"You know, if you stop touching it, it will probably stop hurting," Dan said, flipping through a parenting magazine that predated Trixie.
"What would you know?" Lucifer grumbled, rubbing at his still aching ears. Well, he'd stopped touching it when he realized just how much direct contact actually hurt, but that didn't stop the idle habit of massaging just behind them.
Dan snorted, not even bothering to look up. "I've been human for over thirty years. I think my experience surpasses yours on this particular subject."
They were stuck waiting at the hospital – much to Lucifer's annoyance, but Chloe wasn't backing down. Her 'mom face' seemed to worked better on the Lord of Hell than it did Trixie, which Dan vowed never to let Morningstar live down.
Despite numerous protests that he was fine, Chloe hadn't let him avoid the ambulance ride, or the battery of tests that the hospital wanted to run after she described his symptoms, and his previous experience with unexplained bleeding. Now the hospital staff was talking possibility of hemophilia or a possible pathogen that no one had ever heard of.
"I could just check myself out, you know," Lucifer protested.
"You want to tell Chloe that? Be my guest. But I don't actually want to need to be hospitalized. But if you have some other way of…making it better or whatever, go right ahead."
Lucifer scowled momentarily before popping his jaw again, trying to alleviate what felt like Swimmer's Ear. "I didn't realize people could use names as focusing sigils or I wouldn't have stood so close."
Dan glanced over the top of the magazine. "So what exactly happened?"
"What?" Lucifer asked, again rubbing at his ear. "You mumble something fierce, did you know that?"
Dan rolled his eyes, and really wished that Chloe believed Lucifer about his identity. It wasn't necessarily that he minded having to be the one that Lucifer had to explain what actually happened to. It was just aggravating that he now was the only one on both sides of the field – trying to translate Lucifer's supernatural issues into a believable real world counterpart to Chloe.
"I asked what happened?" he repeated, enunciating carefully and louder than necessary.
"Near as I can tell?" Lucifer grumbled. "Whoever keeps trying to call me out is upping their game. They're taking things very literally, and if this is the side effect, I really wish they would knock it off. I heard those words before, when we were in the church. But those weren't nearly as loud, and I only heard them once. And there wasn't anything sinister about them."
"So the sigils…you said they were used as a focusing symbol? How does that work?"
Lucifer sighed, swinging his long legs over the side of the exam table. "Focusing sigils work the same way as everything else. The more belief behind it, the more powerful they are. The binding sigil at the other scene – it worked because someone believed it would. Focusing sigils are for things like prayers or even curses. The more people that say them, the more that believe them, the stronger they are."
Dan frowned. "Ears bleeding are a side effect of praying?" He suddenly felt mildly guilty over every prayer he'd ever said. "No wonder no one ever answers."
"No, no, no…not like that. From what my brothers describe, prayers are usually like someone whispering in your ear. Not screaming through ten megaphones with a direct line into one's brain."
"So the focusing sigils…weaponized prayers?" Dan asked. "Are these people trying to kill you or talk to you?"
Lucifer frowned. "No idea. Even if it was the latter, I'm beginning to fear I'm not going to survive the conversation."
Dan set the magazine down, clasping his hands together as he leaned forwards. He'd drawn the short straw for keeping an eye on Lucifer at the hospital while Chloe went to check on Trixie at home. He suspected it had just as much to do with the fact that she thought Lucifer had opened up to him instead of her about a traumatic past, and she was hoping Dan would be more successful at getting a straight answer from the club owner.
"Okay, so what do you think is going on? Let's just go with hypotheticals for the moment – someone has obviously already figured out that you're Lucifer. They also have to know you were once Samael – how would someone know that? You don't seem all that eager to talk about that half of your life, so how would they ever make the connection?"
Lucifer shrugged absently. "It's not that it's not written anywhere. It's just…not mentioned."
"Fine. But who do you know directly that knows who you are?" Dan paused. "Or who you were?"
Lucifer almost shrugged again before he stopped mid motion. "Detective Decker obviously knows, but I'm not entirely sure how she found out about it. She asked me weeks ago – before my wings went missing, and she showed me a scrap of paper with my old name on it. I'm not sure how she found it out, but she did. And someone told Doctor Linda about –" Lucifer stopped mid-sentence. "Sonofabitch."
