He had to see.
He had to know.
In a flash, he zapped straight up, appearing just inside the open door of the dingy motel room. He sensed no one else, spotting Serah right away, the tension in his muscles receding as confusion washed through him.
She was dancing.
He could faintly detect the music from this distance, streaming straight to her from the tiny speakers lodged in her ears. She danced to the beat of the song, swaying and bouncing, oblivious to everything around her as she absently changed the sheets on a bed.
Luce could do nothing but stare. Common sense told him to back away, to put some distance between them before he did something stupid, but it was hard to be logical when you're a passion-fueled creature not known for doing the right thing.
Ever.
He hadn't been this close to her since she woke up a new person... a mortal. He could smell her, the natural sweetness, and the light fragrance of flowers, with a hint of sweat lingering on her skin. And he could feel her warmth from where he stood, feel it radiating from her and absorbing into him. Her heartbeat was louder so close, tempting him, calling to him.
What harm would it do to touch her one time? Just once, a graze of her skin, to stand flush against her body and breathe her in. She'd never know, as long as he was willing to let go.
In a moment of weakness, he took a step toward her, just as she swung in his direction. Her gaze flickered up toward the door as she abruptly stopped dancing, eyes going wide. Her heart stalled, the brief moment of silence screaming loudly to Lucifer, ripping him to shreds from the inside out. His worst fear was coming to life, even for a second: Serah's heart wasn't beating.
He felt the pain gripping his own chest.
But then her heart kicked into overdrive, pounding violently as she startled, yanking the music from her ears. A gasp resounded through the room when her lips parted. She stared through him, around him, at something near him, but there was no way she stared at him.
No way.
It just wasn't possible. They may have stood in the same room, but they were on entirely different planes. A human couldn't see an angel unless they purposely showed themselves, and he'd never shown himself to a human. Never.
"It's you," she whispered.
Lucifer stared at her with disbelief. Me?
"I, uh... I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't know anyone was in here... I didn't think... I mean, I thought... well, check out was an hour ago, and all your things were gone, and I didn't realize..."
She stammered on and on. Lucifer was dumbfounded, remaining quiet and gaping at her like he was the one seeing a ghost.
"I can go, and come back," she continued. "I mean, if you still need the room, that is. I don't want to be in the way."
She started for the door, trying to go around him. On a whim, Lucifer stepped in her path, still expecting her to go right through him, like humans always did, but her footsteps stalled. Her heart skipped another beat as she swallowed thickly. He could sense it then, something angels were trained to detect, the one thing that surrounded him day in and day out down in the pit. Fear.
"Can you see me?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in question.
She stared at him blankly for a moment, and he still thought maybe she stared through him, until she slowly nodded her head. "Of course."
"You see me," he said again. "You know me?"
"Yes," she said tentatively, her heartbeat so frantic it was like a bass drum. Hope swelled through Luce. She really remembered him. "Well, no… I don't know you. I've seen you, but I don't know who you are."
His stomach dropped. "You don't?"
"Uh, no… should I?"
"But you can see me," he said for the third time, raising his voice. He ignored her question, the voice deep inside of him screaming 'how the fuck could you ever forget?' "You've seen me before."
"Yes, of course," she said, her voice quaking as she took a step back, wrapping her arms around her chest. "What's wrong with you?"
He was scaring her. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm himself down, but it was senseless. There was no way this was happening. It was a dream, or a fucking nightmare, punishment from his Father. He hadn't escaped the pit at all… maybe this was his new Hell, forever to be teased and taunted by her existence, close but still so far away.
Turning around, he stepped out of the open doorway and glanced around, freezing when he saw someone walking down the tier toward him. He stepped toward them as they approached the room next door to unlock it. Lucifer waved his hand in the woman's face, but she didn't react, brushing against him without noticing him there.
Once she was gone, he looked around again, seeing Serah watching him incredulously from the other room. He stood on the tier, looking around the neighborhood, seeing people walking by on the street below, others lingering in the parking lot.
He shouted, trying to get their attention, but his voice was lost to them, the wrong frequency for mortal ears.
Serah flinched, though, covering her ears and cringing when he turned in her direction. He stalked toward her, pointing at her, as she retreated back into the room.
"What's wrong with you?" he growled, echoing her question. It clearly wasn't him that was fucked up—it was her. Mortals couldn't see him, couldn't hear him, couldn't sense him, but she was holding a conversation with him as if this shit were normal. "How can you see me?"
"You're crazy," she said, something akin to terror flashing across her face. "Oh God, maybe I'm crazy. I'm really crazy, aren't I?" She plopped down on the edge of the bed, long ago forgetting she was in the middle of making it. She cradled her head in her hands. "I've lost my mind. You're not real. You're not really here."
Lucifer wanted to console her, to clear this all up and make sense of the mess, but he was speechless. How was this happening? He opened his mouth and closed it again.
What could he say?
"You're not crazy."
She laughed loudly with disbelief. "Then what am I?"
"You're—"
Before he could get out his sentence, a strong tingle shot down his spine, a brilliant glow surrounding him. The light exploded to a ball of bright white, blinding him for a second, before the world around him cleared.
