Chapter Text
One drunken bar night earlier…
Lucifer drifted through the crowds of Lux, enjoying the people dancing happily around him, unseeking of that as he was. There was only one woman whose attention he desired, and she was out tonight with the rest of the Tribe, no doubt discussing the celestial upheaval of their worlds (though he really did hope Maze would get her to loosen up and take in a few drinks for once).
But for him, tonight consisted of completing business for Lux – much as the task irritated him, it had to be done, and the sight of his thriving club made it all worth it.
It wasn’t long before he decided to retreat to the penthouse to finish. He had quite a few people eyeing him, their gazes lingering, something hungry and intense in them. He would have reveled in it once, but now it only made him… uncomfortable.
There was something different about tonight, an itch beneath his skin he couldn’t quite alleviate, but the elevator ride provided the space for his thoughts that he very much needed. With the thrumming bass muffled and the ability to drop the charming air that sometimes felt a little too forced, he felt like he could breathe once again.
His penthouse was just the sanctuary he was looking for, the taste of his quality whiskey never sweeter. With an inelegant collapse onto his couch, he sighed, too many things crowding his mind to focus on any one in particular. He still hadn’t figured out why his wings were back, not entirely. Nor what it could even mean. And Chloe had accepted his truth, well… much better than he had anticipated. Which was a good thing, of course – though only if he could convince his mind as such.
He kept wondering when she would really see the truth. When she would decide he was too much. When she would run. She saw a much more pleasant side of him, after all – her and Miss Lopez both. Sure, he was beginning to understand this was a part of him as well, that his wings still are a part of who he once was and even still now. Though wasn’t it only a matter of time before they saw the Devil in him?
He shook his head, there’s no use in walking down that endless path. But he couldn’t help the way his mind spiraled sometimes when he least expected it. He only wished that Chloe was beside him right now, because as much as he feared letting her get too close, to discovering who he is, to scaring her away, nothing could compare to the comfort her mere presence, a simple touch, could bring him. A peace and a belonging he had long since felt.
The sound of the elevator broke his musings, and he foolishly hoped for a minute that it was indeed Chloe returning just when he started to yearn for her presence the most – even though he knew it would probably be a long time before Tribe Night concluded. He couldn’t pull her away from that, she deserved the break, and he was honestly glad that the reveals, of all things, seemed to bring them all closer.
No, instead, he turned to face a man who’s wholly unfamiliar to him, stumbling out of the elevator with a sharp glare in his eyes.
Lucifer rolled his eyes. Figures, another drunk guest who couldn’t read that he wanted to be in his penthouse alone.
“You!” the man shouted as soon as his eyes landed on him, an accusing finger pointed towards the Devil. “I’m going to end you!”
More like deranged, apparently.
“Look,” Lucifer huffed. “I’m terribly sorry for whatever has you in this… mood, but you’d do well to know I’m not in the mood for whatever this is. I do apologize, but I’m sure there’s enough entertainment in Lux to keep you occupied.” He waved the man off, just about to return to his brooding when something caught his eye.
There was a glint of metal pulled from the man’s pocket, sharp edges reflecting the dim lights of the penthouse. Suddenly, his indifference is replaced by something stronger… something much, much stronger.
Within the span of a blink, Lucifer was up close to the man, shoving him back against the wall beside the elevator. “You dare bring a weapon to my home?” he growled, his voice reaching tones lower than any human voice should be able to. “My home?”
The unwelcome visitor squirmed within his hold, the Devil’s fingers entwined in the fabric of the man’s shirt, tight and unyielding. He’s scared, just for a moment, before it passes across his eyes, resolve taking its place. “I’ll never forgive you for what you did! Because of you and that detective, my brother’s stuck in prison for something that wasn’t even his fault!”
Lucifer had no idea to which case he’s referring, but frankly, it doesn’t quite matter. Because one mention of the Detective, of potential harm coming to her, had his blood boiling.
He could practically feel the anger bleeding from his veins, igniting every nerve. Every miniscule movement was perfectly calculated, every inch of his surroundings taken in by his senses. Lucifer only tightened his grip when he tried to break free, knife dropped and clattering to the ground, resounding loudly in the tense silence.
The man’s eyes finally revealed his terror, wide and struck still, breathing halted as he completely froze in his grip, like prey surrendering to its inevitable devouring.
There’s something familiar in the reaction, something pleasing, but Lucifer’s too overcome by the indomitable rush of emotions fueling his every breath to place it.
It’s only when the elevator dings once more, a man stepping out and revealing an all-too familiar face, casual indifference instantaneously twisted to an unsettling horror, that he recognizes it. Something that had been missing for far too long but was always a part of him, deep within his very being.
Dan stood there, frozen in fear, before the Devil in all his glory.
Things could not have possibly gone worse.
“Oh, bollocks.”