Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The room is a deathly kind of quiet, the silence only broken by short, harsh breathing.

"Brother, don't make me do this." Lucifer says softly, inevitability behind his eyes.

"No one makes us do anything." Gabriel says simply. He's still carrying that futile shred of hope that Lucifer can be redeemed.

Lucifer looks at him, something shimmering in his eyes. Gabriel refuses to believe it's regret. "I know you think you're doing the right thing, Gabriel," His voice is barely a whisper, yet Gabriel hears him loud and clear. "but I know where your heart truly lies."

The real Gabriel, having snuck up behind Lucifer, raises his blade silently, preparing to strike. When it's angled correctly, Gabriel brings it down hard-

Before he knows what's happening, Gabriel's blade is buried in his own stomach, angled up towards his heart. Gabriel gasps in pain. Wide, disbelieving eyes meet cold, resigned ones.

"Here," Luci finishes with a whisper.

Lucifer looks back over his shoulder for a moment, just long enough to see the fake Gabriel fade away, its expression frozen in the same shock that has the real Gabriel locked in place. Lucifer raises a hand to support Gabriel's head, an almost affectionate move. Gabriel is choking, suffocating in his own blood, trying to form words, or maybe a scream. He can't think through the all-too-human rush of blood in his ears.

Lucifer hadn't doubted himself for a moment, calm and assured. He knew just as well as Gabriel that this was a pointless fight.

"Amateur hocus pocus. Don't forget," Lucifer mutters, "you learned all your tricks from me, little brother."

Lucifer yanks out the sword and Gabriel screams, his Grace lighting up the room as it drains out of his vessel. The world shakes for a single moment.

Then Gabriel's vessel sinks to the floor, no longer propped up by the blade. The Devil steps away from his brother's lifeless body, breathing hard in the unnatural silence of the room.

-and Gabriel gasps for air. He's greeted by stale city air and spent fuel, but Gabriel welcomes it gladly.

He doesn't need the air, but so long spent pretending made it an instinct to breathe, and for an agonizingly long moment just then, he couldn't.

He wasn't supposed to wake up. That's something he knows, clearer than anything else in his head. He's supposed to be dead. Lucifer... Lucifer really did kill him.

Even after everything, he didn't think Luci would.

Gabriel takes slower breaths, and looks around. It's nighttime and the street is nearly empty, beside the occasional car. Gabriel is lying on the sidewalk in the shadow of a building. There are some trees and a bed of water beside the urban street. Good for you, random eco-friendly country. Why did he end up outside of America? Why was he moved anywhere?

The pavement beneath him isn't red. He's not bleeding out. His vessel doesn't even feel bruised, and it's dissonant, it doesn't line up with what he knows is true.

What does Dad expect him to do here?

The only way he'd be saved from an Archangel blade to the chest is by Dad, and Dad doesn't save his children unless he needs something from them.

Gabriel feels it, the fundamental change in the world, even while still reeling from waking up. This isn't the universe he helped create. He couldn't be farther away from Lucifer if he tried, and that settles him enough to think.

The Host feels different as well. He doesn't know every angel by name, but he knows all of them by their voice. After millenia of blocking out the same voices whispering in the back of his mind, the ones that are unfamiliar to him pierce through his head like they're shouting. There are some others he recognizes still, but there aren't meant to be any new voices. There were never meant to be new angels after the first war. It's more than unsettling.

He'd traveled the multiverse before, but Gabriel never spent long away from home, despite every instinct that he developed over the years that told him to run.

It takes raw energy to be able to travel between universes. If his Grace is in this state... He should not have gotten here. He shouldn't even be alive.

His Grace is damaged and depleted, and he isn't going to be at full power anytime soon. At least it's not getting worse.

It should be, it should be leaking out of his vessel like a broken pipeline, slowly killing him and everything around him. Somehow, it's not doing that. The wound itself is gone, his Grace scarred over unnaturally.

That means the other celestial beings here shouldn't notice him. Not yet. It'll keep him alive for a little while longer.

Gabriel's thoughts drift back to Lucifer and he immediately decides he'll deal with that later. Or, you know, never.

Gabriel finally moves to sit up, carefully, and he pauses in surprise when he feels no pain. His Grace aches--it pulses in time with the beating heart of his vessel. His vessel itself is fine, though. The mismatch feels awfully weird.

Gabriel gets up and dusts himself off, decidedly not thinking about how impossible it is for him to be here. First order of business is finding out where 'here' is. Deciding on his next course of action can come after.

His surroundings look familiar. Then again, that doesn't tell him anything, since he's been just about everywhere on Earth over the past few centuries alone.

After a while of wandering around and seeing signs like 'Huissen 4' and 'Arnhem-Zuid 3', which told him absolutely nothing except that most languages look exactly the same, Gabriel decided to just fly wherever the hell he wanted to go. Screw Dad, if He wanted Gabriel to do something here he should've made it clear. Dropped him in the middle of a conflict or something. At least then he'd have something to do.

Where to go...

His first instinct is Las Vegas, his new favorite haunt this century. He's not keen on seeing it changed, though. It won't be the Vegas he knows.

He searches for a newspaper.