"—an angel."
He finished his declaration quietly, the words senseless. He was so far away she would never hear. His feet were planted somewhere he hadn't been in thousands of years, a place he never expected to see under these circumstances… a room he didn't anticipate an invitation to anytime soon.
Or ever again.
Heaven.
It was exactly how he recalled it. Lucifer stood in front of the throne, eyes meeting his Father's for the first time since his fall. Beside Him sat Michael, in the seat that had been created for Lucifer. Anger simmered inside of him, every inch of him coiling and tightening, so tense he couldn't move. Literally.
His gaze drifted to his feet. Sigils were burned into the floor around him, the same markings that had not long ago tarnished his skin, trapping him in Hell. He laughed dryly under his breath. Un-fucking-believable. Imprisoned in Heaven.
Invited, but clearly not trusted. He was confined in a box of enchanted space, barred from stepping outside of it, of hurting anyone away from it.
Luce's eyes returned to the throne. He cocked an eyebrow in question, but he said nothing.
His Father stared back, calm, collected. His nonchalant demeanor only fueled Luce's rage. How dare He bring him here and confine him like a rabid animal needing caged. He was done being restrained.
"Do you have nothing to say, son?"
"Fuck you."
He spat the curse with everything in him, but it still wasn't enough for a reaction from Him. Michael, on the other hand, flinched.
"He that blasphemes the name of the Lord shall be put to death," Michael declared.
Luce turned to him. "Well, fuck you, too."
His Father slowly shook His head, with just one look making Luc
e feel like that same disgruntled disappointment he'd been back in the Garden of Eden. "You still hold onto so much anger."
"Can you blame me?"
Rhetorical question, but He answered anyway. "Yes."
"Good. Great. Glad we could have this talk. Now put me back where you got me from."
"Trust in The Lord with all your heart," Michael said, "and do not lean on your own understanding."
Luce needlessly blinked a few times and regarded his brother as he recited scripture. He'd had the good book quoted to him more times than he cared to count since he escaped the pit, like those words were supposed to mean something to him. He was getting tired of hearing it.
"Not a fan of literature?" He asked, hearing Luce's thoughts. Of course. He heard all, knew all, saw all... Luce was sure Michael could whip out a dozen scriptures stating just that.
"I'm more of a Stephen King fan."
"So you prefer fiction to reality?"
Luce shrugged a shoulder. "Reality is subjective. Down in the pit, it's all real."
Michael started to throw out yet another nugget of biblical wisdom, but their Father raised a hand to silence him.
"That's not what I wanted for you, son."
"But it's what you gave me," he replied. "So if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you'd put me back where you found me."
"I will happily return you to the lake of fire," Michael interjected. "It would be my pleasure."
"Your pleasure?" Luce asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
Michael nodded in confirmation. "Nothing would please me more."
"Nothing?" Luce laughed mockingly. "I tell you, Mikey, if that's how you get your thrills these days, I suggest finding another angel to get your rocks off with. You know, since you got the last one de-winged."
Michael was up out of his seat, hastily approaching in the blink of an eye. He stopped right in front of Luce, mere inches of space between the two. Luce stood as still as a statue, just waiting for Michael to move a bit closer... just waiting for him to cross the sigils so he could get his hands on him.
"You did it to her," Michael growled. "You destroyed her."
"I'm not the one who tried to cast her into Hell."
"But it's your fault it happened!"
"Enough." Their Father's voice rang through the room, not raised at all, but it held all the force of a ferocious scream. "You two sound like bickering children... dare I say, like brothers."
Michael didn't seem to like that assessment and tried to speak up. "But—"
"I said that's enough," He said, waving beside the throne. "Take your seat, Michael."
Hesitantly, Michael retreated, sitting back down. Luce glared at him, his Father's words rubbing him the wrong way. Take your seat, Michael. That seat had been created for him, not Michael.
"It was," He said, once again hearing his thoughts. "But you forfeited it, giving up your place in Heaven."
"So why am I here then?" Luce asked. "Scold me, smite me, do whatever you want to do to me, but I'm done with this conversation, so get on with it or let me go."
His Father stared at him, contemplating. When He finally spoke, His words were quiet. "You may mean no harm to her, son, but you know what they say about good intentions."
In an instant, Lucifer was zapped away in another ball of bright white light, reappearing exactly where he had been standing in the motel room. As the room cleared around him, everything coming into focus, His final words ran through Lucifer's mind.
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
In this case, probably literally.
"I'm what?"
Lucifer's gaze darted to the bed, to where Serah still sat, staring at him. It felt like he'd been away for half an hour, but he knew it would only be a fraction of a second to her. She would've never noticed he was gone, would've never seen him leave and come back.
She stared at him, waiting for him to finish what he'd been saying before he'd been interrupted.
You're an angel.
Yeah, because that would go over well. She'd either be certain then, that he was crazy, or he'd look like nothing more than a pervert with a cheesy pick-up line. Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?