"What…?" Dan barely managed to ask before there was a sudden burst of air, as if someone had left the windows open during a hurricane, and there was a third person in the room. "the hell?"
The new person looked sort of like Lucifer, in so far as they shared the same physical attributes – dark hair, pale skin and narrow features. Probably the largest difference was the choice in clothing. Whereas Dan had never seen Lucifer outside of a suit that cost more than his car, the new one looked like he'd been pulled from a surfer magazine cover.
Hell, he was pretty sure that was sand on his feet.
"I didn't call for you," Lucifer snapped, sliding off the exam table. He tilted slightly to one side as his equilibrium sorted itself and he grabbed onto the table for balance. "I distinctly called for our younger, soon to be dead brother."
"And that would be the reason why I came instead of him," the younger man said. "You know how our Father frowns on fratricide."
"Gabriel, I called for Amenadiel for a reason," Lucifer growled. "He's been a rather naughty fellow, and if you'll recall, Father put me in charge of punishment."
"Amenadiel apologizes that he can't be here, but he says he's busy keeping an eye on your abdicated throne. He would also like to point out that you wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't left in the first place. He also says something very impolite that I'm not repeating."
"Any other messages, dear brother?"
"Yeah. Michael says stop trying to get yourself killed. If you're so eager to die, he can come up with something much faster that doesn't put the rest of us in jeopardy," Gabriel said, dropping into one of the waiting chairs. He kicked his bare feet up on to the table, using his toes to brush the sand off them.
Gabriel, presumably, glanced over at Dan, and gave a short half wave with a waggle of fingers.
"Hello," he said cheerfully. He turned back to Lucifer and jerked his chin to indicate Dan. "I take it from the lack of surprise at seeing me just appear out of nowhere you've explained to him the way of things?"
Lucifer rolled his eyes, gesturing between Dan and Gabriel. "Daniel Espinoza, Gabriel the Archangel. Gabe, Dan. Happy? Introductions made. Do you have anything useful or not?"
Gabriel sighed, staring at his toes as he wiggled them to and fro. "You really dug yourself into a hole this time, brother. I hope your friend here is really onboard with helping you, because we can't."
Lucifer's jaw dropped momentarily, as did Dan's, but Lucifer recovered much quicker. His entire face shuttered, clenching his jaw before he turned away. "Of course you wouldn't."
Gabriel snapped his fingers, gray eyes flashing. "Not the word I used, brother. I didn't say 'won't' I said 'can't'. We can't help you. Trust me, Michael is fully prepared for Father to bring back the Old Testament version of dealing with problems, but you know the rules. We can't harm humans. And guess what you picked a fight with?"
Lucifer didn't look at all pacified by the explanation. Instead, he hopped back on the bed, crossing his arms irritably.
Dan held up a tentative hand. "Um, question from the new guy – what do you mean you can't harm people? I've seen him throw people through glass. Pretty sure Chloe said he drove a couple people insane."
Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. "That's a technicality. I should say we can't kill anyone. No one can. Not even Lucifer – not anymore, anyway. But seriously – whoever these people are, they know exactly what they're doing. If you know what's good for you, stop poking around. Let your pet humans deal with this, and keep your head down for once in your existence."
Lucifer bristled, and Dan could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as the temperature steadily started to climb.
"Dearest brother," Lucifer said through gritted teeth. "These people are killing in my name. They attacked me in my home. They are trying to call upon the wrath of our Father, and your solution is for me to lay low? Do tell, brother – where do we draw the line? When the victims are no longer part of their cult? When they start picking truly innocent bystanders? How about when it's not just one at a time? What if next time they try to get my attention, it's a church? What happens then?"
Gabriel didn't look even remotely apologetic. Instead, his face darkened, and the temperature that had been climbing towards eighty started to inch back down.
Dan had a sudden insane desire for popcorn to watch this drama.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Lucifer. People die. That's what they do. Father will forgive them their trespasses against each other like He always does. But what do you think will happen if something happens to you? If you thought Egypt had it bad, how do you think Los Angeles will fare if Father decides it's responsible for the death of His favorite son? You may not be our Father's sword anymore, but the Horsemen can still carry out His demands. Are you prepared to let all those innocents that you just proclaimed to care about suffer? Because that's exactly what's going to happen. Let the humans figure this out, and stay away from any more scenes!"
