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God?
After eons of nothing but death requests and blasphemy, Lucifer had learned to stop the incoming prayers. He sealed the door tight shut and crossed it with so many locks as if he had no intention of opening it ever again. After all, no one would pray for something good to the Devil. Still, even when he was accepting prayers, a missent prayer was unheard of. How can there be one if the prayers were sent specifically to one entity?
So this? This felt like one big joke. First of all, his mind had been clean of those pestering prayers for so long. He made sure that none would come through. Second, the missent prayer is for his Dad that was definitely at the bottom of the list of people he wants to hear from. He isn't even sure if Dad would ever want to talk to him, considering eons of silence after his banishment from the Silver City.
Yes. Definitely a big joke from his Father.
After sending an equally big damn-You to Dad in the form of a gut-wrenching, monstrous cry, he wills to stop the prayer from disturbing him from another somewhat peaceful reign over Hell.
Hello, my name is Trixie.
His mind grows blank. A gasp escaped his lips as her little voice rings in his head. The voice is so clear as if she is standing right in front of him with her toothy grin and smiling eyes.
Um, I'm 10 years old. I like reading books.
Lucifer drops heavily on his throne in disbelief. The little spawn? An unpleasant feeling sits on his chest as he continues to listen.
Oh, maybe You know that already. My friend, Sarah, said you know everything. She also said that if she wants something she prays to You. Can You make sure Lucifer is safe? Mommy says he's going through some stuff so he had to go home and that home is a little less comfy like ours. That's all, I think. Bye, God.
Her voice fades, leaving him in silence with tears in his eyes. Tears that he doesn't bother to wipe even in the presence of these lowly demons if it means that he gets to be closer to what once was his.
The next prayer comes like the first. It knocks him off his feet and leaves that heavy feeling in his chest.
Sorry, God. I realized that You might not like Lucifer because his name is like the Devil.
That makes him chuckle. Only a child can string the words 'God' and 'Devil' in a single sentence with such innocence.
But my Lucifer is good, I swear! He's not scary like the Devil with horns and tail. He's really, really nice. He makes me and mommy laugh all the time. He's really good at Monopoly, but he gets himself bankrupt sometimes so that I can win. He makes the best chocolate cake --THE BEST. So, um, please take care of him? Thanks.
Ever since he returned to Hell, he had pushed all memories of his vacation on Earth into a box at the corner of his mind. Time, for him, was not a luxury but a curse. Humans can fade through time until the day they did not have to think any further in their death bed. Celestials have an eternity to carry the burden.
However, he indulges himself a little as he remembers their smiles so bright and radiant that has broken through the layers of dust and lint and slowly mend the pieces of his dark heart.
Mommy acts like normal, but I know she's been crying. Last night, I needed to go to the bathroom. I saw her crying in the living room. I heard her say "I miss you". I'm not sure for who, but I'm 90% sure it's for Lucifer. I miss him too. So much.
He never gave his wings much thought. Sometimes it felt like a curse from his Dad. Sometimes it reminded him of the gift bestowed upon him. Now, it meant freedom. Freedom from the shell of what he once was and from the coldness and darkness of Hell.
He indulges himself once more as he runs his fingers along the edge of the Pandora's box that lay at the corner of his mind. The wings he once loved and once hated stretched along his back. With a big flap, he lets his heart soar with emotions as he soared through the dark skies. He may be in Hell, but for a while it felt like he was in LA with the two beautiful Deckers watching movies, playing board games, and face-painting.
Like he was home.
Can You send him a message for me? I tried to text him, but mommy says he's busy so he might not see.
Hi, Lucifer! I hope you're doing fine at home. I used to be mad that you did not say goodbye, but mommy said you really had to get home.
The thought that he let the urchin down and that she was mad at him broke his already broken heart even more. Lucifer never liked children, but Trixie was.... Beatrice was not just any other child. She was just as special as the Detective.
Let's make a deal.
A laugh erupts from his lips with pride filling his chest. The spawn has really learned her lesson.
I'll forgive you, only if you promise that we're finally going to Disneyland once you come back.
And if he thought that his heart couldn't be broken any further, he was wrong.
When are you coming back? I miss you. Mommy misses you too.
I learned a new trick on the piano today! God, can You tell Lucifer that? I just started getting piano lessons. Did You know he plays the piano? He makes even mommy's playing sound so good. Don't tell mommy I said that. She's not that good compared to Lucifer.
The moment with the Detective flashes before his eyes. He remembers the way her hands trembled slightly as she played the notes one by one, peering at him bashfully with the knowledge that her skills were nothing compared to him. He remembers the way his heart constricted not in disbelief that she was absolutely horrible at playing the piano but in happiness that she had tried despite that because of his request. He remembers the way her lips pulled into a bright smile that lit up her face when he joined in, giving the melody more life and watching as she glowed by his side. That night, he decided that she was as bright as the stars that he had created. Perhaps even brighter and more beautiful than any of his creations.
