Author's Note: So, I'm hoping that because I've been reading and rereading this chapter for days now that it sounds like a lot of dialogue. I had to have SOME sort of an explanation chapter for Lucifer and Maze to catch up Dan with everything, so I feel like a lot of this, you as readers already know -but Dan didn't, so I had to make the sacrifice. Last exposition chapter, I swear.
Addressing a couple of questions that people asked in reviews: 1) When do I update? Um...whenever I manage to get a chapter done. Honestly, I didn't have this planned when I started this story - it was honestly a one shot that just sort of EXPLODED. I'm also trying to alternate updates between this and my 100 fic, Left Behind, because these are both requests fics, so I try once a week updates (but possibly more if I feel inspired or I get stuck at school). 2) Will I keep Chloe and Lucifer platonic? Yes. Yes, I will because I suck at romance and I hate that genre in general. So no, sorry for anyone wishing for a Deckerstar, this is not that. 3) Where did I get that Samael was the angel of Death? Google. Also Dictionary of Angels by Gustav Davidson. I think it's Rabbanic lore. Waaaay old lore. 4) Wishing there was more Lucifer whump - oh, believe me. I am a sick, twisted human being who is probably bound for a special Hell. If you think a bad case of Angel Man Flu is the worse I am doing to Lucifer, think again. I'm just giving him a respite before I REALLY do some damage (Feathered Filly can attest to the messed up storylines I can write - check out Left Behind, Caged, Demons or Running Up that Hill).
Enough intro. ONWARD!
"I think he's coming around."
Dan groaned, putting a hand to his aching head. "Ow…"
He wasn't in the club anymore – he was on a couch. A surprisingly comfortable couch. What the…? He blinked awake, and slowly, his vision came back into focus.
Maze was leaning over him, almost nose to nose with him and she smiled brilliantly.
A flash of memory, of missing skin and inhuman face. He shoved himself back and away from her until he ran into the arm of the sofa he was lying on.
And Morningstar burst out laughing, clapping his hands in delight as he pretty much jumped off the other arm of the sofa where he'd been perched like his favorite team had just scored the winning point. "That, Detective, was hands down, the best reaction I have ever seen. My Father, I thought you were going to break glass – tell me, have you ever considered a career in the opera?"
"What the hell did you do to me?" Dan demanded, and winced as the volume drove a spike through his head. "I didn't even take the drink!"
Maze shook her head in disgust. "We didn't drug you," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Then why does my head hurt?"
Lucifer, who was still laughing like an idiot, took a moment to try and take a breath. He couldn't keep the shit eating grin off his face though. "That's from when you hit your head on the floor when you passed out like a princess. I think you hurt Maze's feelings."
"Guess good looks are only skin deep after all," Maze said, her lower lip jutting out in a mock pout.
Dan pressed a hand to the back of his head and sure enough, there was a sizable goose egg just above his hairline. "If you didn't drug me…then what the hell was that?" he said, grimacing as he probed at the bump.
"Maze's true face," Lucifer said impatiently. "We just went over this. Not ten seconds before you screamed like a dying pterodactyl and reverse face planted on the floor."
"What are you?" he demanded. His head hurt, and once again – he could explain absolutely nothing of what he saw in Lux. At least he wasn't naked this time…small favors.
He was never coming here again. Not without a chaperone.
Lucifer rolled his eyes, dropping his head almost straight back like a melodramatic teenager. "Again – we've been over this. I'm the Devil, and Mazikeen here is my…" he waved his hand in the direction of the woman. "Former public relations officer."
"Are you a devil too?" Dan asked Maze bitterly, still rubbing at the back of his head.
"Only one of me, I'm afraid," Lucifer said. "She's a higher class of demon."
"Like an archdemon?" Dan guessed.
There was that look again – like a surprised appraisal – as Maze and Lucifer glanced at each other.