The newspaper's global news section is small, but one article in particular catches his eye. The Weaponizer, a fancy title for some famous actor in Los Angeles, has been murdered.

The city of angels. He's been avoiding it for centuries. While his siblings don't tend to linger on Earth, visiting the city of angels while in witness protection would just be asking for dramatic irony to bite him in the ass.

He's not in witness protection anymore, though. He might as well be dead. And he's always wanted to visit Los Angeles.

A city filled with unsolved crime and nightlife. What more could he want?

While Gabriel is stuck here with no clue what he's supposed to do, he can always default to what he's been doing for millenia. Feast.

An instant later, he's face-down on a grit-covered rooftop in Los Angeles, screaming.

"Fuck!" When he manages to cut off the scream, Gabriel breaks into a stream of multilingual curses instead. That cuts off too with a hiss when another bolt of pain shoots through his wings. He curls into himself, hunched over his arms. They barely kept him from literally eating dirt when he landed.

"Okay," he pants out loud, forming words through the haze over his mind. "Bad idea. Very bad idea."

It's his damaged Grace. The conclusion he comes is resigned. Why did he think it would be a good idea to fly? Just because his Grace isn't actively draining out of him doesn't mean he can use it the same way he always has.

He did get to LA, but that's beside the point.

He simply lies there for a few moments as aftershocks of pain make his vessel twitch, despite there being nothing wrong with it.

When the pain fades to a dull ache, Gabriel carefully lifts himself up to look at the bustling city. He brushes specks of grit off his sleeves absent-mindedly.

It's late afternoon, judging by the sweltering heat of the sun, which he can only be thankful for. The noise of the afternoon crowds had drowned out his screams.

He'd originally planned to use any rooftop as perch and find a discreet alley to fly to, but now that seems like a less good idea.

Luckily, there's an exit on the roof he'd landed on. It looks like Gabriel landed on an apartment building, away from the true commercial center of Los Angeles, but still deep enough into the city for the streets to get crowded.

Sneaking downstairs is demoted to simply walking halfway through, when Gabriel finally gets his mind wrapped around the fact that there are no surveillance cameras at all.

He's somewhat incredulous at the lack of security. This is Los Angeles, people are robbed and murdered here non-stop!

Shaking his head, Gabriel makes his way out of the building and into the chaotic herd of humans.

And if a few hours later the landlord of that particular building is surprised by a non-native grizzly bear breaking through his own top-of-the-line security, Gabriel doesn't know anything about it.

Chapter Text

Lucifer Morningstar is annoyed.

He's been following the Detective around all day on the most boring case of his rather lengthy life. No action, barely any lies and deceit, not even a creative murder.

If you're going to murder someone, at least make it original, Lucifer reasons. Plain old murder is so mainstream now.

"Detective, is this truly necessary?" He asks again, not bothering to hide his impatience.

"You're seriously asking if it's necessary to find a killer?" Chloe sighs, not looking back at Lucifer. She walks with purpose towards the office, where one of the suspects is currently being interrogated.

"Well that is our job, isn't it Detective, but I meant if this going from door to door like a cookie selling girl scout is necessary. Surely we can just apprehend the killer already?"

This time, the Detective does turn her head to him and slows her pace. "Of course, I'm sorry, I was under the impression that we first needed to identify the criminal, but apparently I was wrong."

Lucifer huffs incredulously. "It's rather obvious, isn't it?"

The Detective just gives him a dry look.

"It's the cook!" he finally exclaims, exasperated, the 'duh' unspoken but clearly implied.

Chloe raises her eyebrows skeptically, but they've just entered the office now and her attention is caught by several greetings. She seems to have put their conversation aside for the moment as she marches brusquely to the interrogation chamber. She doesn't have time to indulge Lucifer's whims.

"-just tripped over it!" is the first thing Lucifer hears when he enters the observation room.

"Oh really," the interrogating agent comments skeptically. He doesn't sound tired yet, so they must not have been in there for long. "Care to explain again what you were doing on private property, sir?"

The man opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted by the officer speaking again. "And, for that matter, why you don't exist in any of our records?"

Lucifer looks on, slightly more interested now. The short man is leaning back in his seat with his shoes on the table, looking relaxed and at home, even as he argues with the officer.

"First off all," the suspect takes his hand from behind his head to hold up a finger, "I was lost. Second," he holds up another finger, "I just flew in from Europe, I doubt I'd be in your criminal database."

"We took you through facial recognition, Mr Novak." The officer corrects. "You aren't in any of our databases, nor the Los Angeles airport's. You have no ID. I'm afraid you're not walking away from this so easily."

Lucifer's lips curl into something resembling a smile. "Nonexistent." He murmurs, pleased to finally have a mystery. "The most interesting thing I've seen all day. Or well, not seen." He chuckles at his own horrible joke, and Chloe rolls her eyes.

The absence of data in itself is not too interesting, but the man lounging in that chair, there's something about him that feels familiar to Lucifer.

"He's calling himself Gabriel Novak." Chloe informs her partner after skimming the file filled with pen corrections. She keeps half an eye on the other room. "No ID, no plane ticket, and according to the system he doesn't exist. He's not giving us anything either, seems like."

