Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Lucifer the TV show; I'm just borrowing them for a while.

A/N:

The Archangel Raphael comes down from heaven to save the day. Unfortunately, things don't all go his way.

Asherah has thrown some cold water on his healing fire, and it doesn't work on Lucifer. In fact, it doesn't work at all. It seems she's interfering with Raphael's powers.

He must heal Lucifer soon. Otherwise, his life could hang in the balance.

Raphael faces emotions that he's never had to experience before. Will he have the strength and resolve to get his powers back.

As always, I appreciate your feedback and reviews.

Chapter 14: Raphael To The Rescue

Hello Raphael—It's Been A While…

Swirling beams of energy gather along the West wall of the apartment, directly behind Amenadiel. He's still reeling from the emotional roller coaster ride of the past few days. Pangs of guilt continue to eat away at him. Lucifer has re-injured his wing, and it is bleeding out all over the bed, he's still not out of the woods—mentally or physically. Amenadiel's spirits are at an all-time low as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. He's starting to feel burned out.

All of a sudden, his angelic radar picks up a signal. Amenadiel's spirits lift from the doldrums. His eyes crinkle with glee, as he cracks a broad, toothy grin when he senses the familiar energy of Raphael about to materialize.

The dark angel turns around on his heels, in time to see an ephemeral flash of light emanating from a dancing chrome green orb. As it grows brighter and brighter, the ball of green flame disappears into the center of the pendant that hangs around Raphael's neck. Millennia have come and gone since the healing angel's last visit to earth. Perhaps, that is why he gags when he gulps his first breath of smoggy L.A. air, as he fully transforms into his terrestrial manifestation. Appearing directly in front of Amenadiel, Raphael answers, "Yes, brother, it has been—much too long."

The first impression of Raphael is one of self-confidence, stability, and balance. In the current vernacular, he would be considered to be: centered. He is tall, but not imposingly so, his lithe body is lean and lightly muscled. Wavy sienna tresses fall freely to his shoulders, framing his lichen-green eyes which glimmer gossamer gray. He has a handsome, evenly featured face, with a beatific smile that is disarmingly charming. The angel wears a long, hooded, viridian flannel tunic over gray cotton chamois pants. The soft calming colors of his clothes appear in contrast to his brilliant, white-gold, wings. Around his neck, hangs a silver pendant engraved with ancient celestial symbols from the Pentacle of Solomon; at its center, sits a healing stone of turquoise.

"You are a sight for sore eyes!" He says his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I like your new look."

"Yes," Raphael smiles back, "My last guise made me look positively archaic. You know: the armor and sandals get up, screamed…Old Testament. And that unwieldy caduceus staff, I used to haul around, seriously cramped my style. Besides, I hated wearing that armor, because it was always so—drafty!

I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, Amenadiel, I know you were praying to me, and that Lucifer went through a few tough times, but Michael would not let me come down to help our brother. He threatened to do to me, what Asherah did to Lucifer. Imagine that! But I am here now, so let's make the best of it."

"Michael threatened to rip off your wings?" Amenadiel scoffs, "he's gone off the deep end—hasn't he? Does he know you are here?"

"No, he has no idea that I am here, and I want to keep it that way. He disappeared a few days ago, right after Father saved Lucifer from suffocating to death. Michael's off brooding somewhere, probably on some forsaken lost planet or star. So, I took the opportunity to come down before he gets back."

"Well then, we better work fast before he finds you missing. We wouldn't want anything to happen to those beautiful wings of yours."

A Wing And A Prayer

Lucifer suffers from fits of pain that make him contort his injured wing away from the mattress. Drugged halfway to oblivion, his body twitches during a restless sleep. Blood oozes from his wound and spreads out like a bright red shadow across the bedding. Standing over his brother, Raphael cocks his head to one side as he rubs his hand over his cheek. A look of concern drags his face down, "He looks so frail like he could snap in two like a twig. Let's turn him over so that I can get a look at his wing Amenadiel, let's be gentle with him."

