A/N: More dialogue from Shadowhunters 3x17 used. I don't own it, Freeform does!

Devil in the Details

There was no time to react.

Simon tried to push Izzy behind him, but she was rooted in place, in horror. She could see the knife coming towards her - that glint of deadly silver - and all she could think about was how it wasn't supposed to end this way. She wasn't supposed to die here and now. Her baby wasn't supposed to die before they had the chance to grow and have a happy life.

"Isabelle!"

Raphael jumped between her and the blade. It sunk into his chest, just below his heart. He fell to the ground, eyes wide and shocked and so very mortal. So surprised by how quickly it all could end. Those eyes never left Izzy's, so brown and full of hope quickly dimming.

"NO!" Izzy cried, running to where her former lover laid in a puddle of his own mortal blood. She pulled Raphael into her lap, cradled his head in her hands as she rocked back and forth. It was awkward around her bump; everything got in the way. But she didn't let go. She couldn't let go.

This wasn't meant to happen this way. Raphael was meant to live a human life. A long life. A good life.

It wasn't fair.

"After the years of work I put into this project, I won't let you and Simon Lewis ruin it," Aldertree said calmly, collectedly, as if handling this uprising were a simple nuisance. A fly buzzing around his head, easily squashed.

"So what are you gonna do? Have me killed?" Izzy demanded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

She didn't want to leave Raphael there, alone on the ground. She didn't want to leave him behind. But she had to, or else Aldertree would take her too, and she couldn't have that. As much as it hurt, she couldn't let herself be taken again. Raphael wouldn't have wanted that. He didn't die for her to be taken again.

Simon pulled Izzy up, tears in his own eyes at the sight of his sire lying lifeless on the ground, and tried to shield her from oncoming danger. Helen flanked Izzy's side, grip tight on her weapon. Clary bared her teeth; there was blood smeared on her forehead, a tear in her jumpsuit. The woman next to her - Iris Rouse - actually spat in the face of approaching danger.

Aldertree stopped paces away, backed by nothing but his own gumption. No guards, no weapons in sight, yet he acted as if he had already won. As if they weren't even a threat. Izzy wasn't naive enough to think he'd be alone for long. Guards would come any moment, and their window of opportunity would vanish.

He extended a hand, an olive branch.

"Join me, Isabelle. Be part of the revolution."

"You're delusional."

"The world will be a safer place once it's free from demon blood. Without the Downworld, we can focus on protecting the mundanes from demons, like we were always meant to do. And with the upcoming arrival of your child, you will provide us with the perfect weapon to ensure the demons never rise again. You could be a savior amongst men. With your help, no one will ever be poisoned with the abomination that is demon blood."

"What about those that are born with demon blood in their veins?" Helen demanded, standing up to the boss she swore loyalty only hours before.

Aldertree registered the betrayal. His lip curled. "They'll thank me for the favor."

Every word out of his mouth was poison. And to think, Izzy ever thought she could love him.

"I know your wife was a werewolf who went feral and attacked you, but it doesn't justify stripping the Downworld of who they are without their consent," Izzy pleaded, begging Aldertree to see sense. He used to care for creatures before loss hardened his heart.

"If I could go back to that moment and cure Eva, I would still be holding her in my arms today."

"I'm sorry you couldn't save her, but this fantasy of yours is not the answer."

"It's no longer a fantasy, Isabelle."

"You're right. It's not."

Aldertree spun around. Somehow, Clary had gotten behind him and stolen his stele out from under him while he was ranting like a lunatic. She brandished it like a sword, drawing symbols none of them had ever seen before. Her palm glowed a bright, golden yellow. She aimed it at Aldertree.

"It's over."

The golden power flew from Clary's palm into Aldertree's chest, blasting him from where he stood into the nearest wall. The ceiling shook, the walls cracked. Vials full of Heavenly Fire fell to the floor, coating the concrete in sticky puddles of angelic power.

Alarm bells blared louder. The whole room was cast into red light.

"We have to go!" Izzy shouted over the noise. "The whole place is going to explode!"