"Well, like I said it's the cook, but I've found a far better case, I believe." Lucifer looks at the man--Gabriel--thoughtfully.

Then, ignoring Chloe's exasperated, "Don't interrupt the-," he makes for the door to the interrogation chamber.

"Hello there!" He interrupts, shutting the door behind him.

Gabriel freezes when the stranger entered the room, his amused smile slipping off his face as he realizes he's been made. The Grace of the angel standing before him is a lot wilder, a lot less controlled than he's used to, but it's unmistakable.

He'd been too focused on messing with the humans, he wasn't looking for anyone on his tail. He thought he'd have time.

All angels' Grace is unique. It has a certain taste-texture-tone to it that no other angel can match. Gabriel knows many of his siblings by Grace alone. The man standing before him is absolutely, undoubtedly Lucifer.

"Let's skip the chit chat and get straight to how you murdered that poor woman in cold blood." Lucifer comments, smiling pleasantly.

Gabriel takes a few even breaths to compose himself. This is not his Lucifer, this is not the brother who stabbed him in the heart. The Grace is not the same, even if it feels the same at a glance. The differences are obvious.

Gabriel puts his confident smirk back on, making sure it doesn't waver a bit. His response has an edge to it this time, no matter how playfully mocking he tries to make it. "You know, I would, but strangely enough I don't have any memories of killing her. I'm so sorry."

The agent that was interrogating him looks on, bothered but allowing Lucifer to take the lead.

"Oh, really?" Lucifer leans down until they're face to face, and looks at Gabriel like a predator watching their prey. "Why were you there, if not to kill her? What did you desire?"

The words are laced with Grace, a sweet poison that would've affected mortals, Gabriel notices. This guy expects it to work on him too, clearly. Should he play along?

Gabriel packed his Grace up extra tight as soon as he recognized another angel, a long-standing habit, but he's not sure if it was fast enough. He's usually better about seeing threats coming. Yet, still, this Lucifer is treating him like a mortal. There's still some hope here that he wasn't recognized.

He decides to frown, slightly curious, slightly confused. He doesn't know what's expected of him. "What I desire...?" He taps his lower lip with his finger, like he's thinking.

"Ooh, a complicated one, aren't you?" Lucifer is about to speak again, but another officer enters the room and pulls him to the side. They discuss quietly, and Gabriel doesn't try to listen in but he catches something about a new lead anyway. He could swear Lucifer is pouting as he's led from the room, and Gabriel relaxed slightly, amused. It's another reminder that this Lucifer is very different to his own.

Gabriel switches to standard non-answers when the other officer continues with the pointless questions, no longer interested in messing with him, and curses the whole chain of events that lead him here.

He'd just wanted to test out flying again, see if it got more bearable with time like most things did. He hadn't planned to fall into some massive backyard and trip over a dead woman.

Gabriel would be lying if he said he had a plan for what he's going to do now.

After standing up for something--fighting for an ideal, doing something for once in his life, and look where that got him--just continuing his Trickster career seems lacking. Justice is all well and good, but he's been doing that job for ages. He's getting tired of searching out the worst parts of humanity.

Nevermind figuring out how he's going to keep this world's celestial beings off his tail.

He's snapped out of his thoughts by a hand waving in front of his face. The hand is removed and the irritated face of his would-be interrogator appears in sight. At some point he must've stopped answering questions.

"It would be in your best interest-" Gabriel looks away, bored, and the other growls. "Look, buddy, just cooperate here. We have enough to hold you for a while."

"No you don't." Gabriel simply says. The officer--Gabriel should really pay attention to people's introductions--raises his eyebrows.

"Yes, we do."

Gabriel leveled him with an intense stare, and the human seemed to shudder under it. "No, you don't." he repeats, a tiny bit of Grace leaking into his words.

The other gets a glazed look to his eyes, slowly nodding in agreement. There's an annoyed twist to his mouth as he admits, "We have nothing to hold you on. You're free to go, sir."

Gabriel nods in satisfaction, moving his feet off the table and standing up with a grin. His movements are slow and deliberate. "Thank you, darling, I knew you'd come around."

He playfully blows the confused man a kiss over his shoulder as he walks out of the door, past all the cluttered desks and straight out of the building. Mortals are so gullible. Gabriel can't believe he needed Lucifer to remind him of that.

Chapter Text

"-and he just, he just gets up and walks away!" the confused man exclaims, now sitting on the other side of the interrogation table.

"And you let him?" Chloe presses. She has to know. Detective Lowder is a trusted co-worker, there has to be more to this than him just letting the suspect go.

They've gotten back from investigating a dead end, which Lucifer complained about thoroughly, only to find the office in chaos searching for the missing suspect.

"Were you sleeping with the guy--Gabe, was it?" Lucifer asks casually from the side. Chloe almost jumped at her partner's voice. For all his shenanigans, it's very easy to forget that he's there.

Chloe composes herself and nods as indication for the detective in front of her to answer.

"Wha- no!" Detective Lowder looks aghast. "I've never seen this man before he was brought in today, I swear."

