I didn't put a whole lot of effort into stopping him either."
"You have got to learn to control your temper, brother," Amenadiel cautioned. "And just for future reference, I had no idea what you'd done to your wings, other than you'd cut them off. I didn't think that you wouldn't want to keep eyes on them."
Lucifer looked away. "I couldn't stand the sight of them."
"They're a gift, Lucifer. Just like your dominion in Hell, you're just too stubborn to accept it," Amenadiel said.
"When you said you wanted to help, I didn't think I would have to listen to this again. If Father can't convince me to go back, little brother," Lucifer sneered. "That would be serious pride on your part to think otherwise."
Dropping the subject for the moment, Amenadiel asked, "What about Mazikeen?"
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "She couldn't take them even if she wanted to. They're still angel wings, and she's still a demon."
Ah yes. The technicalities of being an angel king of demons. Wings were the hand of God himself upon his children – demons couldn't touch them without being destroyed on contact.
"But could she have someone else take them?" he asked.
"Maze's entire purpose is to protect me. Unwanted or not, but that doesn't mean that she can pick and choose how. Stealing my wings herself or through an intermediate party doesn't protect me at all."
"Perhaps it was that human you've been keeping as a pet," Amenadiel suggested. "They keep all sorts of strange things as mementos."
Lucifer's eyes flickered dangerously red. "Detective Decker is neither a pet nor suicidally stupid, and she's about the only human who doesn't believe me when I tell her who I am. She thinks I'm some sort of deluded mortal who claims he's the Devil because of some past trauma, and that my wings are a metaphor." He sighed, and the red disappeared. "If I told her they were missing, she would assume I meant allegorically."
Amenadiel shook his head disbelievingly. "See what happens when you tell people the truth?"
"Oh, shut up, brother, would you?" Lucifer grumbled. "If you're going to be of no help, then go somewhere else."
Amenadiel sighed, and gestured towards the round table in the corner of the dance floor. "Shall we continue civilly?"
Lucifer rolled his eyes, but gave a low, mocking bow with an exaggerated sweep of his arm. "Dear brother, would you care to sit? Perhaps I should get Maze to fetch some tea and biscuits?"
"I can't imagine why Father cast you out," he muttered. He allowed his wings to hide, forcing the image of his human form into reality. He could say it was because it's impossible to sit with sixty foot wings attached to your shoulders, but in reality, it was much simpler. He knew his brother, knew his temper when it came to reminders of their Father and the Heaven he was forced out of. Even if his own were smoky black compared to the blinding white of an archangel, he knew every time Lucifer saw them, it set off that mile-wide rebellious streak. His father sent him to negotiate with Lucifer – not antagonize him.
As Amenadiel moved to slide into the bench seat, and almost jumped right back up.
"Aw, you don't want to cuddle?" Maze purred, smiling up at him. "If I had feelings, they would be hurt right now."
"You know I hate it when you skulk around in the shadows like that," Amenadiel said. He pushed her over, and she slid easily across the shiny surface, smirking.
Three glasses appeared before them, and an opened bottle of the house finest.
"You know that's frowned upon," he scolded lightly.
"Whiskey is the devil. This is bourbon," Maze corrected. She poured herself two fingers worth and handed the bottle to Lucifer, who didn't even bother with the glass. "Don't be an impolite guest in the Devil's own house."
He scowled at her, but she smiled sweetly back at him as she took the bottle back long enough to pour him a glass.
"None of us took them," Amenadiel said. "We wouldn't have reason to, and our Father hasn't commanded any of us to interfere with you here. What about your loyal...followers?"
Maze pulled her lip back in a snarl, her beautiful face flickering to her true form momentarily. "We would never take something of our King's. Besides. I'm the only one he allowed out with him."
Amenadiel raised an eyebrow. "Really? You left your army at home?"
Lucifer glared at him. "One, I don't have an army. Not anymore. Secondly, I didn't actually enjoy my time in Hell, unlike demons. They were more than happy to stay behind."
In truth, Maze would've been more than happy to stay behind, but that wasn't her purpose. Her existence was to protect that of her King, and while Lucifer had extended the choice to stay or go, they both knew it was just a polite gesture. She could no more stay in Hell without Lucifer then she could follow Amenadiel into Heaven.
"So if it wasn't angels, and it wasn't demons, then who would stand to gain from stealing from the Devil?" Amenadiel asked. "Nephilim? Hunters?"
Maze suddenly frowned, and Lucifer noticed, raising an eyebrow. "What? Did you think of something?"
The demon carefully met his gaze before speaking. "What about someone who didn't know what they were looking at?"
"And they just happened to steal the container and find the secret compartment with my wings and they decided to take them?" Lucifer asked, disbelief obvious in his voice.
"They're massive – whoever took them, they would've been noticed," Amenadiel pointed out.
Lucifer cringed, rolling his shoulders like he could feel his wings being crushed. "If someone broke them, Father won't have to worry about Souls being punished appropriately in Hell…"
Amenadiel rubbed his forehead, trying hard not to constantly remind his older sibling how highly frowned upon it was to resume his duties on Earth instead of Hell.