After careful observation and some prodding around, Raphael comes up with a diagnosis. "I'm impressed," he gushes, "I can't believe that a human doctor was able to treat Lucifer's wings successfully. Whoever he was, he did a commendable job stitching him up. These sutures are impeccable."

Amenadiel rolls his eyes, "yes, the doctor who made the "house call" is brilliant, but he is also a high functioning alcoholic and a drug abuser. He was drunk and stoned when he worked on Lucifer."

"Regardless, brother, he fixed Luci's wings. Even if he achieved it while being under the influence, that is still an impressive feat in my book."

Raphael has barely touched Lucifer's wound when he winces and cries out in pain. Shaking his head in disbelief, Raphael sighs, "I don't know how he was able to fly at all, his wings have just begun to mature, let alone, heal. He's re-opened some of the stitches from the wound that is causing him to bleed out.

The spot that was sewn up is a critical juncture where the nerves and arteries flow from the body out to the wings. It's also the sweet spot for where the main wing bone juts out from the scapula. These new wings of his have not yet solidified, and they can easily be broken or even ripped from him: like Asherah did in her attack. I can only imagine how painful that must have been for him to endure. It's a wonder he survived that kind of trauma to his wings—at all. An angel rarely survives that kind of injury. It is usually, a long, slow, death sentence. We don't have a precedent here, as Father has never restored wings on a mature angel before. We are in uncharted territory in that respect."

Raphael continues with his assessment, "I can feel that his wings are still in their soft developmental stage. They are more like cartilage than bone at this point."

"In your opinion," brother, "how long do you think they will need to mature?"

"I would venture to say, in about a month. But since Lucifer has already had them for over a week now, three more weeks would be my guess."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Amenadiel nods his head in approval, "that shouldn't be a problem since he will be knocked out from the Doctor's sleep cure, for at least that long."

Laughing to himself, Raphael gives his brother a friendly pat on the back, "good, so you won't have to worry about him escaping and flying about until his wings have matured."

"Well, Raphe, we are talking about Lucifer. Frankly, I'm hoping that all of the narcotics we're pumping into him, will do their job and keep him stoned enough to prevent him from going anywhere soon."

"Taking care of our brother is proving to be quite a handful for you," eh, Amenadiel, "even for such a big bad warrior as yourself?"

"That is an understatement," Raphe. Amenadiel cracks up laughing, "you have no idea."

"But you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?"

Not able to look Raphael in the eye, Amenadiel looks down at the floor, "No, I have been selfish and self-absorbed, and Lucifer has suffered greatly as a result. I am so ashamed of my actions. The things I did to push my agenda of getting him back to hell were..."

"Yes, let's see. First, you stole Luci's wings. That only cost two humans their lives. And then, you plucked a deranged soul from the fires of hell to bring him back to life to murder your brother—and you almost succeeded! Oh, and let's not forget about sleeping with the demon." He smiles. "Oh, yes," Amenadiel, "your earthly transgressions have earned you quite the reputation. We've been watching you for some time now."

Wincing at his brother's words, Amenadiel swallows hard, "We?" he chokes out.

"Why yes, following Lucifer's exploits on earth is like the best reality show ever."

"Um, who is watching? Don't you all have better things to do with your time."

"Who is watching you ask? Why all of us—and Father too, of course."

"Why was I never privy to this when I was back home?"

"Because only the archangels, cherubs, and seraphim that surround Father's throne, are allowed to look in with him. Sorry brother, but warrior angels are not privy to observe what happens in the earthly realm."

"Much to Michael's consternation, Father still loves Lucifer. Despite all of the bad blood between the two, he is still his favorite son: nothing, seems to be able to change that. Father still cares about Lucifer, so much so, that he continues to keep a close watch over him.

You would think, after all of the eternities that have gone by, that perhaps, Michael would have mellowed out by now. Unfortunately, he only gets angrier and angrier. He is more obsessed than ever, about killing Lucifer. But enough, about Michael. He's not worth the attention we are heaping on him."