Then, after a short pause, "There's something he said, something that made me let him go, but it's all a bit fuzzy. I think I could have been drugged. That's sure what it felt like."

He says it slowly, uncertain, like he's scared they'll call him a liar. He's unmarked, after all, and wouldn't eat or drink anything while interrogating. It's against protocol.

Chloe throws a sharp look at Lucifer, who looks back, not understanding. Chloe pulls him out of the interrogation room, pausing outside the door.

"Someone you know?" she says quietly, lowering her voice to make sure the suspect--and god, the suspect right now is her co-worker, what is happening--doesn't overhear.

Lucifer frowns in confusion. "I'm sorry, Detective?"

"I've seen the look in people's eyes when you do your mojo-thing," she reminds him. "It's like they're compelled to tell you things, like they're drugged."

Still no realization in her partner's eyes. Damn it, Lucifer.

"The one who taught you that. Is it possible they've taught others, as well?"

There it is, realization. Then comes the denial, Chloe can see what he's going to say before Lucifer opens his mouth, but then he stops himself.

"Actually, you might be onto something, Detective." Lucifer replies thoughtfully, walking past her without another word.

Chloe sighs with frustration. He always does this, instead of answering her questions he walks off to do his own investigating without even telling her what he's thinking. She can chase after him, but he won't bother to fill her in either way until he's found whatever he's looking for. Worst police consultant ever.

"Detective Lowder," she greets, sitting down again across from her co-worker. "Just a few more questions."

Gabriel strolls the streets of Los Angeles, basking in the sun, whirling a constructed lollipop in his mouth. He wonders what the hell he's going to do about this.

Since the police are after him--as a suspect in the first case that he actually had nothing to do with, irony really does hit at the worst times--he'd normally just fly out of the city, but as he found out just before he tripped over that dead body, using his wings has been an endlessly bad idea. Gabriel winces at the memory.

He still catches himself moving carefully, not making any sudden movements while he walks, even though his vessel is fine and nothing his vessel does will aggravate the wound in his Grace. It's an instinct he can't quite shake.

So he can't fly out, and public transport like the plane he claimed he came in on would only let law enforcement chase him. He really didn't think this escape through.

It's just... Lucifer. He doesn't want to be anywhere near Lucifer, ignorant alternate version or not. So maybe he hadn't been thinking clearly, so what? It was boring in the police station. He's glad to be out.

The next bar he sees, Gabriel enters with barely a pause. He needs a drink.

A few hours later finds him once again lamenting the fact that he can't get drunk no matter how hard he tries--he spends time in bars for the gossip and the fun, not for the alcohol.

It's not as fun, surprisingly, when Gabriel is trying to ignore the feeling of vulnerability that comes with damaged, nearly non-existent Grace. He's considering asking the bartenders for holy water--demon bars tend to have some around for crazy challenges, don't ask him how he knows, and it would actually do something if not necessarily make him drunk.

This isn't strictly a demon bar, it's filled with mortals, but it's worth asking the demon bartender, right?

He's debating the pros and cons when his enhanced hearing catches a familiar voice on the other side of the bar. This time he had felt the whirling Grace approaching on the edges of his awareness. He hasn't let his guard down since the police station. He didn't think it would enter the bar, though.

"Figured I'd find you here, brother. This seems to be your favorite place nowadays," a British voice chuckles. "I'm a bit offended, to be honest, is my club not good enough for you?"

What the hell are the chances of Alternate Lucifer stopping for a drink in the same bar Gabriel was in? With his brother no less, who Gabriel can't even sense. He doesn't dare reach further with his Grace, sure that if he looks too closely they'll notice it.

"You know as well as I do that Lux isn't my kind of place, Lucifer." The brother answers. Gabriel blocks out the other sounds in the bar subconsciously, focusing on their conversation alone.

"Come now, Amenadiel," Lucifer grins, "don't tell me you don't like the attention of my... employees."

Gabriel hears Amenadiel sigh. "I know you didn't come here to criticize me on my choice of bar, Luci, so tell me what you want from me."

Amenadiel isn't a name Gabriel knows, but he must be high-ranked if he's daring to call the Devil a nickname. One of Hell's commanders, maybe. It's weird that Gabriel can't sense anything if he's supposed to be that powerful.

"Only to ask a few questions." At Lucifer's next words, the smirk is gone from his tone. "When did you last see our brother, Gabriel?"

"Gabriel?" Amenadiel sounds surprised, while Gabriel silently curses. Of course it's about him. "A few decades ago, at most. Why?"

"And he was still the same snob as he's always been, yes?" Lucifer ignores Amenadiel's question, for now.

"Yeah, absolutely. He kept going on and on about how annoying mortals were..." Amenadiel chuckles wryly. "If he could see me now."

There's a short silence between the two, and Gabriel tries to figure out what they're talking about. Angels can become mortal, but Fallen Angels that had turned into demons shouldn't be able to. Would Lucifer actually be consorting with an angel? Even if it's one that has no access to Heaven anymore...

"What is this about, brother?" Amenadiel asked abruptly. "Why are you so interested in Gabriel all of a sudden?"

"I think one of our other siblings is using his name to wander Earth. Why, though, I have no idea."