Dan sighed, throwing up his hands in resignation. "I'm first generation American. My entire family is from Mexico and very Catholic. I spent a lot of time in church."
Lucifer rolled his eyes, but he gave a half nod. "I suppose that explains why you're taking this slightly better than most."
Dan shook his head, immediately regretted it, and held up one finger. "No, no…don't think I'm handling this better. I'm still not convinced I'm not suffering from a concussion."
"Oh for the love of…." Lucifer grumbled, and in three quick strides was next to Dan. He reached out a hand, pressed three fingers to Dan's forehead before he could protest, and suddenly…
His headache was gone. Just like that. Hell, he felt better than he had in days. Dan reached a quick hand up to the back of his head, and there was nothing. No lump, no bruise, no sore spot.
"Better?" Lucifer asked irritably, gesturing towards Dan's head before he shoved his hands back in his pockets.
Dan couldn't think of an appropriate response. He just stared at Lucifer, mouth open in shock.
Lucifer's thinning patience seemed to be waning, and after several seconds of no answer, he reached his hand out again, lip curled into a sneer. "I can just as easily give it back, if that's what it takes to get an intelligent response out of you, Detective. If you react this poorly over a cured headache, I suspect you're not going to be of any use to me in this case."
Dan reared back, well out of reach of the club owner and almost rolling off the side of the couch as he did so. "No, no, no…" he said, finally finding his voice. "I just didn't know you could do that."
Lucifer frowned. "What?"
"Do something nice. Something…good?" Dan floundered for the right word. "Like I said – raised Catholic. Never heard any mention of the Devil actually helping anyone. Even if it was just the divine version of Advil."
Lucifer actually looked slightly mollified at Dan's reasoning. Doubting his ability to do anything nice for someone was apparently more acceptable than doubting his identity.
"Yes, well, still an archangel," Lucifer said dismissively.
"Besides," Maze piped up from her corner of the couch. "How do you think he tortured Souls?"
Dan took a moment for that to process. "You took away pain…just to give it back?"
Lucifer smiled, but it wasn't his normal, exuberant grin. He bowed stiffly, more mocking than showing respect. "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Lord of Hell still counts in this case."
"You're really the Devil?" Dan said. He knew he was repeating himself. But no matter how many times he said it, it still sounded insane.
"Maze, I think we've made a terrible error in our judgement of suitable help," Lucifer said. "This one is stuck on repeat."
The familiar irritation at the constant dismissal by Lucifer helped more than anything. "Look, sorry, okay? It takes me more than ninety seconds to wrap my head around the fact that you're really the Lucifer Morningstar my nana used to warn me about when I was a kid, alright? I'm still expecting horns and a tail and cloven hooves."
"Would this help?" Lucifer said cheerfully, cocking his head to one side. His almost black eyes suddenly shifted, sliding sideways until his now rectangular pupils were horizontal, the whites of his eyes darkening to black and his irises flashed crimson.
To his credit, Dan didn't scream this time… but he still couldn't help the reflexive sign of the cross.
Lucifer's eyes flicked back to human, looking mildly offended. "Please tell me you're not actually trying to ward me away."
"Habit. Sorry."
Lucifer hmphed, shoving his hand back in his pocket. "At least you're adapting. Maybe not a terrible choice after all."
And like just like that, Dan's brain kicked back into detective mode. Overcome. Adapt. He'd lived in LA his entire adult life, and the actual Devil running around the city was not actually the strangest thing he'd ever seen.
He could also be totally losing his mind, and for now…oh well.
"Wait, why haven't you told Chloe about this?" he asked. "I mean, I know you keep telling her you're the Devil, but why not do that – that thing you just did? She's totally convinced you're making it up."
"Because unfortunately for your ex, she's a great, inexplicable neutralizer – and considering what she's seen me do so far, and the effect that I have on people that displease me, and still doesn't believe me, it would take an actual act of God to get through to her that I'm not an act," Lucifer growled. "And as we've already mentioned…humans don't do well when they see the real me."
