Linda sat in her office, diligently reviewing her patients' files while adding new ones. Just moments ago, her client Lanna had left, visibly distraught and tearful. Linda sensed that something was deeply troubling her, but Lanna avoided eye contact throughout the session, making it difficult to make any progress.
Lanna finally mustered the courage to speak, her voice trembling, "Well, I had fallen asleep on the couch upstairs, and then my stepmom, Laura, came to wake me up. I woke up terrified, shaking uncontrollably, and I can't understand why." Her gaze remained fixed anywhere but on Linda.
Linda felt the weight of her client's pain. Lanna's refusal to communicate and her loss of appetite were concerning signs, potentially leading her into a state of depression. It was crucial to help her open up and address the underlying issues.
Suddenly, a series of knocks on the door startled Linda, but it was only Lucifer. Despite his disheveled hair and perfectly buttoned suit, it was clear that something was amiss. Today was different, and he seemed to acknowledge it.
"Doctor, I recognize that I may have been acting theatrically. I seem to be regressing, much like I did after Uriel... Well, you know," Lucifer confessed, his hands displaying a slight tremor. Reluctantly, he had come to terms with the fact that he needed to discuss his troubles.
Lucifer's words triggered vivid flashbacks of the tragic event where he had stabbed his own brother. The memories had intensified in recent days, resurfacing as he tried to sleep. Nightmares plagued him, causing his hands to tremble uncontrollably and his forehead to be drenched in sweat. Desperate to find solace, he focused on his breathing but found it nearly impossible. The images of the blade, Maze, and the prayer to Uriel relentlessly haunted his mind whenever he closed his eyes.
Within his own universe, he was forced to relive every agonizing detail of the fight with Uriel, leaving no room for escape from his recurring flashbacks. The most recent episode had occurred only an hour ago, allowing him a brief respite to calm his racing heart and steady his trembling hands.
"Lucifer, are you alright?" Linda inquired, concerned by his prolonged silence. He had been lost in his thoughts until her voice snapped him back to the present.
Honesty had always been a part of Lucifer's character, one that he feared losing along with everything else he had already sacrificed. Avoiding her question, he took a seat on the small couch, trying to find some semblance of comfort.
"Do you remember my angelic brother, Uriel?" Lucifer finally responded, sidestepping the inquiry. He struggled to hold back his emotions, his attempt at a forced but subdued laugh conveying his internal turmoil. "When I killed the demon, it felt wrong. Killing another being, regardless of what it was, human or not, it never sits right with me. I had only done it twice before, and now I'm haunted by Uriel's death... and I can't make it stop."
Linda vividly recalled Lucifer's behavior after he had killed his brother years ago, but the intensity of his current memories seemed even more overwhelming. Determined to understand the depths of his torment, she gently probed, "Can you describe these flashbacks to me? I need to grasp what you're experiencing."
"It happens when I fall asleep. I'm plagued by these recurring nightmares about Uriel's death and the fateful fight with him. The guilt weighs heavily on me. Perhaps I could've prevented it or sought help from dear old Dad," he muttered with disgust. The Devil himself had never been so desperate as when he prayed to his Father, promising to be the son God had always desired in exchange for saving Chloe from Malcolm and the twisted part of himself that emerged when the plug was pulled. He couldn't help but feel betrayed by Amenadiel, who had raised him without a care for the lives lost or the multitude of lies told along the way.
"But it's his death that haunts me the most, overshadowing everything else that came before or after," Lucifer confessed.
The Doctor simply nodded, understanding the weight of his words, and they continued their therapy session.