"Someone has to close the door!" Simon reminded.

They tried to turn back, but a chunk of ceiling fell and crumbled at their feet, cratering the ground. It forced them all to run for the door, tripping over cracks and each other. On the other side of the wreckage stood none other than Iris Rouse.

"Iris!" Clary cried.

What the hell was she thinking? The warlock held a match in one hand, the other poised above the button that controlled the doors. The flame was nearly half way down the match, only seconds from burning out.

"The thought of living the next 50-odd years without magic? I'll take death by actual fire over this heavenly stuff any day," she said. The dirt on her cheeks rose with her smirk. Her hair whipped around her face, wild and free. "At least when they kill you at the Gard, they do it quickly."

"Iris, don't - "

The doors were already creaking to a close, cloaking Iris in shadows. And still, she was more vibrant than ever. More alive than she had been in a very long time.

"No tears for me, dear," she scolded, a manic gleam in her eye. "I choose this. Now go! Tell Madzie I love her!"

The word love echoed as the doors sealed shut with a hiss and a lock, gears sliding into place as twelve inches of titanium held the barrier between them and total destruction.

For a moment, everything was silent. There was no chaos, no warning bells or calls to arms. There was simply a moment of silence for their ally. Their friend.

"Clary," Izzy implored, pulling on her wrist. The moment was over, and Iris' sacrifice would mean nothing if they stuck around to barbecue themselves to a crisp. "You have to make us a portal. We need to get out of here. Now."

"I-I don't know - "

The whole prison rocked as the explosions went off. Izzy fell to her knees as the foundation rumbled, shielded her head as rubble fell from the ceiling. Heavenly Fire spewed from the edges of the locked door, up through the domed ceiling into the air high above. The heat was unbearable, burning the edges of Izzy's hair, shriveling her lungs. There was only so long those doors would last before -

Metal whistled as screws started popping from their joints, projectiles flying in all directions.

"Clary!" Izzy snapped, stress making her see things more clearly. Raphael was dead. Iris was gone. More guards would come and close in on their location any second. It was now or never. "You're the only one who can do this! Do it now!"

With shaking hands, Clary started to draw. She poured her power, her blood and sweat and tears into the rune on her hand. Izzy could smell the burning of her flesh, the rending of her skin in order to grant their freedom. A sacrifice well made as the first swirling sparks of a portal manifested in front of them.

Simon started to laugh as the portal grew bigger, and bigger, until finally it was wide enough for them to step through.

Izzy didn't hesitate. She took Clary's hand and jumped.

"Lucifer! That's enough!"

Magus was screaming. Shouting. Hurling things at his back. Punching him with his fists. Doing anything short of tossing him across the room with his magic. And yet, none of it made a scratch. If anything, the volleys made him stronger, made the fire in his veins burn brighter.

Oh, how good it was to be back!

Lucifer had to admit, he missed this. He missed the power of being the Devil. Not so much the livid red skin or the hulking monstrosity of a body, but he missed the power. He missed the strength. He had been so weak lately. So consumed with being human. He forgot how much fun it was to hold a mortal in his hand, light as a feather, and watch it squirm in panic. He forgot how much he liked to delight in the fear or something evil.

This pathetic creature was due for a punishment.

Lucifer planned to deliver.

"Let's see what's really inside you," Lucifer snarled, his grip tightening on Jace's windpipe until he was unable to breathe.

Red eyes flared to life, boring into Jace's and infiltrating his mind. Images of gruesome murders, flashes of the screams and final pleas of others echoing through his ears. All of the Owl's sins played in vivid technicolor. All the horrors Lilith made him do. All the things that required punishment.

Jace screamed as well. No, the Owl screamed - something piercing and inhuman. Like nails on a chalkboard. Demonic. Black smoke blurred Jace's face, flooded his eyes, shifted his mask back into place, then disappeared. Squirming as if it couldn't settle on staying or going.

Oh, Lucifer would make it go. He would force it out if it was the last thing he did. He would not allow Lilith to continue terrorizing Isabelle. His family.