And in three quick and easy steps, Lucifer was across the room, shoving the table to one side and knocking Gabriel over backwards still in the chair, pinning him to the floor with one foot on his chest as Dan scrambled to get out of the way.
"In. My. Home, Gabriel. When I refused to help the detectives anymore, they didn't leave me be – they came after me in my home. They have my wings, brother. You've seen the madness they inspire. They're not going to let this drop. And while you may be okay with the larger picture of things, I'm not. If they want God's Poison so bloody badly, who am I to deny them?"
Instead of getting angry, Gabriel looked annoyed. "Fine, Lucifer. But if you take up Samael's duties again, then what?"
Lucifer's face froze, mid snarl, faltering.
"If you go back, then what?" Gabriel pushed. "You hated being Samael. No matter how miserable you are in Hell, you never hated it as much as you hated home. You think Father is going to give you the same chance twice?"
When Lucifer didn't answer, Gabriel pressed further. "Let's pretend like this message isn't from Father. Let's just say it's from me. I don't want you to die. Heavenly war aside, I don't want you dead, which is how you're going to wind up."
"Your concern is noted," Lucifer growled. "And completely ignored."
"Lucifer-" Gabriel began, but Lucifer leaned over, pushing more of his weight onto the foot that held him down.
"No, Gabriel, enough. You and the others – you don't get to ignore me and then tell me what to do. If I didn't obey our Father, do you honestly believe I'm going to obey you? Or anyone else for that matter? If you're not going to help, then stay away. Om?"
Gabriel didn't answer, but in the next instant, he was gone. Lucifer stumbled slightly, grabbing onto the wall as his footrest disappeared.
"Are all of your brothers like that?" Dan asked mildly.
Lucifer sent him a glare that would send most mortals running, but Dan had been married to Chloe.
Lucifer had nothing on her.
"What was he talking about, with you going back to being Samael?" Dan asked, nonplussed.
Lucifer sighed, flopping back onto the exam table like a melodramatic teenager, wincing as he did so as he touched his ear. "Think of Samael as a dormant personality. If I start behaving like him again, then I turn back into him."
"The Angel of Death," Dan clarified. "What's the difference between you then and you now?"
Lucifer gave him a scathing look. "Samael could be argued as being actually evil. I'm not evil. I don't carry out evil acts anymore. I punish people appropriately, and the kicker of it is that I don't actually do anything. Souls in Hell torment themselves, they just give me ideas."
"I guess that's where that creepy mentalist thing comes from, huh?" Dan mused idly. "If you can get someone to tell you their greatest desire, you can turn it around to use it to punish them."
Lucifer made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat.
"Well, personal history aside, I think your brother actually gave me an idea," Dan said. "He said nobody could find these people. If you and Maze can find beacons of the divine, can you find dead zones?"
Lucifer scoffed for a moment before sitting bolt upright, hissing in pain but mostly ignoring it. "You are full of surprises," he said in wonderment. "Call Maze. Tell her to look for a suspiciously void area."
As Dan dug for his phone, he asked, "So if it's dangerous for you, why isn't it dangerous for her? She said something along the lines of very little being able to hurt her because she had friends in high places. I assumed she meant you, but if that's the case, why are you more vulnerable than a demon?"
"She wasn't talking about me. I can't do anything like that. One of those checks and balances rules I never really cared for. Most likely she meant Constantine – an exorcist acquaintance of mine who I sometimes do business with. He took a real shine to Maze, and when I asked he was more than happy to set her up."
"And he can't do the same thing for you?" Dan asked. When Maze picked up the phone, he told her about the void area Lucifer mentioned and before he could say anything else, she'd hung up on him. Presumably on her way to cause some damage.
To be honest, he really didn't want to know.
"Checks and balances," Lucifer said, as if it explained everything, which it really didn't.
However, before he could ask anything further, the waiting room door opened, and a short, matronly looking woman stepped in, looking harried.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mister…" she frowned when she looked at the name on the chart. "Lucifer Morningstar? Seriously? That's your given name?"
Dan tried to smother a laugh at the face Lucifer made and failed miserably.