Of course it did, asshole. I bled out in the fucking street.
He shook his head, brushing it off, as he slowly stepped toward her. She didn't cower away from him, more curious than fearful. Wide-eyed, she stared up at him when he paused in front of her.
"You're dreaming," he said quietly. "I'm nothing more than a figment of your imagination."
Reaching out, he pressed a single fingertip to her forehead, feeling the energy pulsing beneath her skin. It only lasted a second, a mere second of touching her again, before she fell back on the bed.
She was out like a light, fast asleep. She'd wake up after he was gone, and this whole encounter would be nothing but a vague dream.
Sighing, he gazed at her for a moment before leaving. He fucking hated when those holy rollers were right.
The humans had it all.
They lavished on earth, innocent and righteous, granted eternal life in paradise. Adam and Eve loved each other, their love sanctified by God, and they showed each other affectionately. They were obedient creatures, as obedient as Lucifer had always been, except they had something he didn't.
Free will.
It was a novel concept he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. The angels were created for a specific reason, to perform tasks dished out by the Dominion, orders from their Father. It was undeniable, unarguable. He spoke and they listened.
But humans were created and set free. Their job was merely to exist, with hope they'd always love God for their gift.
It caused something to twist inside of Lucifer, a shift in his make up, foreign thoughts and feelings invading the Archangel's world. He was a jealous sibling, wondering why his Father loved a different child more than him.
He resented Adam.
The human had everything.
Lucifer stood in the middle of the garden, beneath the Tree of Knowledge, the one and only thing forbidden to these humans. Lucifer lived an existence of obedience, yet these beating-heart creatures' only rule was 'don't touch this tree.'
A tree.
Reaching out, Lucifer ran his fingertips along the smooth bark. It was nothing special, nothing any different than the other trees in the garden. Had God not singled it out as special, none of them would've noticed it. It was a test, Lucifer knew… it was their Father's way of gauging their obedience, how faultless and perfect his beloved humans were.
Bullshit.
The woman named Eve lingered nearby, oblivious to his presence. She cast looks at the tree but never ventured too close. Maybe it was out of love, like their Father believed, but Lucifer detected something else. It was the first time he'd ever felt it. Fear. Fear of what would happen if she touched it, fear of whatever secrets the fruit held. Lucifer watched her for a while, his frustration mounting each second that ticked by.
He leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms over his chest. A green serpent slithered along the branch above him, drawing Eve's attention.
Eat from the tree, he thought, projecting the sentiment directly at her. She tensed as if his silent words rang loud and clear through the garden. Her eyes shifted around, her fear growing, before her gaze turned right back to the serpent.
She thought the creature was speaking to her.
Try the fruit, he thought. It's the best there is.
Eve stepped his way, edging closer to the tree than she ever ventured before. Her heartbeat was wild, the thumping like an echo in Lucifer's ears.
Her voice was quiet, her eyes hesitantly on the snake. "We're not supposed to eat from that tree. God told Adam—"
Nonsense, Lucifer thought, cutting her off. It's the Tree of Knowledge. Don't you think having wisdom is a good thing? Don't you want to be knowledgeable? Don't you want to be closer to Him?
"But—"
Try it, he th
ought again. Touch it. Taste it. Eat the fruit.
She hesitated, staring long and hard at the tree, before stepping even closer, her body unwittingly flush against Lucifer. Reaching up, she plucked an apple from the branch near the snake and brought it to her lips, hesitating once again, before taking her first bite.
A soft moan escaped the woman's lips as she closed her eyes, juice from the apple running down her chin. A smile curved Lucifer's lips as he watched her savor the forbidden fruit.
He wondered what it tasted like.
The Tree of Knowledge. He wasn't sure what the human got out of it, but he certainly learned something.
His Father's new children weren't as perfect as He hoped.
There's only one thing worse than Hell.
Hell without a King.
The moment Lucifer stepped through the sixth gate, the whirlwind sucking him down to the pit, chaos greeted him. The blur of surroundings around him cleared, the seventh gate in tact. It was different now, the magical translucent shield stronger, the sigils that had once marked Lucifer's skin now burned straight into the gate. It was the only way to keep the demons inside, to keep the evil from crossing through and heading right back onto Earth in Lucifer's absence.
He paused a few feet away, staring at the madness. He wasn't around to keep up the façade—to tidy up, so-to-speak—so it was little more than a bottomless pit of anarchy. Fire raged as demons ran loose, fighting and fucking, torturing and taunting. Every Hell that had existed converged into one gigantic mindfuck of a nightmare.
It turned his stomach.
They were savages.
Luce slowly approached, the gate within reach of his fingertips. Anything inside was trapped there, the reapers constantly attacking anyone who got too close, ripping them to pieces like they'd done to Luce so many times before. He watched it for a moment on the protected side of the gate, contemplating, hesitating, before letting out a deep sigh and stepping right through.
The second he entered Hell, the scenery change. It was like a flood rushing through, wiping away the madness and dousing the fires, the molten lava hardening, the Hell reforming that Serah had seen day in and day out when she approached the gate.