A knock on her office door interrupted Linda's lunch. She abandoned her partially-made sandwich and checked her watch as she went to open it; she still had seventeen minutes on break. But it wasn't her patient's face she found herself looking at. "Ella," she said, before she was aware she was talking. "What brings you by?"

"My booboo."

Linda frowned slightly; she had the sinking suspicion Ella wasn't about to ask her for a Band-Aid.

"Can I come in? I know it's your lunch break and I'm really sorry, but I really don't wanna be advertising my personal, icky problems to all the docs and whack-jobs."

"Of course," Linda said patiently. She turned and walked away from the open door, giving her space to enter.

"It's about bowling night," was all Ella would say before the door was shut. "I hate it. I really, really hate it; the borrowed shoes, the disinfectant, the noise."

"It was your idea."

"Because I also hate awkward silence. I figured there'd be one when I told you what I've been gearing up to tell you, so I thought, pick the noisiest sport I know. But I lost my nerve, and then my intel changed, so now my story's different."

"Is this about Carol? Or Lucifer?"

"It's about me. Well, and Carol."

Linda braced herself.

"We're gonna have a baby."

"What?" Linda said intelligently, and then realized what she'd heard. "Oh my god! Okay, I thought you'd broken up, but this is good news."

"Uh-huh..."

"Well, isn't it?"

"Yep. Great. Great, great, great. I just―no, it sounds different when someone else says it." Ella chuckled, snapping her fingers on both hands and clapping.

Linda just looked at her without saying anything.

"Okay, so I'm terrified. Sooo not a big deal, right, what first-time mother isn't terrified?"

"Exactly."

"Yeah!" Ella squeaked, and struggled to get her emotions under control. "I mean, I've always had a lot of darkness in me, but I've really tried to live my best life, and I've come to realize that maybe I haven't been doing a good job, so lately I've been trying to get my life under control and now I have to take care of a baby, too...which is no slice of pie for any first-time mother, even an atheist, I mean―but a first-time mother who knows it's all real...shit, what am I supposed to do, right, I mean, if I can't stop my kid from picking his nose or eating off the floor, how am I supposed to keep myself out of hell?"

"Are you having a boy?" was all Linda could ask.

"I don't know. And it's really not my main concern right now."

"Yeah, yep. Sorry."

"No, I am. You only know what Amenadiel tells you, and you're on lunch break...I would have gone to Chloe, but she's busy. Lucifer's busy," she added with an empty chuckle. "I just wish there was someone more experienced I could talk to."

The door came open behind her, and both women turned to look at Amenadiel, carrying Charlie.

"Will I do?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course! I mean, heck, you're probably even better."

His powers fully restored, there was no way to tell he'd recently been in battle; he glowed with eternal life. He strode in, handing Charlie off to his eager mother. "There is always the option to stressing yourself into a heart attack, but a more useful tactic is meditation; just you, and your thoughts. It narrows your focus, simplifies the world around you, and really helps you see what you feel guilty about. Then the only step you have to take is making it right."

"I'll definitely try meditation."

"I would also like to discuss this with you further, Miss Lopez," he said, hesitantly tasting the title for himself. At the familiar endearment, she grinned.

"Oh, man, it sounds good when you say it, too. Hey―now that you're frickin God, can you mimic any accent?"

"Sure I can. I can do anything...and I'm just not talking about accents."

"So you can help me," she said hopefully.

"Yes."

"Uh, Amenadiel," Linda broke in. "You know I love my son, but I am on the clock and I don't need his wings popping out during session."

"No problem. I know the perfect sitter."

"Great. Thank you so much," she added, when he took him from her.

"You're welcome, Linda," he said, with a certain trace of reluctance in his voice. Why hadn't he picked her, the mother of his child? Without another word, he put an infinitely gentle hand on Ella's shoulder and steered her towards the door; drawn to his inner light like a moth to a flame, she went. She would follow him anywhere.

She just was not expecting to stumble suddenly into Lucifer's penthouse, with no travel in between. "Whoa," she said, staring around the room. "Are we really here?"

"Sounds like it," Lucifer's voice said. "And who did you bring, Miss Lopez?"