"Ok, so why tell me?" he asked. "Why now? Is it because of the case?"
"Precisely," Lucifer said, seemingly relieved to get onto a better topic than questioning his identity. "Maze and I have stumbled onto a bit of a problem. Someone else seems to have figured out who I am, and they don't seem to be interested in being friendly."
"All those murders…are they really because of you?" Dan asked.
Apparently, it was the wrong question, because suddenly the temperature skyrocketed in the penthouse, and Lucifer's eyes flashed crimson.
"I have nothing to do with this," he snarled. He'd lost the British accent, his voice sounding like the thing of nightmares – as if a dragon tried to speak. "I am not the one to blame, Detective – I am not the villain of this story, but I can change that quick enough."
"Lucifer," Maze said, putting a hand on his arm. "He's not saying it's your fault, he's saying someone's is doing them because of you – for you. Wanted or not."
Lucifer turned red eyes on his bartender, lips pulled back in a sneer and Dan would swear under oath his teeth didn't look human.
"We need him," Maze said firmly, not backing down.
There was a brief moment when it looked like Lucifer was going to ignore her, but almost just as suddenly reality snapped back into place. The temperature dropped, and his human mask was back in place as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
Except this time, Dan noticed that the club owner looked…tired. Which was odd by itself, considering he'd never seen Lucifer look ill at ease, except in the company of children. The man ran a night club that was literally open all night, and then spent his days with Chloe. Usually, he was obnoxiously enthusiastic about everything and everyone – corpses made him positively gleeful. Knowing who and what he was now, it made even less sense.
"Something's wrong with you, isn't there," Dan said. "This case…these people, whoever the hell they are…they're actually on to something, aren't they?" He glanced over at Maze, who was keeping quiet. "When we were in interrogation with that woman, with Kaitlyn. You mentioned something about an exorcism, but like it was a bad thing. What exactly would it do to either of you?"
"Hurt," Maze said. "Really badly."
"Would it have that effect normally?" Dan asked, looking back to Lucifer. "If anyone said those words at random, would it have sent you to the hospital?"
Lucifer shrugged indifferently. "The strength of the belief in the person saying it is what makes it work. If you're repeating them because they're line from a movie, but you think it's made up – it would do nothing. Maze actually wouldn't be bothered either way, but that's an oddity all her own. Lots of things that normally would affect her kind don't affect her at all – I made sure of it. For the rest of us…it's sort of like being torn inside out. Like someone reaching down your throat and grabbing hold of your soul and trying to pry it free."
"So if someone said it to any angel, or archangel or demon or whatever…you would have the same reaction?" Dan asked. "It's not specific to you?"
Lucifer frowned, but nodded. "No, it's not specific to me. If that woman said it to any of us, it would be the same reaction."
"And at the crime scene…you weren't screwing around, you were legitimately stuck in the binding sigil, weren't you?"
"Wait, someone actually managed to trap you?" Maze demanded angrily, turning on her boss. Lucifer gave her a withering scowl, an obvious sign of I'm not in the mood.
"How many others have you told?" Dan asked. "Not like you keep telling Chloe, either, like it's some cosmic joke, but like you just showed me. How many people have seen what you can do?"
Lucifer again shrugged dismissively. "Maybe fifteen or so. Most people don't really know why I affect them, and most don't care. And, just for the record, I have nothing against people in general. Usually."
"Right. Just punishing the wicked," Dan said, recalling the years in Catholic school. "But everyone in LA knows there's something odd about this place, right? Those are the rumors. Lucifer of Lux is the guy you go to when you're out of options, and he'll make you a deal. I mean, shit – Lux is even at a crossroad."
"Your point?" Maze asked.
"Is there any reason why someone would want to prove you are who you say you are?" Dan asked. "That you're not just putting on an act, and you really are the Devil?"
