N/A: Thanks for the welcome, Alfagirl, hope you like this one!

02. A Boots-on-the-Ground Kind of God

Lucifer mulls over Doctor Linda's advice for far longer than he would care to admit.

He spends whole days losing himself in wandering the corridors, ostensibly making sure that no dangerous souls have escaped and everyone is being 'good little demons' after his prolonged absence. In reality, he is desperately trying to drown out the chaos in his head, to channel the emotions he cannot afford to acknowledge into something that at least feels marginally useful.

On his darkest days, he wishes he had never remembered how to feel at all.

Some days, when he can no longer face the charade, he sits on his lonely throne and imagines Chloe's lips pressed against his, her fingers running through his hair, the sound of the piano as they played their song for the last time.

He wonders how she is, tries to push down the pain at the knowledge that he will never know. And is glad that his throne is high enough up that the demons cannot see his face.

He is not sure how long he spends like this. After all, there are no more sunrises to watch, no more days evenly measured days by the wonderful, mundane tasks of a life on Earth. No more dates, or game nights. No more music.

No more sleep.

This drifting… it's familiar. Not as easy as it would be with real drugs or alcohol, but it's better than the alternative. Frankly, he thinks he's earned a slight reprieve after the mayhem that has been his life lately.

Beyond Azrael's fleeting visits to drop off souls, no other angels or archangels visit Hell. He can feel Michael's presence, of course, but they avoid each other by mutual agreement. Or perhaps by mutual disgust – even he isn't quite sure.

While welcome at first, this silence from his siblings soon turns into a lead weight in his stomach and he cannot help but mourn what little headway he had made at repairing the rift between them. If anything, he feels their loss more keenly than when he Fell; at least then, Dad had made it very clear that contact with him was forbidden. Now…

Well. Now is different.

As for the demons… the loss of Mazikeen cannot be understated. She had always been his loyal right hand, a stalwart defender ever since he had first crashed, burning, into Hell. She'd had his back as he'd fought for his life in those chaotic early years, and then stood by his side as he'd ruled.

He thinks of her living topside with Eve, and though he tries to wrap himself in the familiar bitter anger that used to come so easily in Hell, he finds that he cannot. She is happy, as she should be, and he is genuinely glad that she is no longer beholden to him.

He tries to distract himself from his isolation by pondering potential allies that he can reach out to. Surely, he thinks, the best way to approach this is to cherry-pick a few demons and have them coordinate the implementation of his new system, with him stepping in to… to…

And that, generally, is where his thought processes stutter to a halt. He remembers the pain and death that followed his Fall and does not want to contemplate that happening again. He doesn't think he could bear it.

Life was so much easier, he thinks, before he remembered how to feel.

oOo

He is just beginning to think that he might drift forever, when he looks up from the floor during his rounds and finds Amenagod standing nonchalantly before him.

His brother is softly glowing with divine light, even here in Hell, and Lucifer finds himself gazing in wonder at the purity of it. He feels like he has been shut out in the dark for so very long.

"Your return to Heaven has been requested."

Lucifer laughs incredulously, horrified to hear that his voice sounds strung out. Amenagod just smiles at him.

"My King," Squee mutters automatically as he approaches from behind Lucifer. "My…" he stops dead, mouth gaping open like a fish.

"Hello, Squee."

Squee stares at the being before him, shaking hand slightly raised as if to touch the glowing light around him, like a moth drawn to a flame. He jerks it back, perhaps afraid that it will burn him. He turns to Lucifer with a pleading expression.

"Get back to your duties," Lucifer orders, relieved that his voice sounds steadier this time. "He's just leaving."

Squee doesn't need to be told twice – he scampers off as if he's being pursued by the Hounds of Hell. Once he's a safe distance away, he chances a look over his shoulder, stumbles, and runs face first into a wall.

"Sorry… sorry…"

With that, the demon is gone, and Lucifer makes a face. "What an embarrassing exit."

"I'm not leaving, Luci."

"Well, I don't want you here," Lucifer grinds out, "not if you're going around glowing and smiling beatifically."

Amenagod chuckles, but doesn't move.

Lucifer sighs. "Fine! Fine. But not here."

Amenagod gamely follows him around the corner to what Lucifer has termed the Surrogate Office and steps inside, still smiling. Lucifer glances around to make sure they are unobserved and then steps in after him, unable to resist slamming the door.

"Alright, out with it, Amenagod. Has my return to Heaven really been requested?"

"Amenadiel."

That brings Lucifer up short. "What?"

"I'm still just Amenadiel."

Lucifer lets out another strung-out laugh. "Just Amenadiel? You're glowing! And would you stop bloody smiling."

Amenagod's – Amenadiel's – posture shifts back into one that Lucifer is more familiar with. "I'm sorry, Luci, I can't help it. It's just so good to see you!"

"So good to see me?" Lucifer parrots in disbelief. "Are you high? Do you know how long I've been down here alone?!"

Amenadiel nods, taking in Lucifer's appearance in concern. "Yes, I do. That's why I'm here."