"Actually, Amenadiel brought me. I would have come to you sooner, but I thought you were busy!"

"I was. I just got back, actually."

Amenadiel started reaching out for Ella as she began heading decisively to his bedroom, then he refrained himself and his head drooped. He could not interfere...ever. For somebody almighty, he sure had to remind himself a lot. Ella skittered to a stop when she saw the topless, gnarled backside of the winged crimson man, staring at his reflection. "Whoa!" she repeated, making him turn. "What the...fudge?" she decided, reluctant to swear in front of a toddler. But when Lucifer took a step toward her, and she spun around to face Amenadiel, she saw that his arms were suddenly empty.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Miss Lopez."

"He's really not," Amenadiel reassured her.

Comforted by the godling's words, Ella forced a smile. "Okay," she whispered shakily, and turned hesitantly to meet the Devil's eyes.

"I'm really just ugly on the outside."

"You aren't ugly," she said, then realized she believed it. She huffed a sigh, putting her hands on her hips. "And neither is...Maze's...demon face," she added reluctantly.

"You've seen it!"

"Yeah. And...not ugly. Wait," she interrupted herself, whirling back to face Amenadiel, "Where's Charlie?"

"I dropped him off at Linda's house. He's under divine care."

"Aww, grandparent bonding time, that is sooo cute!"

"Isn't it?" Amenadiel asked, knowing Lucifer would spill the beans. He loved his brother, but some things were better left a mystery.

Offended somebody, anybody, would lie in front of him, Lucifer hastily spoke to cover up a snarl. "Sorry for being a buttinsky, but why'd you break in?"

"Ella would like to speak to somebody with heaven-hell experience; I figured two birds were better than two stones."

"Yeah, unless you're...throwing them at your adversary's car," Lucifer muttered, as he turned away. He had drawn near, and his wing nearly brushed into Ella; she withdrew, not in revulsion but just because his wings looked sharp. He looked like a dragon-man; it was amazeballs. Now every time she watched Shrek, she'd think of him.

"I have rocks at my place, if you're shy."

Lucifer turned back to look at her. "My adversary's more of a frequent flier."

Amenadiel glowered at him, then turned dismissively to Ella. "Why don't you say what you have to say?"

"Sure," she said, her tone implying it was the last thing she wanted to do. Eyes wide, she looked back at Lucifer. "Um... Well, I am...pregnant," she announced, and before she could go on Lucifer began to chuckle like a madman. "What? What is it?" she pressed, when his chuckles continued.

"Oh, Miss Lopez. You've been wandering this earth for 35 years and you're already knocked up," he chuckled. "Gosh, humans sure do lead productive lives, don't they? Or should I say reproductive lives? I mean, Maze has been around millions of years, and she's got more loose parts than a Lego castle! You know―I genuinely thought she'd have been the next among my little in-crowd to be up the duff." More chuckles.

"Anyway," Ella said awkwardly, "I've been nervous about going to hell, which I definitely am, because now I don't know if I even want this kid. I mean, but obviously abortion is wrong, right? But I could put it up for adoption, but―I mean, is that wrong? And what if he goes to hell because I put him up for adoption?"

"What do you mean?" asked Chuckles.

"Well, like, what if he thinks I didn't love him, thinks there's a reason, feels guilty... And goes to hell over it?"

"Ah, Miss Lopez, you're so full of love, it's sickening. Trust me, even if you do give 'im up, you'll eventually track him down and tell 'im how much you love 'im."

Ella considered briefly and nodded in consideration.

"Ah," Lucifer repeated, "Here's a thought that'll surely ease your mind. My brother can take away your soul. No soul, no suffering."

"Lucy―"

"And he can probably do the same for that lovable little brat of yours; if not you just won't get tortured! It's been done before."

"Lucy, a word?"

Ella watched the brothers walk towards the balcony, staring in amazement as the door repaired itself, like she was watching the reversed video of it breaking. With the mess cleaned up and all potential for injury eradicated, they stepped onto the porch and Lucifer shut the door, eyeballing his brother like he hadn't known about his powers. Then the door slid shut and they began to converse in private. Alone (unless a two-month-old fetus counted as company), she stared longingly at the wall of booze and wished for a drink.