"You sound like you're trying to steer this conversation, Detective. Enough with the twenty questions," Lucifer said. "Just get to the point."
Dan glanced at Maze. "When we were in interrogation, Kaitlyn said she wasn't trying to hurt you, but she also said she was trying to free you. No, wait…" he stopped himself. "She didn't actually call you Lucifer. She called you Samael, and Maze said Samael didn't exist anymore. Were youSamael?"
Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning tiredly up against a wall. "Highly abbreviated angelic history: before I rebelled, I went by the name of Samael. I was God's wrath on Earth. Flipped Dad the bird, got kicked out, banished to Hell, renamed Lucifer, and until five years ago reigned as Lord of Hell when I decided to quit and relocate."
"So when she says trying to free you…what the hell does that mean?" Dan asked. "If you're the same person, then I don't think you can get much freer than abandoning your throne and hanging out on the Sunset Strip."
"Free may not have been the word she meant to use," Maze said. "Or maybe that's just whatever her puppet master said it meant. We know whoever it was lied to her about what the exorcism would do."
"Lied, or didn't know what would happen?" Dan asked.
"No," Lucifer said, shaking his head. "Anyone that would know that an exorcism would have any effect at all would know that it would be bad."
"So we have someone who knows what they're doing…but they're telling their followers something else?" Dan asked. "But it still comes back to why? Free you, kill you…what would be the purpose behind that? I mean, can you be killed?"
Lucifer rubbed his hand against his forehead, looking distracted. "Yes, technically. Our Father can kill us, and we can kill each other. But no one in the history of humanity has ever managed to cause harm to an angel and definitely not an archangel. We're second only to Father."
"Except for recently," Maze pointed out. She raised an eyebrow, tapping her fingers on the arm of the couch. "Blondie managed to shoot him not a month ago."
"Blondie..." Dan echoed. "Wait…you mean Chloe shot you at that crime scene? I thought you said the kid – whatever the hell his name was, the brother – I thought he shot you!"
Lucifer shrugged. "If I'd told the truth, what would have happened?"
Dan shook his head. Different problems for a different time. "So wait, I thought you just said nothing could hurt you?"
Again, Lucifer shrugged. "Detective Decker obviously can, and like we've already established, so can an exorcism ritual in the wrong hands. The bleeding thing is a new and very unwanted phenomenon."
"Does that mean you're mortal?" Dan asked.
"Yes and no? I haven't been inspired to push it, Detective. Getting winged with a bullet hurt enough and having someone trying to split me in half was very unpleasant."
Dan paused, wondering about the possibilities in the madhouse he suddenly found himself in. A fallen archangel who was decidedly notinvulnerable anymore, his demonic assistant, and some batshit crazy angel groupies that were possibly trying to kill him – possibly unknowingly.
"When you said you needed me…you seem to have most of this already figured out," Dan said slowly. "Why did you decide to bring me in?"
Maze and Lucifer shared a look, and it was like watching a silent, damn near instant conversation.
"Lucifer's wings went missing," Maze said, without breaking eye contact with her boss. "That storage container that went missing? They were in there. When we got the container back…they were gone, and we haven't been able to find them. Not me, and not Amenadiel."
Dan raised an eyebrow at that name. He'd never heard it before, but then again, not a whole lot of angels were given names in the Bible.
"Younger brother," Lucifer clarified, sighing. "One who's not very happy with me and my choice to abandon Hell because now he has to keep an eye on all the Souls there to make sure they don't escape."
"You don't have wings?" Dan asked.
Lucifer rolled his eyes, and finally gave up on standing, dropping gracelessly down into a chair opposite them. "Have I mentioned how much I hate recaps? When I left Hell, I had Maze cut them off. I had them in storage, and they're gone. There. Cliff notes."
Dan involuntarily shuddered at the idea of letting someone hack off an appendage. "So those scars Chloe mentioned…those were really where your wings were?"