"Your parents were all sorts of cruel, weren't they?" she said, shaking her head. She pushed her glasses back on her nose as she glanced at the overturned chair and haphazard table. If she cared, she didn't say anything. "Well, I have good news and bad news for you, Mr. Morningstar. The good news is all of your panels came back clean, just like your last ones. No signs of hemophilia, no signs of infection, irritants, or diseases."
She snapped on a pair of nitrile gloves before setting down her clipboard and grabbed the otoscope from off the wall. With a smooth professionalism, she glanced quickly at Lucifer's ears, frowning as she did so. She glanced back at her chart.
"I thought the nurse in here before said you'd ruptured your eardrums," she asked. "They're inflamed, and look like you might have a bad ear infection, but that's it."
"That's what she said," Lucifer amended. "I didn't make any such assessment. I've been trying to check myself out for hours, but my keeper won't let me."
"He's a police consultant, and when he was at a crime scene, he started to complain about a loud, high pitched sound, and his ears started to bleed," Dan explained. "No one else heard anything, and no one else was affected."
The doctor glanced over at Dan, as if noticing him for the first time. "Does he often hear things that others can't?"
"Not usually," Dan said, smiling briefly.
The doctor cocked her head to the side, drumming her fingers against the table. "Did they run you through an MRI last time you were here?"
Lucifer shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of, but I was unconscious most of the time. Shouldn't that be in the chart?"
"It should be, yes, but the chart also said you had a ruptured eardrum, which you obviously don't. I hate to start from scratch, but…" the doctor shrugged, and put the otoscope back, and picked up her stethoscope. "Shirt off."
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I never actually thought I would get tired of women saying that to me."
As he pulled the scrub top over his head, turning slightly because he knew from experience she was going to have to reach his back, both Dan and the doctor inhaled sharply.
Dan knew the scars were there – Chloe had mentioned them before as part of her argument of Lucifer as a past abuse case. But somehow, seeing them and knowing what they were from made them so much worse.
They were old – obviously healed over long ago, but they were huge, stretching almost the entire length of his shoulder blades on either side of his spine. He could see how Chloe thought they were sections of skin that had simply been flayed off. The skin was puckered and zigzagged, but considering what he knew they were, they didn't look like bone and muscle had been cleaved off, too.
"Ouch," was all the doctor said. "What happened here?"
Lucifer opened his mouth, to answer, but caught Dan shaking his head warningly. Instead, the bar owner gave a short, tight smile. "Had a birth mark removed. It was a hack job."
The doctor snorted. "That's putting it mildly. Why don't you just have someone graft them over? This is LA. Plastic surgery is the new black."
"I like the reminder," Lucifer said. He followed her instructions on inhale, exhale, inhale again, growing more irritated by the moment. "Look, we just did this, not a few hours ago. You said there was nothing wrong with me except possibly an ear infection. Couldn't you just hand me antibiotics and send me on my merry way?"
The doctor sighed, shaking her head as she motioned him to put his shirt back on. "Yeah. I don't know what the nurse was thinking. Usually they're better than us docs about diagnosing. I don't know how she would've messed that up. But yeah. Sure. You're good to go, Mr. Morningstar. I'll leave you a script at the pharmacy for antibiotics for your ear and you can go home."
"Finally," Lucifer grumbled.
Dan followed the doctor out so Lucifer could change. Not that the Devil seemed to have issues with personal boundaries, but Dan sure as hell did.
"If he has any other symptoms or reactions, bring him back in," the doctor said. "And I know it's unlikely since both write outs say his symptoms were almost immediate instead of brought on, but if he has anything else go wrong with him, bring him back in while he's experiencing them."
"Any idea what's going on?" Dan asked. He knew, sort of, what the ultimate problem was. There was someone out there who was either trying to bring the Angel of Death back, or they were trying to kill him outright.
The doctor shrugged. "Not really. But people show strange symptoms for strange things. We once had a kid that took us six months to diagnose – we ran every test imaginable. He would get better, he would get worse, nothing seemed to stick. Finally, after he'd lost like eighty pounds and looked like he was a POW refugee, we found out he simultaneously had mono and lyme disease. We had to write a case study for him. So maybe he's got more than one thing going on with him, but by the time we get him – the irritants or whatever it is causing symptoms are gone." The doctor shrugged again. "I've been a doctor all over the world. I've seen some strange cases. Your friend doesn't rank that high, which is a good thing."