"Why did you say that to her?"

"I know you have your powers back, Brother. You just gave my door an erection."

"Lucy, I don't want you making a habit of making exceptions."

"And why not? Surely you've thought about my request."

"Yes, Lucy, I have, and I don't think eradicating hell is a good idea."

Lucifer's smile flickered. "You what? You don't think stopping the torture, even the torture of innocents, is a good idea?"

"That's not the reason. You know I'd intervene if I could."

"You're God. You can do anything," Lucifer snapped. "The only person standing in your way happens to be an almighty and colossal dick."

"Lucy, I can't. I can't undo Father's work!"

"Why not?!"

Amenadiel pointed at him before he found the words. "There are some things you'll never understand," was all he offered, before going back inside. "Ella, I think I need to explain. See, my brother spoke out of turn before; the truth is, meditation is all I can truthfully recommend."

"That's cool, I don't care."

Lucifer came up behind Amenadiel, frowning. "Not to validate my brother's point, but I don't understand."

"Well, pfft, take my soul away? I mean, I'd basically be like Maze, right? That's a terrifying thought. I mean, she's my girl and everything, but no... I don't want to be her. I mean, even if I was already...like her," she carefully decided, "You know, as a person, I'm... How would I even choose between my own depression, and making everyone else miserable? People I love, people I never met―no, I can't. I could never choose, it's icky," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "So this is fine. It's better."

Again, a gentle scoff from the Devil. "You're a constant source of surprise, Miss Lopez."

She considered briefly and shrugged. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"Good. I didn't intend it as such, so...good."

She gave him a sardonic smile. "Aw, you try to be uncaring, but I know you're not as bad as you look."

"Well, gosh, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

"You know what I meant, right?"

"Yes...and I appreciate your forbearing contumely. Does anyone need a drink?"

"Uh, I probably shouldn't..."

He looked down at her hand, moving in a subtle gesture to her stomach. "Oh! Right, yes, of course, the...proverbial bun in the oven. Sorry."

She grinned, waving a dismissive hand―she wanted to tell him it was her fault, but it wasn't. Amenadiel was the one who brought her there. Looking over at his sober face, she knew he was reading her thoughts even if he didn't want to, and quickly redirected her thoughts. "Uh, so! Uh, is there anything else we should talk about?"

"God, let it be no," Lucifer muttered quaintly, as he unscrewed a lid.

"No. No, I think we've covered all our basics, but I need to ask you, Ella―do you understand that I cannot recommend taking away your child's soul?"

"I do, and I don't want you to. I want him to be complete."

"Good. I'm glad."

"Yeah, if you ask me, there are too many soulless bastards the way it is. Not that my child's a bastard," she said hastily, eyes going wide. "I know who the father is."

"Ella," Amenadiel said, "I knew before you did."

She cringed, turning away from them both. "Oh, god."

"Brother, do you realize how much business there is in your own paternity show?"

Ella gave a disturbed half-wave as she went numbly to the elevator. "Uh, okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Amenadiel echoed.

"Goodnight, Lucy."

He bared his teeth, emitting a soft growl before finally responding, "Goodnight, Miss Lopez."

Lucifer waited for her to leave before saying, "I mean, it's lunchtime, but goodnight."

"See, earthlings are cute like that, Lucy; she knows she won't see you for the rest of the day."

"I didn't want her to see me at all. And I didn't want to see you."

"She loves you, Lucy. Maybe the two of you can try meditation together."

"I'm the Devil. I don't meditate, Brother; I destroy."

"And yet you want to retire, completely."

"I've worked for millennia, don't you think I deserve a break? Some alone time at the very least?" Lucifer hissed.

Amenadiel smiled and appeared to relent. "Goodnight, Brother."

"And good riddance."

Amenadiel stepped into the elevator and turned around, glowering once again. The doors slid shut just before a blinding light shot out between the cracks. With a growling sigh of irritation, Lucifer scoured his penthouse, which seemed devoid of demons and deities; relieved, he passed by his manually restored wall of liquor and stepped up into his bedroom. Already shirtless, he approached his inviting bed; incapable of simply sitting down with his wings out, he sank to his hands and knees and crawled to the pillow.

