Chapter Text
The purr of the car’s engine and the comfortable seat combined with her own weariness would have been enough to put Trixie to sleep under any other circumstances. But it wasn’t the aches and pains, or even the leftover adrenaline that made it impossible to give in to the exhaustion. It was the fact that she was sitting next to a dark-haired stranger who was, in spite of all logic, evidently her sister. Her younger sister, no less.
“Rory?” she ventured.
“Hmm? What, T?”
“You really traveled through time? I didn’t know even angels could do that.”
“I didn’t either. I don’t think anybody did.”
Trixie shifted in the seat, trying to find a way to look directly at the other girl without twisting her neck too much. “Then what made you try?” she asked.
“I was really … I was … I felt so … lost. And I just started thinking about things, and getting mad at … the universe, and … I don’t even know. Something happened, and I found myself here … now. I wish I could explain it, but I really can’t.”
Trixie wanted to ask more, but she was having trouble thinking clearly. The pain medication they’d given her wasn’t helping. “Really my sister?” she mumbled.
Rory laughed. “Yeah, T. I really am.”
“Am I good sister?” she asked.
“The best,” said Rory. “Even if you never hide anything more exciting than chocolate.”
“Steal my chocolate?” Trixie asked, her eyelids feeling so heavy it was hard to keep Rory in focus.
“Do I steal your candy? You mean now? Or ever?” asked Rory, then smiled. “Both. Sorry. But I’m pretty sure Mom’ll get you more.”
Trixie made a little noise of agreement. Mom pretended she didn’t know about Trixie’s chocolate stash, but there had been a time or two that bars disappeared then reappeared later. She was pretty sure Mom had had chocolate cravings, then tried to cover her tracks. If Maze had taken it, she wouldn’t have bothered to be sneaky about it. Or replace it.
So many questions, she thought hazily. So many things she wanted to know. But she couldn’t concentrate, and the fatigue and trauma were finally winning out. She closed her eyes, but reached out a hand.
Rory wrapped her fingers around Trixie’s.
“Glad you’re my sister,” Trixie mumbled.
“And I’m glad you’re mine.”
Rory’s words were the last thing she was aware of until she felt herself being lifted out of the car. She made a vague protest, heard Lucifer say something soothing in response, and realized from the feel of his expensive jacket, the smell of his cologne, and the strength of the arms around her that he was the one carrying her.
She rested her head against his shoulder, let herself mostly fall back asleep, though she was dimly aware of the others talking quietly, of the ding of the elevator arriving at the penthouse. She made another half-hearted protest when Lucifer set her down, but quickly calmed when he stroked her hair and pulled a blanket up over her. She couldn’t quite manage a laugh, but smiled when he grumbled to himself about dirt on his sheets, removed the blanket so he could take off her shoes, then put the blanket back on.
Trixie woke up, blinking muzzily at what she first thought was thunder and a bright flash of lightning. But, though the sound ebbed, the light remained, coming from the other room. The exhaustion that had dragged her into sleep before stopped her from going to investigate, even though a part of her wanted to.
Raised voices in the other room ebbed in and out of her hearing as she wavered between sleep and consciousness.
“I’m going back.”
“Rory, no….”
“Just … give me your word that you won’t change anything. That you won’t change me.” A pause, where Trixie missed the response, though the tones were making her anxious. Then she heard Rory again, sounding sad, but resigned. “I was so angry before, but I’m not … not angry anymore.”
Lucifer’s voice: “No. Please don’t go. Please don’t do this.”
“I’m sorry. It has to be this way, Dad. So please.”
Trixie, really worried now, tried to push herself up, groaned at the renewed pain in her shoulder.
Rory was speaking again. “I know you can’t lie. So please, promise me,” she implored. “Give me your word.”
Another crash of thunder boomed through the penthouse, but oddly this time it felt as if it brought peace rather than chaos. Trixie fell back onto the pillow, closed her eyes, the worry and pain fading away. Strangely, she could see what was happening, see Amenadiel—now God—in his spotless white robes, see him consoling Mom and Lucifer and Rory, telling them that what they feared must happen didn’t have to. That he could break the loop. She watched the joy and sorrow and relief that came with Rory’s goodbye, but this time to a better future, where Lucifer didn’t have to leave them to grow up without him.
As Amenadiel disappeared, Trixie heard his voice in her head, saying, “All will be well, I promise. I will see you tomorrow. Sleep.”
She woke again, a little later, as she felt her mom climbing into the bed next to her. She must have made a sound, because Mom reached around to hug her gently. She sighed.
“Come on, Lucifer,” said her mom, softly. “You need to sleep, too.”
“I don’t want to disturb the urchin,” he said.
Trixie had just enough energy to raise her hand in his direction, palm open in invitation.
She couldn’t see him smile, but somehow, she felt it. He took her hand, gave it a squeeze. When he would have let go, she tightened her grip. He gave a low, pleased laugh, settled himself in next to her and her mom, keeping hold of her hand.
“There,” said her mom. “Now we’re all here together.”
“So we are,” said Lucifer. “Even if Rory is a bit smaller.”
Trixie’s mom giggled. “A bit. But we’re all here. After all this. Family.”
“Family,” echoed Lucifer, a note of wonder in his voice.
“Shh,” said Trixie, and smiled when she heard smothered laughter.
Her family might be missing parts, it might be strange, and it certainly was different from most, but it was good. Like her mom said, after all this….
She could have worried about the dreams to come, worried that the memories swirling in her brain would return in nightmares. She could have felt like crying herself to sleep, mourning again the loss of her dad, or missing the sister she’d barely met before she left. But instead, with the softness of Lucifer’s pillow, the smooth silk on her cheek, and the warmth of her mom’s arm around her, Lucifer’s hand holding hers, the echo of Amenadiel’s words, she knew she would sleep peacefully.
And she knew she would wake to a day full of possibilities.