Gabriel can't help but feel a bit offended at that. Please, like he would ever steal someone else's...

Okay, alternate Luci may have a point. Still, though!

They know his name, they probably know his Grace by now, and Lucifer seems awfully determined to find him. Gabriel does his best not to shiver at that thought. There's only one way to regain some control of this situation.

He throws some money onto the counter to cover the drinks he barely tasted, and wanders towards the back of the bar.

He's established that this Lucifer is nothing like the one that stabbed him, and he doesn't fancy being on the run from them forever. This is worth a try.

When he's finally maneuvered his way through the busy bar, a confident smirk slides onto Gabriel's face. He finds that it comes easier now than at the police station. He's in his element.

"I would say it's rude to talk about someone behind their back, but I'm the one standing behind you, so I think I'll keep my mouth shut."

Lucifer turns around with a smile. "Speak of the me! How are you, Mr Suspect On The Run?"

"Hey, they let me out fair and square," Gabriel protests. "I wasn't arrested, how can I be on the run?"

"True enough," Lucifer says, a glint in his eye that Gabriel doesn't like. "Mind telling us who exactly you are, 'Gabriel Novak'?"

"Sure." Gabriel shrugs. The surprise is sharp in the other two's Grace, even though both Lucifer and Amenadiel keep a straight face. "This might take some time, though, and preferably some space. So I say kidnap me like one of your French girls."

There's an awkward silence, and Gabriel sighs. "That's code for me and you two going to your place."

Amenadiel finally breaks the silence. "For the record, I don't usually kidnap French girls."

Now it's Gabriel's turn to stare. Lucifer wiggles his eyebrows. "Usually, eh?"

"Shut up, Luci." Amenadiel rolls his eyes like he's used to this. Gabriel would question it more, but his eyes are still locked on Amenadiel's form. He's seeing it for the first time up close.

"Wow," he says with a weak grin, eyeing his alternate brother. "You look terrible. What, Heaven didn't agree with you?"

It sounds less self assured than he would've liked, but it's hard to take his eyes off the train wreck that is Michael's Grace, or what little remains of it.

It's not like a Fallen Angel, not deliberately mutilated or ripped apart. It isn't healing, though. It's in worse shape than even Gabriel's Grace, and Gabriel just got stabbed in the heart yesterday. He doesn't want to think about how Michael's Grace got that injured.

"Thanks," Michael--no, Amenadiel here, Amenadiel--says dryly. He's already standing up. "Let's not make this about me. Go on, then, I'm sure Lucifer has a car around here somewhere."

Lucifer is looking between the two of them with interest. Gabriel thinks he's going to add something, but Amenadiel grabs him by the shoulder and starts dragging him away, trusting Gabriel to follow on his own.

He's straight up man-handling the Devil. Gabriel tries not to look too incredulous. It's Michael, there's no doubt it's Michael, no other angel would be as comfortable with Lucifer as he obviously is.

With something like grief rising in his throat, Gabriel trails behind the two. This is nothing like his own universe. Did the war not happen here? Does that mean there was actually a way for them to get along, the four Archangels, and Gabriel just left instead of finding it?

He can't stand that thought. He's mulled over what-ifs for too long, and it never fixes anything. No matter how he looked at it, Heaven's situation would always end the same way.

Yet somehow, in this universe, his siblings are siblings again.

He could've had this.

He shoves the thought out of his mind as he follows them to an illegally parked car, but the sharp sense of loss lingers.

Chapter Text

A short car ride later, in which Lucifer relishes in the awkward silence, they enter Lux's staff area--also known as Lucifer's penthouse. Gabriel acts as though he hasn't even noticed the looks directed at him.

Gabriel doesn't pick up on the serious undertone, whistling at the grand space. "Who'd you sleep with to get a place like this in Los Angeles?" he comments with another grin. Those are starting to visibly annoy Amenadiel.

Lucifer, however, can tell there's something more intent behind that smile. A look he can't place. A flash of... something bigger, hidden behind amber eyes. He doesn't answer the rhetorical question, which he might have in any other situation.

"So, which one of our siblings are you?" Lucifer asks casually, pouring some drinks. He has a feeling he'll need some for this.

"The younger one," 'Gabriel' answers without much ado, leaning against the wall. He graciously accepts a glass.

"We're the two oldest siblings, be a bit more specific," Lucifer advises. "Why would you ever want to use an alias like Gabriel?"

He's genuinely bewildered, and he's sure that bleeds through.

"Ouch," 'Gabriel' says playfully, grinning at them.

"Ha, ha." Lucifer's words are dry. "Surely there are less worrisome identities to steal."

'Gabriel' stares at them for a second before sighing and shaking his head. "Your Gabriel really is a jerk, isn't he?"

"Absolutely." Amenadiel doesn't hesitate.

Lucifer immediately follows with, "Had a stick up his celestial ass since the first millenia."

Gabriel grimaces. "Wow. Sorry I asked."

Amenadiel raises an eyebrow at Gabriel, then turns that same expression to Lucifer. Lucifer simply keeps watching 'Gabriel'.

He looks at Amenadiel like he's the eighth wonder of the world, whenever he thinks Amenadiel isn't paying attention. Lucifer could almost get jealous.

