LUCIFER:
Stepping smoothly into the elevator I turn to watch the doors slide shut before finally letting out the breath I hadn't fully realized I had been holding. Closing my eyes I let my head fall back and my shoulders drop as the car climbs upwards, trying to ignore the oddly familiar itch that was pulling at my back. When the doors finally opened, I step out into the Penthouse, moving automatically towards the bar to pour a drink, downing it, then refilling the glass and quickly emptying it again. Setting the glass down I rolled my shoulders again, willing the phantom sensations away. Despite knowing in the back of my head that just scotch wouldn't fix this particular problem, I can't help the rage that crashes over me in a wave, not even fully aware of my own hand snatching up the glass from the bar and propelling it across the room to collide with the glass of the closed balcony doors. Letting out a shout with my effort, I watch as the glass shatters apart sending shards flying in all directions, catching the dim light in tiny flashes as they fall to the ground.
Steeling myself and stepping around the bar, I make my way up the steps and into my closet. Jerking open a drawer, my fingers push various bottles and baggies around until I locate what I'm looking for. Turning towards the table in the center of the room I make quick work of depositing the powder onto the surface, arranging it into three neat lines, pausing only for a moment before swooping down to make them disappear just as quickly. Straightening, I start to slip out of my jacket, letting the buzz crawl through my body as I let it and my shirt fall unceremoniously to the floor.
It's still there. The pressure.
Another line. And another.
A small growl vibrates in the back of my throat as the pressure builds.
Snatching up the ornate case sitting on the far end of the table I make my way into the bathroom.
Setting my palms on the cool marble on either side of where I placed the small box, I finally let my eyes catch my reflection in the mirror, staring back into my own blown pupils, almost reconsidering for a moment. Narrowing my eyes at myself I straighten again, opening the case to grab the oddly warm metal of Maze's curved blade, shrugging my shoulders again, this time not resisting the pressing at my shoulder blades.
My wings snap open with a burst of air, spanning the entire room, the feathers at the very tips bending against the far wall at either side. Letting my gaze land on the mirror again I feel nearly sick as I take in the walls of white reflected behind me.
"No." I whisper softly to my reflection, "This is /not/ who I am anymore." I was angry, but the back of my mind also registers the small hint of hurt in my voice. Maybe if I was still this person she could love me? Certainly knowledge of the Devine would be shocking enough to any human, but I let myself consider for a moment how much easier it would be for her to find out that her partner was an Angel, something good and pure, like her, than the monster that I truly was.
Blinking quickly to stop the hot pricks at the edges of my eyes I shake my head again, willing my hand not to tremble as reach behind my back, resting the sharp blade in the crook where wing meets skin. Closing my eyes and drawing in a deep breath I don't hesitate as I pull the blade up and over, neatly dividing myself, good and evil, unable to stop a cry of pain as the sharp edge slices easily through the layers of skin and muscle. Warm blood slides down my back and I hear my wing land on the tile with a more distant thud than I was expecting. I catch myself against the counter, my knees going weak for a moment at the bolt of pain.
My entire body is shaking now as I move the blade to my other hand, trying to quiet the tiny fleeting thought of self-preservation telling me to stop, not entirely sure I can actually bring myself to finish the job. It was one thing when Maze cut them off the first time, I was different then, I didn't /feel/ the way I do now. Cursing at myself I lift an unsteady arm to reach towards my back, sliding the curved blade against my skin as I had on the other side, but finding myself unable to will my hand to move. An eerie darkness is beginning to pull at the edges of my vision and I'm suddenly overcome with a rush of dizziness. Before I can steady myself again I hear it….
"Lucifer!" It's a gasp and a cry at the same time, but also so quiet and far away.
Startled, I turn quickly, forgetting everything in a split second when I hear her voice. But the angle of my arm and the way my wing catches in the too small space as I instinctively turn to find her causes my hand to pull the blade up, slicing almost entirely though the bridge that connects the wing to my back.
"AAHHH!" I hear my voice reverberate off the tile and glass, amplifying it more, and somewhere faintly I can barely see her, the way she jumps when I scream. Her hands covering her mouth, I meet her eyes for only a second, seeing the horror of the scene reflected back to me, before the darkness pulls me under.
CHLOE:
"Lucifer?" My voice seems small somehow, in the vast emptiness of the Penthouse as I step off the elevator. I look around and find the room empty, but something doesn't feel right. I quickly notice the spray of glass on the floor by the balcony, the only thing out of place. Despite the silence I know he's here… I can feel it.
Stepping cautiously further into the room I lean over to look into the bedroom, mostly dark but with a faint glow coming from the hallway. I hesitate, wanting to find him, but also unsure if I should just let myself wonder through his house. Sure, I've been here plenty of times, but only ever in the main living area, save for the single drunken night that landed me in his bed. Before I can call out for him again I hear a strange noise come from the direction of the light. Slowly I cross the room, climbing the two steps and turning the corner, curious. Before I can take more than two steps down the hall I hear him, the sharp cry of pain causing a sense of dread to wash over me.
Reaching the end of the small hallway I peer into the open bathroom door, and my stomach drops at the sight, although my mind isn't fully able to comprehend what I'm seeing.
He is bent over the counter, smears of scarlet standing out against the almost glowing brightness of his… wing? How? I notice another glowing wing, this one laying on the floor covered in more blood. I watch in horror as he stretches his arm up behind himself, Maze's blade in hand, lowering it to where the other wing (again, what!?) is still connected to him. Before I can stop myself, his name is out of my mouth… Everything next happens so fast, yet in slow motion at the same time. He jumps at the sound of my voice, turning quickly in my direction, but suddenly he's screaming and there's more blood.
The wing still protruding from his back bends against the wall when he turns, the odd angle causing the blade already resting at the base to push through as he turned suddenly. Pain registering on his face he lets out a scream that makes me jump this time. Frozen to the spot I catch his eyes, nearly black, for only a moment before he crumples to the ground.
Instinct pulling me towards him I fall to my knees, trying to gather his large frame against me as I reach for I towel from the counter and pressing it against the open wound on his back to try to stop the bleeding.
"Lucifer, /what/ are you doing?!" I ask, but a look at this face tells me the pain really did knock him out. 'Maybe its better that way' I think, letting my eyes fall back to the stained towel I was holding against his back. Gently I peel the cloth away, my stomach tightening into knots as I take in the mangled, angry flesh underneath before the other wing finally catches my eye. The blade didn't quite sever it, the downy feathers fanned out behind him on the floor, twitching slightly in different spots.
I stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, his head situated in my lap and a pile of blood-soaked towels next to us. My brain was a windstorm of chaos, unable to truly process what was happening. As I tried my best to clean him up I noticed that the wound on the right was the same shape and size as the scars I had seen on his back all those years ago. I couldn't help but let my fingers ghost along the edge of the open skin, hearing his casual voice in my head "Oh, that's where I cut my wings off." He had told me.
At the time I had dismissed his comment, like so many others. But now my world was shifted, not quite upright, as I looked down at him, watching his chest to be sure he was still breathing. My eyes were drawn to his back again, this time daring to examine where the left wing was still barely attached to him. I brought my fingers up to touch the delicate appendage for the first time, finding a space without blood to test the feel of the soft feathers. It twitched under my touch and I pulled my hand back quicky, not wanting to cause him any more pain. Though, to have done this to himself… what kind of pain was he already in? And how could I not have noticed?
Tears filling my eyes I do my best to pull him closer, leaning to rest my head against his, "I'm so sorry Lucifer," I whisper, "I….. I didn't know."