Lucifer, on the other hand, is in dire need of our attention, "look how he suffers—let's do something about that." Raphael folds his hands over his brother and bows his head in prayer. As he prays, his hands take on a bright green glow. Placing the palms of his hands with fingers outstretched, directly down over the open wound, he allows the healing rays to touch down on Lucifer's wing.

Lucifer gasps sharply, twisting away from Raphael, he cries out in pain. Despite the healing angel's gentle touch, even the slightest pressure feels like a knife stabbing at his back.

Amenadiel watches in amazement as Raphael lifts his hands slightly and waves them over the wound and the entire wing. Healing green light rays emit from his fingers; the bright green light gathers over Lucifer's wing and sparkles for a few minutes until it fades. All traces of the wound and the old scars on his back, disappear, in their place, a new layer of perfectly smooth skin looks like the injury never happened.

Looking at his handiwork, Raphael allows himself a small smile—he is pleased with the outcome. Coming down from the adrenaline of the effort, he tries to rub away the tightness in his neck, "that went well, now Amenadiel, could you please give me a hand turning him over?"

As Raphael and Amenadiel turn Lucifer over on his back, he wakes up. Feeling groggy from the meds, Lucifer begins to move his shoulder blades stiffly, when he notices that his wings are free of the throbbing pain he'd been experiencing. Relief, he thinks, as he sinks back into the pillow.

"Amenadiel," he says, smiling as his eyes flutter open. But, it is not the face of Amenadiel who greets him. It is his long-lost brother, who he hasn't seen since his fall from heaven. "Raphael, is that you?" His eyes widen in disbelief. He can barely contain his happiness. Gazing back at Raphael with a beaming smile, Lucifer asks, "Raphe was it you that fixed my wings just now?"

Leaning over his brother, Raphael locks eyes with Lucifer for the first time. Laugh lines form at the corners of his eyes, as he smiles at him, "yes, Luci, I have fixed them. Don't you dare try to fly with them before they have the chance to heal. Because I'm not coming back down here to repair you again!"

In a pure state of joy, Lucifer pulls Raphael into a hug, "It's been an eternity since I've seen you brother. I thought that Michael had poisoned you against me and that you wanted nothing to do with me."

Pulling back from Lucifer's hug, "who told you that?" Raphael demanded.

"No one actually, I just couldn't help imagining you betraying our bully of a brother over me."

"I hadn't considered crossing him until you became the victim of a vicious and unfair attack by Asherah. I know you were the last one to see her before you locked her up in hell all of those years ago. However, we all participated in pushing her down to you, during that ill-fated intervention, Father had us carry out. All of us played a role in her imprisonment. You were there, Amenadiel, were you not? I don't know why she would vent it all out on you, Luci. Why did she not take some of it out on Amenadiel too?"

"It seems she has a special vendetta against you, brother," Raphael mocks.

"Yes, her behavior towards me is quite unpredictable." Lucifer remarks as he runs his hand over the stubble on his chin, "one moment she loves me and the next moment, she hates me and wants to extinguish me from the universe."

"Women" Amenadiel shakes his head.

"Goddesses," Lucifer adds.

"Listen to you two, finishing each other's sentences, like an old married couple. See what being down on earth so long has done to you both," Raphael laughs.

"At least we aren't under Michael's thumb down here," Amenadiel retorts defensively.

Breaking the growing edginess in the air, Raphael teases, "Don't we sound like a trio of cackling hens!"

"Now, Lucifer, let's look at those other nasty injuries you have."

"What injuries? I'm doing just fine," Lucifer deflects. Yawning, he stretches and lies back down into the pillow. Ignoring Raphael, he shuts his eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep.

Raphael isn't having it. He pulls up Lucifer's shirt to reveal a huge dark purple bruise on his lower right abdomen that had grown exponentially over the last day. "Oh, so what is this? Do you mean to tell me that that this is a minor boo-boo?"

Pressing his hand onto the bruise, the healing angel, makes Lucifer cry out, "Ow! That bloody hurts!" Sorry brother, I don't mean to hurt you, but I must do some poking around to diagnose the problem. "One of your broken ribs has lacerated your liver and this giant bruise here, is as a result of all the internal bleeding going on. Lucifer, this is severe, it could kill you."