Lucifer nodded.
"Why would anyone want them?"
"People are strange about divinity," Lucifer explained. "Some people ignore it even when it's staring them in the face. Others will make everything a sign from God. And then others…others just sort of…"
Maze splayed her fingers out from her head, miming an explosion. "Ka-boom."
Lucifer continued. "Sometimes when people see the truly divine, something God created – like an archangel's wings, it just sort of fractures their reality. True Believers – those are the ones you want to watch out for. They're the ones that become crusaders and madmen. It's like they can suddenly justify everything, no matter how terrible. Life and death mean nothing to them because they lose the context of it. They suddenly think that they understand the 'big picture', but that's not what life is about. Not for humans anyway."
In that moment, it suddenly struck Dan just how little of humanity made sense to Lucifer. Maybe this is what Chloe always saw in him – he wasn't actively trying to be a jerk, he just honestly didn't understand. Maybe that was the explanation behind why Lucifer just seemed to throw himself entirely into an experience – for him, it was something new, novel and until very recently – completely unavailable to him.
He almost laughed.
The Devil was envious of humans.
The realization spurred another thought. If Devils could be jealous of humans…could it go the other way too?
"Maze…" Dan said slowly, trying to connect the dots laid out before him. "You said Kaitlyn was a True Believer. Right?"
Maze frowned, but nodded.
"Do they show up on their own? Or does it take the sight of something truly divine to push them over that edge?" he asked. "Something…like the sight of angel wings?"
Lucifer's jaw actually dropped for a split second in surprise. "Bugger me raw…" he whispered. And then suddenly he was on his feet again, hurling the nearest object against the wall where it shattered. "Those self-righteous bastards stole my wings and now they're using it as an excuse to kill?"
That was not the argument Dan was prepared for.
"This is your fault!" Lucifer snarled, looking skyward. "This is on you, not me!"
Was he…yelling at God?
Lucifer kicked the coffee table with surprising force, cracking it in half. "How do they always get it wrong? I don't want Souls, I don't want sacrifices! I hate when people use me as an excuse! I hate when you humans try and pin all your evil on me! I am not evil, I punish evil!"
"What if that's the point?" Dan asked suddenly. The thought was so out of the blue, he surprised more than just Lucifer, who turned smoldering eyes on him.
"What did you say?" Lucifer snapped. His voice crackled, alternating between the suave British accent and the voice of the Beast.
"What if they're trying to piss you off?" Dan said. "What if that's just another way of trying to prove you are who they think you are? This cult…this Order of Samael…what if they're trying to prove that that is exactly who you are? Think about it – LA has doomsday prophets and soapbox preachers on every corner. Everyone is always claiming the world is ending. What if these people are trying to prove it by proving that the Devil walks amongst us?"
"Then they're doing a pretty bloody good job – they're good enough at sigils and bindings that they can trap me, which means that they've probably figured out shielding as well – which would explain why Maze can't find hide nor feather of my wings. Something like them, they would radiate power. You couldn't hide it without a shield or a repelling sigil."
Before Dan could push further, his phone rang, interrupting any further questioning. "Yeah?" he answered without looking at the caller ID. "Shit. Seriously? Yeah. Okay. I'm on my way." As he hung up, he glanced over at Lucifer. "That's Chloe. Good news and bad news."
"What's the bad news?" Lucifer asked curiously.
"They found a body."
Lucifer frowned. "There's good news to that? How incredibly morbid of you, Detective. I might actually have to rethink working with you instead of Detective Decker."
"It means more evidence – it's another sacrifice."
So please...tell me if the mystery part is working for you guys. I am a terrible, awful judge of it. I'm the person who watches 18 seconds of a murder mystery show (or reads one chapter in a mystery book) and knows Whodunnit. Am I being too obvious? Oblivious? Beating a dead horse? Seriously. Let me know if it's good or bad so I know if I need to change it or it's working out for you.