The dream started with deceptive normalcy; Lucifer was his handsome, human self, licking alcohol off a woman's navel, once a typical Saturday night. He didn't even know who it was until he withdrew his head and saw the Detective, opening her eyes to look at him. "Lucifer..."

"Chloe," he said, puzzled. But it was a dream, and a damn enjoyable one. He grabbed both her arms, intent on doing what he did best―but then the atmosphere shifted. Chloe threw her head back and began screaming loud, horrible screams as Lucifer's hands sank into her arms, deeper and deeper, until her blood was pouring over Lucifer's hands. Incapable of stopping himself, he grinned wickedly and kept squeezing, feeling her bones under his fingers. The only actual word she could say was his name.

He curled his hand around her humerus and began twisting, and his sadistic laughter floated through the dark penthouse even as he murdered the love of his life.

Then, as if it wasn't bad enough, he heard the child.

"Mom? Are you here?"

He lunged to his feet and went to the end of the dais, blocking her view of the dark room and the sinful crime he had just committed―the sinful crime he had enjoyed. In a rather normal voice he said, "What are you doing here? It's a school night."

"I'm quitting school. To be with my dad. Have you seen my mom? I have to tell her my decision."

Lucifer's voice was clipped with barely bridled glee. "It's not your decision."

"It's my life. I think I'm old enough, and―what are you," she squeaked, as Lucifer lunged. A vicious storm of carnage ensued as he tore the girl apart.

Lucifer twitched and then jolted awake, his ragged breaths echoing in the dark. "Bloody hell," he gasped, and lifted himself to his hands and knees. Crawling off the bed, he stood up and turned on the lights. His penthouse was clean, untainted. Not like his mind. Bruised inside, he stumbled towards the wall of booze, trying to realize his guilt.

Was it Maze? Was it punishing the woman who had murdered his brother―was that why he dreamt of death?

No. Maze was where she belonged; he would never, ever feel guilty about putting her there.

Was it Dan? Was it being unable to help the one person he couldn't help before? A twinge in his heart made him pause as he was pouring the wine, but he brushed it aside. Yes, he felt guilty about Dan, but why would a car crash make him dream of Chloe? Unless it brought back a memory... Still, even if it felt he was onto something, he couldn't just accept it. He had to search his entire being, everything he ever was. Everything he had done.

He feared it would take an eternity.

Maybe it was her. Trixie. Maybe, now that he was going to be her stepfather, he was actually frightened that he wasn't worthy of her. Chloe could pretend she loved and accepted him; she could pretend her ass off. She had still refused to look at him during their flight.

Damn it, this...inner monologue wasn't going to cut it. He had to see Dan. Slamming the bottle on the counter, he turned and walked towards the balcony. He knew now that he would eventually die; he knew he would stab Uriel repeatedly, looking like this for the rest of his life―and worse, beyond. Nothing was more important to him now; how was he supposed to be the therapist of hell if he couldn't fix his own issues? Without another care in the world, he opened his wings and took to the skies once more.

The gate was still open, and he walked through, giving a good scare to a soul who was still entering into heaven. "Right, would you believe me if I said I died at a costume party?" he asked, and moved swiftly through paradise. Dan was nowhere to be found, not even at the beach like usual; he stopped and asked a cluster of people if they had seen a "lost-looking cop."

"In there," came the swift answer, as the man pointed to the stadium. "In the bleachers."

"Thank you."

Lucifer turned and jogged into the stadium, and countless souls peered at the devil, running through heaven. Just in case there was an innocent, happy person on the other side of the doors, Lucifer didn't barge recklessly through as he wanted; he slowed right down and opened them carefully. He was expecting a fight, a game, something. But there was nothing going on. There was nobody else. An event wasn't even ending or beginning; it was just Dan. Lucifer cast his eyes up to the bleachers. There he sat, unappreciative of being surrounded by the paradise he had fought a millennium for. He didn't care that he had an endless well of energy, an immunity to physical pain, and no more pesky urge to urinate. He didn't care that he would never age, never die again, never be far from a glorious sunrise on a perfect beach. He didn't care...about any of it. He didn't even care when the Devil sat beside him, although he did spare him a fleeting glance before returning his focus to, well, literally nothing.