Lucifer pushed himself further, invaded Jace's mind until he could no longer distinguish where the Nephilim started and he ended. Lucifer searched for something, for the source of this smoky, oily blackness. The tiny sliver of Lilith's soul, so similar to the one inside his ring. He found it wound around the base of Jace's skull, wound around his brainstem, poisoning his thoughts, staining his veins black until it pushed darkness through his heart. Lilith was killing him slowly, so slowly. Lucifer dug in, focused his fire there.

Jace howled. He screamed with the little air allowed through his windpipe. The more he screamed, the more that burned away, exhaling the darkness. He screamed until he couldn't scream anymore. He screamed his vocal cords raw, inflamed them with his pain.

But he was free.

Satisfied, Lucifer let himself calm down. He felt his wings retract, his claws shape back to fingers. The fire in his own veins died down, leaving him cold and exhausted...though that could have been due to the fact that he had shredded his suit while he Deviled-out, and now the breeze from the broken windows was leaving him chilled.

"There," Lucifer sighed, dropping Jace with an almighty plop, the Nephilm's body crumpling like a wadded up dollar bill. "I didn't kill him. Bargain kept."

Magnus rushed over to where Jace lay and turned him over. He ran his hands over Jace's body, magic sparking at his fingertips while he tried to magically detect any source of pain or injury. Magnus would never find one. After all, the damage was to Jace's soul.

"You damn near did everything else!" Magnus hissed, checking Jace's pulse.

"He threatened Miss Lightwood! My child!"

"My boyfriend's parabatai!" Magnus threw back, furious at his uncle. "Everything that Jace experiences, Alexander experiences as well! Did you even try to restrain yourself?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." Lucifer was not going to back down, not on this one. "You may not like it, but Lilith had her hooks in deep. There was no easy way to rid your precious Jace of her possession. You knew this going in. I thought that was why you sought out my help."

"Your help might mean he will never wake up."

As if on cue, Jace let out a heaving, staggering breath. It was the violent, dramatic kind of breath that jolted his whole body, making it curl like a fish out of water. Magnus' jaw dropped, hands working in double time to soothe any imaginary ache.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Oh, praise Dad! Crisis averted!"

Magnus didn't hear Lucifer. He was too busy getting up close and personal with Jace's face. He held Jace's face in his hands. "Jace! Jace talk to me. Are you alright?"

Another roll of Lucifer's eyes and he headed to the bar, plucking his favorite red silk robe from a nearby chair and pulling it over his sore shoulders as he went. There was nothing he could do, nothing Magnus would let him do, and Lucifer was fine with that. So long as the Nephilim didn't break anything else or puke on anything while clawing back to consciousness, Lucifer didn't care what happened to him. Besides, nursing wasn't in Lucifer's skill set.

"Wh-where am I?" came the gravel, strangled tone of one half-dead Nephilim.

That blonde head slowly sat up with Magnus' help - one hand on his back and the other ready to stabilize his swaying body. Jace had his hands at his temples, trying to clear his head. It was obvious he didn't recognize his surroundings, not sure as to how he ended up in a penthouse all the way across the country.

As soon as he caught sight of Lucifer, his multi-colored eyes widened and filled with fear. He pushed himself back, until he collided with the wall. "Stay away from me!"

"Whoa, hold on. It's alright. You're safe. Lilith's not coming to get you," Magnus soothed, raising his hands in front of him, as if calming a skittish fawn.

At the name Lilith, Jace's fear escalated. His head swiveled from Lucifer to Magnus and back again, as if he didn't know which terror was worse.

"Yes she is! She always does - "

"Not anymore." Magnus reached out and placed a hand on Jace's forearm, grounding him. "Lucifer...Lucifer saved you from her."

That was one way to put it. Not how Magnus wanted to put it, clearly.

"My head..." Jace held it, grimacing as he looked Lucifer's way, his eyes wide and scared. "What did you do to me?"

"Oh, what didn't I do to you?"

"Lucifer."