Despite his careless tone, despite his carefully chosen words, Lucifer can see 'Gabriel' slowly relaxing with each response. It's as if he was looking for something, and every moment he doesn't find it reassures him.

"You haven't answered," Lucifer prompts, sipping his whiskey.

For a moment Gabriel contemplates how to phrase it in a way that makes it believable, but he gives it up soon enough. There is none. He's not going to risk using his Grace again to prove a point.

He does, against all of his instincts, loosen his hold on it. He stops hiding it so fiercely.

"I am actually the Archangel Gabriel, but I'm new in town. Hopped universes, however unintentionally."

Lucifer and Amenadiel look at him with narrowed eyes, scrutinizing him like they're seeing him for the first time. They don't look at all ready to take him at his word. Gabriel stares them down.

"... The what-angel?" Lucifer asks.

Gabriel chokes on his whiskey, sputtering for a second. "Excuse me?"

His voice is hoarse. He's glad he doesn't actually need to breathe.

"Archangel, you said," Amenadiel reminds him, as if Gabriel doesn't know what he just said. "That's a... new term."

"... Oh," Gabriel says, revising a few things in his head. "Huh. Well, shouldn't matter. I'm probably the same rank as your own Gabriel."

Amenadiel doesn't look like that clears anything up for him. He mouths the word 'rank' to himself in confusion.

Gabriel wasn't prepared for this. He realizes quickly that he has no idea just how big the differences between their universes are.

"He is telling the truth," Lucifer comments, "for the record."

Amenadiel takes his brother at his word, not even questioning how Lucifer knows. Gabriel shakes his head in disbelief.

Lucifer levels a long look out of the window, to the darkening sky.

"Another brother here on earth," Lucifer says with a sigh, before knocking back his whiskey. He places the empty glass on the piano with a careless thud. "That's what it boils down to, isn't it?"

They've all heard the multiverse theory before, and although God was pretty vague about it, He had mentioned it Himself a few times. That usually means it's true, but this is God, so who knows. This isn't much of a shock. A problem, however? Probably.

There's a short moment of silence. Gabriel uses it to continue.

"Since I'm now stuck here--you probably want to avoid an unsolvable crime spree, and I would like to not be run down by the police." When the two look at him, not understanding, he elaborates. "You're this earth's supernatural ticket sellers. So what do you say, sell me out to your buddies with the blue hats or permission to stay?"

"Hold on," Amenadiel puts up a hand, "just to be clear, we're the what?"

"Supernatural ticket sellers." Gabriel repeats. "You can hunt me for 'daring to enter your city' or you can allow me to stay, peacefully."

"And," Lucifer interrupts before his brother cam open his mouth again, "what does an 'unsolvable crime spree' entail, exactly?"

Gabriel grins like a shark. He isn't going back to that kind of life, he sacrificed the Trickster alias like others before it. He probably doesn't even have the mojo to pull it off right now. But these two don't need to know that.

"Right." Lucifer looks intrigued at the borderline feral grin, and continues. "There's an open building down the street, actually. Nobody wants it because it's 'haunted'." He scoffs. "You'd get it basically for free."

Oh, good, that's a 'letting him stay' option, then.

"That dull building a bit away, with all the empty space?" Gabriel cocks his head. "We drove past it, and I didn't sense any spirits then. Probably mortal imagination. Nocebo effect and all that shit."

Amenadiel frowns. "Sense them?"

Gabriel looks at him like he's being slow. "Yes, sense. You know, how you generally find..."

He cut himself off mid sentence, looking them over. His eyes widen. "Oh." He breathes, processing. "You don't- That's why-"

Gabriel, The Silver-Tongued Trickster, is for once at a loss for words. That's why they didn't recognize his Grace, didn't even react when he stopped hiding it a few minutes ago. That's why their Grace is so wild and all over the place.

They don't even know it exists. They can't sense Grace.

This can be milked.

Gabriel feels a smirk slowly form on his face, and he relishes in the wary looks that gets him. Without knowing their own Grace, they can't know how to access many of their powers. If the oldest two are like this, presumably all angels in this universe are like fledglings compared to his own family.

For the first time in days, maybe weeks, Gabriel relaxes. They can't do anything to him, no matter how spent and damaged his own Grace is at the moment. They've obviously figured some things out, going by how Lucifer tried to compel him back at the station, but nothing about their Grace is controlled.

Those sparse powers they've found on their own would be the only noticeable difference between angel and fallen. And if those powers suddenly disappeared, due to, say, whatever the fuck happened to Amenadiel-

He's not cruel. He needs this advantage, but even after everything, Gabriel is too attached to his family to let them suffer for no reason. He can do Michael a little favor.

Gabriel turns his gaze to Amenadiel. The latter tries not to lean back at the eerie grin that's directed at him. Their sibling knows something that they don't, and that makes him dangerous.

"You think you fell, right?" Gabriel addresses him, then continues quickly, not giving him time to answer. "That Dad punished you for something? Don't worry. He didn't."

And he turns and disappears.

The rush of wings--invisible wings--leaves the pair of siblings with only more question and uncertainty.