Lucifer is super good, and I want to be as good as him. Can You also ask him when he's coming back so that I can show him?
For a moment, his heart literally stops. He tries so hard not to think of the implication of the spawn's piano lesson. The fact that she may have started playing the piano because somehow she longs to feel his presence. That she is still seeking his presence even though he just left them. He closes his eyes and allows himself to imagine the girl sitting beside him, her thighs pressed against his as she plays with him, her smile making him feel infinitely lighter.
His fingers moved to their own accord on the imaginary piano right in front of him, its sound filling his ears accompanying the loud cries of his heart.
It was one of those times when Hell was peaceful -- well, peaceful in Hell standards. All of the demons were busy playing with their humans, and none of them were trying to kill each other and trying to escape. Contrary to popular human belief, Lucifer now relishes these rare times of peace in Hell. It gives him time to get lost in his thoughts, to allow his surroundings to swallow him whole. Imagine that, Lucifer Morningstar was capable of meditation. Dr. Linda would be proud.
It's my first time baking today, and me and mommy made chocolate cake.
A moment of realization falls upon him because maybe this is part of the reason he started to enjoy peace in Hell. Peace allows him to feel and listen for the little spawn's voice, allowing the innocence and brightness of the child wash over him and making him feel good.
It's not that kind that you just add water. We really made a real cake with flour and stuff. It was a bit tricky, but it's so much better. Of course, Lucifer's is still the best. Mommy said we did a great job for a first try. Hey, Lucifer, maybe we can bake chocolate cake next time? You've got to tell me your recipe. Pleeeaaase! Can You tell him that, God? Tell him we have to bake together next time when he comes back.
The mention of his Father doesn't even faze him one bit. He would have scoffed back then, but now he barely even noticed it. How could he when all he hears is the roaring of blood in his ears? How can the child still want him back after disappearing without a word? How?
Or maybe he can come back during my birthday so that he can try the chocolate cake we made!
We're going to have a party at home. Everyone is going to be there! Of course, mom and dad are gonna be there. I'm sure Maze is finally going to give me my own cool knife. Dr. Linda and Uncle Amenadiel are gonna bring Charlie, I think. Seriously, everyone's gonna be there, Lucifer! You need to be there!
Hell is a dark cold place.
So dark that one can immediately notice even the smallest sliver of light. Lucifer definitely would, especially since this one is from the Silver City. The light comes from the skies of Hell. It grows larger and larger until he can make out a pair of wings. He doesn't need to see a face to know who is coming. The way he flies and the way his light makes him sick are enough. Anger curls in his stomach as he rises and unfurls his wings.
He is not welcome here. Not after he oh-so-blindly followed Father's orders and pushed Lucifer to this damned place.
"Don't you dare, Michael!," Lucifer growls, his irises burning red and hot with anger.
The figure doesn't stop at all. In fact, the archangel flies even faster. Lucifer stretches his wings wide, ready for a fight.
"Father wishes to send a message," Michael shouts back. Lucifer can clearly see his brother now. And all he sees is the same face that sneered at him when he was chained, the same hands that struck him down, the same wings that whipped around him. The words he uttered pushes his anger to rage. His cry grows monstrous as he wills the monster to take over, his skin boiling red with rage.
Lucifer growls. "And I do not wish to listen to His message."
"It's about your little humans."
No, he won't take the bait. He surges to meet the archangel in midair. The momentum of the first strike pushes Michael back. Lucifer pulls back for another strike. Bone crunches under his fist. He lets out another strike. One. Two. Three. Lucifer loses count as his blinding rage powers through. And it seems that Michael has no plan in fighting back at all. Then he starts to wonder what his intentions truly are -- what His are. At that exact moment, Michael finally moves to block one of his strikes.
"Ten."
There's something in his brother's bright blue eyes that makes Lucifer freeze. Is that disbelief that Dad had sent him down to Hell to do His bidding? Not that Lucifer can blame him, Hell isn't a nice place to be. But this is different. It runs deeper, almost as if he was doubting Dad's command.
"You get ten, Samael."
He feels the annoyance at the use of his old name, but the weight of his words crashes over him and hits him hard.
Ten human seconds.
See, time is a human construct. For humans, ten seconds are worth nothing.
For Lucifer, it was everything.
Lucifer, the bracelet was from you, right? It's so beautiful. I wished you stopped by for a while so that I can give you a big hug, and I won't let you go until you hug me back. But I get it! You're busy! I promise to give the present and the letter to mommy. Pinky promise! I also promise to never take the bracelet off. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you, I miss you!
Love. The familiar warmth of love blossoms in his chest.
He feels it pouring out of his dark heart as he sees the smiles on all of their faces, as he hears the Chloe's laugh ringing with Trixie's, as he replays the Trixie's words over and over again. And he feels it filling his dark heart. It reminds him of the Silver City, of his beloved creations, of an embrace that he had almost forgotten after eons.
The warm embrace of his Father.
Lucifer simply closes his eyes, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.