Being told that Lucifer Morningstar as a patient wasn't the weirdest thing a doctor saw actually made Dan feel slightly better.
Dan's phone rang, and when he saw it was Chloe he apologized quickly to the doctor who waved him off with a quick reminder to go to the pharmacy before leaving.
"How's Trix?" he asked as soon as he picked up.
Chloe sighed. "She's a little upset that I won't bring her to the hospital to see Lucifer, but I think I managed to pacify her with chocolate cake."
"You know, that's never going to work when she's a teenager."
"Thank god that is a long way off," Chloe said, chuckling. "But how's he doing?"
"Doc just released him. Said he has an ear infection and that's it."
"So what, it was just an infection that burst?" Chloe asked. "Eww."
Actually, that made perfect sense if he didn't know better. It would even explain high pitched noises right before excruciating pain. The voices, not so much, but Chloe seemed strangely accepting of Lucifer's on again off again schizophrenic tendencies.
"Yeah, I guess so. I was gonna drop him off at Lux, leave him with Maze before heading home. You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
"Pick up Chinese. Trixie is demanding egg rolls." He heard her move the phone away from her mouth. "How can someone so tiny eat so much and still be hungry?"
"You have any luck on your end?"
"Actually, yeah. They managed to find an ID on this one. Michael St. John, originally from Minnesota. Went missing a few months ago and his parents put out a missing person's report."
"Any religious affiliation? Signs of distress? Bizarre behavior?" Dan asked.
"Not really. They said he was always a bit of a drifter, never really had much direction in life. They didn't file the report until he'd been gone for almost a month. No signs of mental illness though."
"Still goes back to cult recruiting profile," Dan pointed out. "They even know he was headed for California?"
"They didn't seem shocked, but they also said they weren't exactly sure where he'd gone. But I did find out some similarities between him and Kaitlyn Kincaide. They're both middle children, and they were . Was Lucifer a middle child in the Bible?"
"Depends on what version you read. One says he's the oldest, another says second youngest. Take your pick. You think birth order plays a role in how they're choosing victims?"
He could hear her shrug even over the phone. "I have no idea. Run it past him and see what he thinks. Did you two come up with anything useful?"
"Maybe. You know how he used to have a different name? I'm thinking they're buying into his delusion as much as he does. All this dog and pony show is just them trying to get a rise out of him. This Samael persona, seems like he's a real piece of work. Maybe Lucifer trying to reinvent himself made them mad?"
"Do you think he's going to revert back?" Chloe asked worriedly. "Or go back?"
Dan scoffed. "Uh, no. No, I think you have a better chance of him going back to Hell then you do of him doing anything these guys want. He seems pretty adamant about not being Samael, so take that as you will."
Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. "But he seems okay?"
Dan glanced over his shoulder as he heard the exam room door open, and Lucifer stepped out, adjusting his cuffs. "Yeah, Chloe. He's fine. Quick trip to the front desk, and I'll be home soon. Tell Monkey her favorite Devil says hi."
"I most certainly do not," Lucifer protested.
"I'll see you later," Dan said before hanging up. "You set to go?"
"Unequivocally," he said. "Detective Decker have any insights?"
"She thinks the selection of victims might have something to do with birth order. Are you the middle child or the oldest?"
Lucifer shrugged. "Depends on where you count from. Second oldest is a more apt description."
After they'd picked up the prescription, much to Lucifer's annoyance because he apparently had no intention of taking them, as they were headed for the car, something occurred to Dan.
"Hey…can I ask you something?" he asked.
Lucifer looked mildly startled, as if he didn't expect someone to ask permission to question him. "Sure?"
"What happens if they succeed?" he gestured aimlessly in Lucifer's general direction. "What happens if you go back to being Samael?"
There was that look again. The momentary shut down of emotion as Lucifer's mask slid back into place before he offered a wicked grin that didn't meet his eyes.
"Nothing good, Detective. Nothing good at all."
Without further explanation, he slid into the passenger seat, leaving Dan to wonder how bad it must be for the Devil to be worried about it.