"There's something off about him, brother." Lucifer comments thoughtfully. "Something happened in that universe of his, and it changed everything we know. We're going to find out what."

"Damn right we are." Amenadiel agrees. He needs to find out why this... other Gabriel thinks he hasn't fallen.

'Other Gabriel', for his part, is choking back a scream of agony in a back alley not far from Lux, repeatedly cursing his need for dramatic exits.

"Ugh," He groans when the burning ebbs away a bit, rolling onto his back to look at the gray skies. Thank fuck for metaphysical wings that don't interact with the material plane. "What, Dad, you couldn't put me in Hell so instead you found another?"

There's no bite to his words. Just resignation. Gabriel knows this isn't supposed to be his hell. He knows his hell, it's called Heaven.

This is something else. What, though, he'll just have to stick around to find out.

Chapter Text

One hour after his painful departure from Lux, and with a tiny application of Grace, Gabriel gets himself a home.

The place is empty and dusty and spookfree--he checked that. Just to be sure.

It's an apartment above a shop, both lifeless. He was only really aiming for the apartment, but it's simpler to get the package deal, and the real estate agent was so eager to give it to him at a discount.

His Grace feels depleted to the point that he's putting in more mojo than usual, but an Archangel's Grace is still disproportionately powerful against these poor humans. He'll need to account for that in the future.

He'll see what to do with that shop later. Right now he needs some rest. He feels drained, the transferring of previously non-existent money having taken more out of him than he thought it would.

He wrangles with finding the right key for the upstairs door. He almost gives in and simply unlocks the door, but he decides against it at the last moment. Better not to push himself if he wants to stay functional.

He's rewarded a few seconds later when one of the keys finally fits. Gabriel pushes open the door. He stumbles a bit with the movement, and realizes suddenly that he'd grossly underestimated his exhaustion.

He's not used to needing rest.

The place is unkept and old, but it's furnished, and it has a nice open plan. The windows are big with plenty of light falling through, illuminating the dust particles in the air where Gabriel stirs them up.

He basically falls into the bedroom and onto the big bed already there, not bothering with the sheets or the dust on the bed. It's a bed, and that's enough.

Not a moment later, he sinks into the embrace of sleep, or something mimicking it.

Amenadiel privately contemplates the appearance of a new player on the field.

The other Gabriel told Amenadiel that he hadn't fallen--that he isn't disgraced--and he said so right after realizing that Luci and he didn't... something.

Was it about the not-sensing-ghosts thing? Amenadiel has met the annoying human spirits and would prefer not to sense them, ever.

"So, did you come here to talk or just to admire the side of the couch?" Dr Martin's dry voice cuts through his thoughts. Amenadiel looks up from the couch he's sitting on.

He sighs and wondered if the multiverse thing would go over well. Probably not. Best avoid that.

"There's a new person in town," he answers simply, "and he says he's our brother."

He pauses for just a moment, thinking, before he continues to the heart of the problem. "Somehow, he knows something we don't, which makes him dangerous."

"And is it true?" Dr Martin says, looking him in the eyes, grounding his thoughts in the moment. "That he's your brother?"

Amenadiel shrugs, not particularly caught up about that. "Probably. I hadn't met him before, but he can fly well enough."

Linda sits back, slightly dazed, mouthing the word 'fly' to herself as if reminding herself of what the hell was going on before pulling her attention back to the conversation.

"Although, his wings seem to be invisible," Amenadiel continues with a frown. "Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

Linda throws him a look. "Aren't your wings invisible too?"

"No," Amenadiel says, "they're just folded."

In the face of Linda's skeptism, he corrects himself. "Okay, they're folded into a dimensional pocket. The point is, we can't use our wings while they're folded. We can't use them without manifesting them."

Linda nods along, pretending she understands. "And your brother can?"

"Maybe." Amenadiel looks lost. "Maybe it's an ability, like my slowing of time."

Linda takes a deep breath, and chooses to ignore that last part.

"So, your brother--is he acting aggressively towards you or Lucifer?"

"Well..." Amenadiel hesitates. "No? But his appearance can not be a coincidence. He's planning something."

"Maybe, for once, that's exactly what it is," Linda suggests. "A coincidence."

"... Yeah," Amenadiel says doubtfully.

Lucifer walks into the police station frowning. Chloe, sorting out some of the endless papers on her desk, looks up at him as he comes to a stop before her.

"No new leads," she sighs, cutting straight to the point. "Not a trace of Gabriel Novak since yesterday, nor have any records of him turned up."

Lucifer grimaces slightly, but doesn't comment on it, which is strange for him. Chloe lets a few moments of silence fall.

"Okay, spill it." Chloe commands, curiosity overwhelming her as she abandons her paperwork. "You look like you're breaking your head over something and you're not even sure what it is," she says. "What's up?"

Lucifer looks surprised, and then thoughtful. "Detective, how would you go about getting answers out of someone when bargaining or seduction is not an option?"

She pauses a moment, blinking, before she speaks again. "Seduction's not an option for you? Wow, that's a new one."

Lucifer gestures for her to get to the point, and Chloe answers. "There's this new top secret technique called 'asking', heard of it? Have you tried that yet?"