"To summon me back to Heaven?" Lucifer sneers. Dimly, in the back of his mind, he can picture Doctor Linda's face giving him The Look.

"Not to summon you, no. To remind you that you are no longer banished. You can return any time you choose."

"I won't burst into flame again?"

"I cannot tell you at what point you can return without 'bursting into flame'," Amenadiel replies. "But I can tell you that when you are ready to return, you won't."

Lucifer sighs in exasperation, suddenly feeling exhausted. He sinks onto the sofa and, in lieu of a good vintage, pours himself a glass of water. It had taken a few tweaks, but he thinks he has managed to successfully replicate Doctor Linda's office now.

"Well, that's wonderfully clear, Brother, thank you."

Amenadiel surprises him by sitting down next to him. "I'm not being cryptic on purpose. I can't tell you when you go back – I'm simply reminding you that you can return."

"The Omnis don't give you an exact time and date, then?"

"They do, but you know as well as I do what happens when you're told the exact time and date of something in your future."

He feels that one like a punch to the gut, the water he has just sipped rising like bile in his throat.

Amenadiel reaches out as if to put a hand on his shoulder, then seems to think better of it. "I didn't say that to hurt you, Luci. Just to prove a point."

Lucifer stands shakily, suddenly finding that he can't remain sitting. "Well… Consider that point proven."

Amenadiel doesn't respond, so Lucifer takes the opportunity to try and gather himself. The Hellscape around the Surrogate Office is currently manifesting as night-time, to match the mood of the main inhabitant, and Lucifer catches sight of himself in the reflection of the window.

It's the first time he has dared to really look at himself since his return, and he feels dimly surprised at what he sees. The hair and clothes are immaculate, as always, but the face staring back at him is hollow in more ways than one. The eyes have lost their mischievous spark, the cheeks are sucked in, and the sunken eyes sit above dark circles so prominent they look like bruises.

He doesn't realise he has touched his cheek in shock until he sees it reflected back at him.

"As I said," he hears Amenadiel say softly from behind him. "I've come down for you. Your time here has not been kind."

"Kind?" Another too-high laugh.

He turns to face his brother, empty glass shaking in his hand. "It's Hell, of course it hasn't been kind."

Amenadiel just looks at him.

Suddenly, it's all Lucifer can do to swallow back the rage. "Doctor Linda said you wouldn't change. I have to say, I really wish she hadn't been wrong about this."

"She's not wrong," Amenadiel says patiently. "I'm still the same person, Brother, just with a different skill set. And I am trying to be the less mysterious, 'boots-on-the-ground' kind of God that we both pictured. But, obviously, not always successfully," he says wryly.

"Luci," he continues, standing, "I can't tell you all the answers, you know that. But what I can do is be here for you."

"And what exactly does that involve, hmm? What platitudes have you got for me? 'It's not all bad, Lucifer, you'll get to see her when she dies and decides to visit'? Excuse me if I'm not skipping with joy."

"No, nothing like that. I won't lie to you, this part of Dad's plan for you… Well, it sucks."

Lucifer laughs incredulously. "That's one way of putting it."

"You don't have to go through it alone."

"Then why have none of our siblings visited?" Lucifer chokes out. "Why, after eons of trying to be a better Devil, am I right back where I started, hmm?"

"I hear you," Amenadiel says gently. "Believe me, I do. The… 'Omnis', as you call them… tell me that there's nothing I can say to you to make you feel better in this moment. But," he says, drowning out Lucifer's bitter scoffing noise, "I don't care."

"You… don't care. What does that even mean?"

"I know that nothing will make you feel better, but I'm still going to try."

Lucifer frowns. "Did you bang your head when you Ascended?"

Amenadiel sighs, some of the old brotherly exasperation shining through, and Lucifer feels marginally reassured.

"Will I find bits of Omni Brain floating around the Silver City if I go back?"

Amenadiel rewards him with a smirk but, true to form, ignores the bait. "As I said, I'm here as your brother, not as… Amenagod. Thank you for no longer calling me that, by the way."

"Well, now I'm practically obliged to."

"Then prepare to be smited."

Lucifer lets out a real laugh this time, surprising even himself.

"Our siblings may not have been brave enough to visit yet," Amenadiel continues, predictably ruining the first marginally good moment Lucifer has had in a while with his insufferable seriousness. "But you haven't gone to see them either. Anyway," he continues when Lucifer angrily opens his mouth, "I'm not here to talk about them."

He gestures to the sofa that they had both vacated. "Feel like a brainstorming session on how to win over the demons from Hell?"

"But…" Lucifer says, completely nonplussed, "don't you already know what happens?"

"I know all the possible futures, yes, but you don't. You need someone impartial to bounce ideas off while you make your decision. I think being a good listener must be somewhere in my new job description."

Lucifer nods slowly. "Fine. At this point, I'm willing to give anything a try, no matter how idiotic it sounds… But there is one thing I do request divine intervention for."

Amenadiel sits down, lips twitching as he tries to keep a straight face at what he no doubt knows Lucifer will say next.

"Put me out of my misery and tell me how to Manifest proper alcohol down here, won't you? I'm parched."