Magnus' reprimand did little to mitigate Lucifer's smirk. He had an opening, and he took it.

"I burned away Lilith's mental link. Literally. Required some introspection on your part, a real analysis of the soul." He finished his whiskey, the burn sweet and satisfying. "Nothing like a little hellfire to wash away a bit of demonic influence. Looking into my eyes is like letting the fire in. But you, Jace. You let it burn you through."

Jace would feel that fire for the rest of his life. That was the cost of something like this. A choice between the lesser of two evils. Lucifer or Lilith. Jace had that choice made for him, and for the rest of his life, when he thought about all the terrible things he did in the name of the Mother of Demons, he would see twin flames burning into his soul. Red, vengeful eyes. His punishment. His choice.

"We should clean you up. Get you something to drink," Magnus said, helping Jace to his feet.

"Perhaps a gin rickey? Vodka on the rocks?" Lucifer raised the bottles, ready to pour out his feelings and let bygones be bygones.

"No! No, I - I have to find Izzy. She's in danger."

"Yes, and no thanks to your lot, locking her up like that!" Lucifer admonished, one shot of liquor turning into two. It was a double kind of night. "I mean prison? Seriously? Talk about overkill."

"Everything's fine," Magnus soothed. "Simon is leading a prison escape. He's bringing Izzy and Clary home."

"W-wait, Izzy's not in the Gard anymore?" For some reason, this lit a fire under Jace's ass. He moved towards the elevator like a bat out of Hell. A drunk and stumbling bat. "We have to go!"

"What's the rush?" Lucifer crowed, cutting Jace off and pointing for him to take a seat on his plush leather sofa. "Settle down, get comfortable. You've only just got control of the car, best to reacquaint yourself with the steering."

"You don't get it," Jace protested, and kept pushing towards the elevator. He was a brave, stubborn bastard, Lucifer would give him that. "Lilith wasn't just inside my head, controlling my thoughts. Her thoughts were my thoughts. We were so connected...I knew everything she was planning. And the second that Izzy made it back home, she was going to strike."

"Strike?"

"She wants Izzy. She wants the baby. I-I was never sure why -"

Something unpleasant twisted in Lucifer's gut.

"Lilith visited me some time ago, told me that she wanted her son and my child to take over and rule this world together. I thought she was stark raving mad, on a power trip or a bad high. But she's been misleading me, distracting me all this time, and now - "

" - Isabelle's home," Magnus said, looking up from his phone with a mix of dying elation and terror. "Alexander's just texted to tell me. She's with him. Right now."

Bugging Lucifer was a good idea at the time. Following him up to his apartment and hiding behind the couch a little less so, but Chloe'd had crazier ideas. Lucifer had given her crazier ideas. But Lucifer was the problem.

And now Lucifer was -

Amber liquid swirled around her finger, and she got lost in the vortex.

Chloe watched Lucifer throw a grown man against a wall like he weighed nothing. Chloe watched as that man's anger turned into fear, turned into terror. Chloe watched as her partner - the man in the Prada suits with a penchant for the dramatic - turned into something far larger, far more powerful, far more grotesque than a normal human. Chloe watched as red eyes burned with unspeakable horrors, their hellish glow illuminating the reflection of the window.

The creature in the glass was burned and red-skinned, covered in scar tissue and decay. The creature in the glass was otherworldly and haunting, filled with ancient power and wrath. Anger poured from him like a poison, thick and heavy, choking the screams in her throat.

Her gun shook in her hands. She pressed her back into the leather couch. She didn't need to see what happened next. Hearing was quite enough.

There was enough noise to remain undetected until everyone left - not out the elevator but simply disappeared between whooshes of air and the smell of static and storms. Enough nerve left in her to get to shaking feet and exit the building. Enough people crowding the street for her to disappear. Enough time left in the night that the bars would still be open.

Chloe downed her whiskey, straight. Then another. And another. Her gun remained checked at her hip. Her hands were still shaking. Her mind was still reeling.

She wanted answers so badly. Now she knew.

Lucifer Morningstar was the Devil.