Work Text:
The first time that Joe manned the interview room surveillance for Lucifer Morningstar, he honestly didn’t know what to expect. He’d gone back and watched the interview of Nick Hofmeister - everyone who had access had done it, after hearing how the man had charmed his way past two different officers to get in.
Hofmeister had been twitchy, sure, and oddly scared of Morningstar at first, but that didn’t really explain anything. Joe watched several more interviews, and while Morningstar clearly had some kind of hypnosis mojo that made people spill their guts, Joe didn’t see anything that would fit the rumors that he had put several people into the loony bin with a single look.
There were several times, however, when Morningstar had clearly done something more - well, scary, for lack of a better word - prompting the suspect to start babbling in fear instead of spilling their guts in lust or confusion. His face was never caught by the camera, but it was clear that Morningstar had a second kind of mojo that he used on worse offenders.
The first time that Lucifer’s eyes turned red, Joe thought it was a trick of the light, like the flash effect in photographs. That was the only logical explanation, obviously. Until he saw it happen a second time, and a third.
It was never aimed directly at the cameras; just a sideways hint or a reflection, but Joe was now pretty certain that Morningstar could somehow turn his eyes red. It certainly freaked out the suspects he worked on, but not quite insane-asylum-freaked. It fit right in with his earlier guess of a negative mojo, though, like a puzzle piece snapping into place. It probably wasn’t ethical to let him use either kind of mojo on their witnesses and suspects, but if Decker and the LT didn’t have a problem with it, who was Joe to complain?
After all, Joe knew the stats, and Decker had the best close rate in the department since Morningstar joined her. If it took a little freaky eye trick to get those scumbags to confess, well, they were getting what they deserved, as far as Joe was concerned.
The first time that Joe noticed more than the eyes, it was a barely-there reflection in the metal of the table, but it was far too big a red patch to just be his eyes. Joe puzzled over it for a while, but it kind of made sense. Morningstar claimed to be the Devil, after all, so it would fit if he had red eyes, red skin, horns, those kinds of things. Joe had never been a Believer, but he’d never really excluded the possibility.
He actually thought that the ancient aliens thing was the most likely, and if there were “god” aliens, it made sense that there might be “devil” aliens too. History was written by the winners, and a lot of bad men had won, in the past. It made sense that some alien or whatever who tried to punish them for their wrongs would then be demonized.
At least this devil appeared to be on their side.
And, at the end of the day, that was more than most people, Joe thought, looking around at the three empty chairs of the people who were supposed to help him in the recordings room before budget cuts took them away. At least Morningstar, unlike the politicians, was actually helping the LAPD. And without being paid, according to Hector in payroll, which was also something those fatcat politicians could learn from.
The first time that Joe saw Morningstar’s devil face full on, he was a little freaked out. It was one thing to know that the guy had a red face, but another thing to see it, all scarred and burned. Joe wondered if it hurt, and he actually felt a little bad for the guy. But then, the devil was supposed to be associated with fire, so maybe burns didn’t hurt him. It wasn’t like Joe was going to walk up to him and ask.
As the tape rolled, Morningstar slipped back into his usual face, and then grinned brightly. Over the suspect’s screams (and that face really clarified the whole loony bin thing), Morningstar walked to the door and called out in a sing-song, “Detective! I believe our peeping slasher has something he’d like to confess to you.”
If Joe had been scared of the man himself, that moment would have killed the thought stone dead. It was just impossible to fear a man who so gleefully called for the proper authority, like a puppy eager to show her what he’d found. (And if anyone deserved to have the literal Hell scared out of him, it was a peeping tom turned killer.) Morningstar often would celebrate his success or straighten his cuffs and hair after he used his devil face; it was impossible to hate or fear someone who was so vain and eager to please.
It didn’t take long for Joe to classify the ways that Morningstar used his powers. He used the desire thing and the bedroom eyes on just about everyone, which the detective, the LT, and several others seemed to know about. He only used his red eyes on those who confessed to something bad, which the LT also seemed to know about, and maybe Decker as well. And his face he used only on the worst of those. He wasn’t going ‘full red’ on jaywalkers, or suspects who revealed their alibi because of his desire thing. Morningstar might be a devil or an alien or whatever, but he had morals.
Eventually, even the red face didn’t even phase Joe; it just became one more thing to skim past when editing. Until the day that the rumor went around the precinct:
“Did you hear?” Rosa asked as Joe passed her in the break room.
“Hear what?”
“Lucifer Morningstar; he might be the actual devil,” she said, breathless with what appeared to be slightly more excitement than fear.
“Oh, that,” Joe grabbed the pot and filled his mug. “Yeah, I know.”
Rosa looked slightly confused, but honestly, Joe would be very surprised if he was the only one who didn’t already know. It was obvious, if you paid attention.