Still trying to downplay the severity of his injury, Lucifer dismisses Raphael's diagnosis. "Well, it wasn't that big of a deal just a few hours ago, it was quite small and hardly painful back then."

Puzzled, Raphael quizzes Lucifer, "I thought Father took care of all of this when he spared you your life the other day."

"It seemed like it was all taken care of, but then yesterday, it all started hurting again. Could I have injured myself crashing into the window at Lux, or smacking into the wall at Doctor Linda's?"

"If your injuries had all been healed by Father, then there would be no trace of them left. How do the same injuries suddenly return?

At that moment, Amenadiel, recalls Lucifer babbling on about running into Asherah at Lux, "Luci, did you have another confrontation with her?"

Renewed feelings of fear grip Lucifer as he recalls his last encounter with the goddess. "Yes…Amenadiel, I think I did. At first, I figured she was just another hallucination, but as she pinned me up against the wall, she assured me that she was indeed—real. In a matter of seconds, she landed several hard hits against my chest and gut, and I felt my ribs crack all over again. Somehow, I managed to push her off of me, and I threw her against a wall. Lucifer ran his hand over his head, I…I, can't remember what happened next."

As he Looks up to the heavens, Raphael's head tilts back, giving a half shrug; he frowns, "Father, give me strength. Don't worry brother; this will be an easy fix. His frown melting into a tender smile, Raphael places a reassuring hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "This is going to hurt—but only for a moment until I can heal your injury. Understood?"

"If this is the last of the prodding and poking of me? Then yes, I understand it's going to hurt initially." Turning his head away from his brother, Lucifer braces himself.

Raphael's eyes, begin to shine with an inner light, as he prepares himself to deliver his healing fire to Lucifer. Rubbing his hands together until they are warm, so warm, that they glow from the green healing light that flows from his fingers. The angel presses his palms down onto the bruise over Lucifer's lacerated liver and holds them there for a few minutes.

Lucifer cries out in pain and then tries to hold it all in.

Lifting his hands away from the bruise, Raphael continues to spread his healing rays over all of the remaining injuries. Suddenly, Lucifer screams in pain. "Stop, please, stop, this is not working. The pain is unbearable," he moans.

"Not working?" How can that be, as the angel abruptly pulls his hands away from his brother? Raphael is stunned.

Pacing the room, Amenadiel feels helpless. How could Raphael's healing fire go wrong?

Lucifer flinched away from Raphael. Pain shot through him like a flaming arrow. His eyes opened wide with fear. "Raphe, are you trying to kill me?" He cries while gasping for breath, "Did Michael send you down here to finish me off?"

Lucifer started to hyperventilate as he looked up at Raphael, terror filled his eyes; panic crept back into his mind. Thankfully, he passes out.

Amenadiel sidles up behind Raphael and whispers angrily into his ear, "what are you doing? He's not supposed to be stressed out at all. Did you know he suffered an emotional breakdown less than twenty-four hours ago?"

The angel turned away from Lucifer; his shoulders rolled forward and his troubled gaze aimed at the ground, Raphael felt emotions he'd never experienced before doubt and fear. The usually confident Angel had never once doubted himself and his ability to heal. There was never any question about his powers. For the first time in his existence, he felt fear. Some unknown force was usurping his powers. That had to be the only way a routine healing could go so horribly wrong.

Failure is not an option, especially when it comes to family. Raphael is devastated that he let Lucifer down. Now he fears that he has made his brother's situation worse by raining down stress on his already emotionally fragile state.

A strange tingling feeling comes over the angel like a force was sucking away his powers. He held his hands outstretched before him and tried to summon his healing force—but nothing happened. The green healing flame did not appear. Raphael's eyes widen with terror as he looks up to the heavens. Father, he screams, Why? What have I done to deserve this? Are you angry with me for trying to help Lucifer?

Raphael is met with God's standard answer: resounding silence.