"Daniel... I think I found out what's wrong with you."

"There's something wrong with me?"

"Yes, your depression, it...lives in heaven with you, and it shouldn't."

Dan kept looking over the stadium wall, past which nothing could be seen; it was like they were characters in a game, and the stadium wall was the edge of a map. It wasn't like heaven ran out; it was just the way it looked. But to Dan, heaven ran out almost as soon as he'd arrived. He gave a dry, humorless chuckle. "I can feel the sun on my face. I can hear the water, the laughter. There's joy everywhere. And I'm," he interrupted himself with a sigh. "Annoyed."

"I can tell."

"So what...what can you do for me?"

Lucifer didn't respond. How could he respond? For some reason, "I'm here to help myself" didn't really sound constructive.

In the silence, Dan looked over at Lucifer, practically twitching in his seat. "What?" he growled.

"Truth be told, I...I can't do anything."

"Then why are you here?"

Another question Lucifer didn't know how to answer.

Dan stared at him in silence for so long that even the Devil was uncomfortable; suddenly he gave his big old Daniel Espinoza grin. "Unbelievable. You're here to help yourself."

"Right, you're a detective..."

"Please, man, you're always in it for yourself. Even if you could help...why would you? It's fun for you, to annoy me."

"As I recall, you liked annoying me as well, Daniel."

"Yeah, I retaliated. I don't feel guilty."

"Oh, it's not an accusation. No, we got on each other's nerves, but we also got along, like...brothers."

Dan paused, mulling it over. "Wait, are you related to everybody?"

"I don't know. Distantly, maybe. Not important. No, what's important is that you...are delusional."

Another dry chuckle. "Thanks for the pep talk, man."

"I mean it. You didn't die in a car crash; you were shot to death, following a lead. It wasn't seventeen years ago, it was nearly two. I mean, you were killed in that crash, but you were revived, and unfortunately your soul got trapped in heaven before you went to hell."

"Wait, you're going too fast. I don't understand."

"You're broken."

Dan stared at him a moment longer, then looked away for a few moments before finally looking back at him. "Are you torturing me?"

"No, that's absurd," Lucifer scoffed. "I'm literally here trying to better myself. You, meanwhile, are in an extremely fragile state."

"I'm dead, Lucifer."

"The best of you is. But in cases like this, the worst of you is eternal. No amount of therapy..." He stopped when he realized, too late, the impact of his words. "Well, what I'm trying to say is that hopefully Amenadiel can alleviate your anguish. If not―" His words bumbled to a halt before he could say the horrible sentence.

But now Dan was curious. "If not...what?"

Lucifer couldn't lie, so he settled for an alternative truth. "You'll be miserable until the end of time, which may never come at all."

"That's not what you were going to say."

Lucifer sighed, deciding his guilt couldn't get any worse and he had no idea what the solution was. "If not, there is one cure to your suffering that I can give you myself."

"What? Why didn't you say anything before?"

Lucifer shook his head, staring into his eyes. "Because I don't want to kill you."

"Kill me? Uh, with what?"

"Azrael's Blade. Nasty little thing, it can kill a deity with a single thrust in just the right area. Now obviously I will exhaust all our options; going to Amenadiel..." He stopped, contemplating, and then shakily said, "And going back to Amenadiel..."

"Azrael. Wait, the little chic from the family dinner?"

"Indeed."

"And this Blade. It can kill me?"

"Quite. But it's a last resort, as I cannot stress enough how much I don't want to..." He stopped again, sighing and shaking his head. "Why are you smiling? Why does everyone in this messed-up family smile when I talk about obliterating them completely?"

"I'd rather be dead than here, Lucifer."

"I see. And shall I inform the girl at my own leisure, or when she arrives?"

"Dealer's choice."

"Daniel," Lucifer said, watching him abruptly stand. He began walking swiftly to the doors. "Detective!"