"What about someone who doesn't know they're yours?" Maze asked.
Lucifer groaned. "Oh, of all the idiotic…I hate zealots." He pointed an angry finger at Amenadiel. "You really need to get a better Scribe. There's entirely too much open interpretation for something that is supposed to be the law of our Father."
"You lost me…"
"You need to hang out on Earth a little more, Bird Boy," Maze said. "People find Jesus on potato chips and kill themselves over comets. What do you think someone would do if they actually stumbled upon angel wings?"
Amenadiel sighed. "This is what happens when you go around introducing yourself as the real you."
"I can't lie, remember?" Lucifer snapped. "The closest I can get is to tell people the most ridiculous version of the truth and hope they don't believe me, and most of them don't."
"But you're not being even remotely careful anymore," Maze protested. "You're actually out using your powers in front of other people! Just because what's-her-face doesn't believe you, doesn't mean any one of a dozen or more people who witnesses or overhears you talking to her won't."
The look that Lucifer leveled at Maze would have most mortals crying, but Maze stood her ground, folding her arms defiantly across her chest.
The demon was spared by the sudden interruption of a tinny rendition of Heavy Young Heathen's Being Evil Has a Price from Lucifer's phone. He glanced at the call screen, and given the nature of their discussion, Amenadiel assumed he would ignore it and let it go to voice mail. Instead, he answered with a cheerful "Detective! How can I can help you?"
Maze made a cutting off gesture with her hand, and Lucifer ignored her.
"I'll be right there," he said, and promptly hung up. The smile briefly remained, until he looked back at Maze. "Don't ever tell me what to do."
Maze snarled. "She does often enough!"
"No, Maze, you once again completely miss the point. She asks," Lucifer said. "Brother, I assume you can find your way to the door easily enough. Or stay and have another romp with Maze for all I care."
As Lucifer left the two of them staring after him, Maze with a look of sheer disgust and Amenadiel in disbelief, the angel turned back to the demon.
"Do you know who stole them?" Amenadiel asked. "Be honest. I know it's a foreign concept."
Maze shrugged. "I don't know. He gets enough admirers in here that are more than happy to have the chance to tell their friends they had a one-night stand with the Devil himself, but they're the typical groupies. They don't think he's honest about his name. They think it's like a stage name, and the name Lucifer Morningstar has a reputation in this city. He's their claim to fame."
"But?"
Maze shrugged again. "Sometimes…they're a different type of fan."
Could angels get tension headaches? Amenadiel could swear he was getting one. This is new punishment. It was because he hadn't convinced Lucifer to go back where he was supposed to be. "You mean like those zealot nut jobs that think the world is ending every time Hale-Bopp makes a pass?"
"Yeah. They drive me insane. They're always trying to steal whatever they can get their hands on that they've seen him touch."
"Does he know about them?"
Maze rolled her eyes. "Lucifer has the same self-absorbed vanity of all you winged rats. He doesn't remember anyone beyond the moment he's looking directly at them. Not unless he finds them interesting."
"Like that detective?" Amenadiel asked.
"She's the current fascination. But that girl, Delilah, who was murdered in front of the club…he liked her. There's only been a couple that he's helped out, and it's only the ones that actually succeeded. You know how he likes to give them chances?"
He nodded.
"He's a lot happier when they don't fail."
"Has any of these religious…fans…" Amenadiel made air quotes around the word fans, "been around lately?"
Maze shook her head. "Not that I've noticed."
"You're a bit of a hunter, right?" Amenadiel asked. "Go and hunt out some information on them. Make sure they're not starting trouble."
Maze's smile was a little too wide to be human, but she was practically glowing at the prospect. She was more closely related to a hellhound than another demon. "With pleasure."
With that, she vanished – no puff of smoke or anything else so dramatic, but he could smell the lingering scent of brimstone in her wake, faint enough humans probably wouldn't have noticed.
The not-tension headache twinged. He really, really didn't want to have to ask Lucifer's brothers for help. Yes, technically all of the angels were siblings, but the archangels were a different…class. True brothers in every sense of the word. Michael and Lucifer had never gotten along, and Gabriel only slightly less so, but if he or Maze couldn't find Lucifer's wings, they would have to ask for help. He was less concerned about his brothers finding out. He was considerably more concerned about his Father. While He was typically the hands off styled parenting, Amenadiel couldn't be sure he'd take the same approach with this.
Especially since Lucifer had always been his favorite Son…and if anything happened to Lucifer…
Amenadiel shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.
Ok, done with expository chapters. I don't think I want to make this very long - take a look at how my Agents of SHIELD Ward redemption fic turned out. That was a ONE SHOT. I AM AT ALMOST 100k WORDS AND I'M NOT DONE. So, I don't want to do that again. 10 chapters max. That's my goal. But from here on out, it's going to be much closer to the show's format. Murder, Lucifer consults...and then I'm going to do some serious damage to him. Because I am an awful, awful human being.