Lucifer opens his mouth to protest that that obviously wouldn't- but he stops himself short. He tilts his head slightly. That... might work. He doesn't know Gabriel well enough to make any judgements on his inclination to cooperate. He can't judge this 'new' Gabriel by the asshole standard he's used to.

Before he can respond, the phone on Chloe's desk rings. They both turn towards it, surprised, and Chloe reaches to pick it up.

"Hello, Detective Chloe Decker, LAPD. Who is this?"

Lucifer watches with interest as the Detective's face becomes more and more alarmed with every word that's said.

"Yes, I understand. I'll be there soon. Are you sure you're the only person there?"

The question was pressing, although Chloe kept her voice composed. She relaxed a bit with the answer she got.

"Good. Don't leave the house."

Chloe hangs up and immediately sets off with a firm pace towards the exit. She motions for her partner to follow.

"That was our victim's wife, Mary Verst." She explains as they walked to Chloe's car, maintaining that brisk pace. "She just found their household cook with a cross through his heart."

"Oh, how symbolic!" Lucifer grins widely. This case is starting to get better. "Now Detective, who do you think would want revenge for Klaren Verst's death?"

Chapter Text

The scene of the crime looks calm and silent from a distance, but that soon turns out to be an illusion. Detective Decker approaches the excessively big house, her partner trailing behind her. The place isn't exactly swarming with police, but tension is heavy in the air and the officers are grim faced.

Chloe passes a van. The wife of the first victim is sitting between the open doors, shivering despite the shock blanket around her shoulders. Chloe gives her a sympathetic glance. That woman has found two dead bodies in just as many days--one of which was her wife.

"Guys!" Ella greets them happily, already crouching by the body. She straightens and comes over to high five Chloe and hug Lucifer, who grimaces at the familiar gesture, making no move to return it.

"I'm sure you've heard that this guy was lethally stabbed-" Ella turns back to the body, waving her hand towards it in a general gesture- "with a cross. Which is pretty ironic, by the way, but I'll get to that later."

Chloe wonders how much Ella has already figured out. Honestly, she could be a detective, but when she brought it up once Ella laughed and dismissed her like she was being ridiculous.

"But, look-" Ella takes a few fast steps towards a table with some evidence bags on top, and holds up one of the bags. It looks like it has a note inside. "I found this in his hand."

Interest piqued, Chloe steps closer. "What is it?"

"A confession." Ella explains, carefully taking the neatly written note out and pointing out one particular paragraph. "Here it describes in gruesome detail how he murdered that poor woman we found yesterday. And this-" She points to a scribble at the bottom, "-is his signature."

Chloe's eyebrows are already rising, but Ella isn't done yet. "Now this is the thing. Mrs Verst told the officers yesterday- I may have overheard," she adds sheepishly at the look Chloe was giving her, and at Lucifer's approving grin. "She told them, while you were interviewing the other guy, that her wife and the cook were best friends. It's why she was so adamant that this guy wasn't a suspect, because they had promised to protect each other."

"'Cross my heart.'" Lucifer realizes, cutting into the conversation with a cold chuckle. It's obvious he approves of the method of killing. "The killer has to be someone who knew of that promise."

"Exactly." Ella nods. "That narrows it down a lot. In fact, according to Mrs Verst over there, it narrows it down to her. Problem is, she had an airtight alibi: a local bar, which means she was surrounded by both strangers and people who knew her. Her friends dragged her out because they didn't want her to spend the whole day in the house her wife was just murdered in, y'know."

"You got all that in an hour?" Chloe is impressed. If they don't hurry it up, Ella's going to solve the case without them.

Lucifer is caught on something else. "What reason could the cook have to kill his BFF?"

Ella gestures vaguely to the note, which she's put back on the table. "It says there that he attacked the late Mrs Verst because she was threatening to throw him out, even though she knew he had nowhere to go. And he 'didn't mean to kill her'."

Chloe pauses for a moment to piece together the puzzle in her mind. Lucifer doesn't even bother. "What are the chances the note is faked?"

"Very low," Ella answers with a shrug. "The handwriting matches other handwriting that is confirmed to be his."

"It's not a suicide, though, is it?" Lucifer asks, looking at the body speculatively. If Miss Lopez thought it was a suicide, she would've lead with that.

"No." Ella confirms easily. "At the angle he was stabbed, he wouldn't have had enough strength to make it to his heart by himself. That cross went straight through."

"If someone threatened this guy into writing a confession note, he might not be the killer." Chloe points out.

"That's ridiculous, Detective! Look at him, only a criminal could wear that horrible Lacoste shirt."

Chloe resists the urge to smack her partner and his self satisfied little grin.

Los Angeles is more fun than he expected it to be. Even without being able to use his Grace for much, just taking in the sights and hiding from the police is great, Gabriel muses. He unwraps another complementary toffee.

Lux is busy at all times, and it isn't exactly inconspicuous, which makes hiding in plain sight all the easier. Not to mention he happens to know the owner. He has to give it to alternate Lucifer, this place is nice.

Even Lux has a demon tending the bar part-time. Gabriel has to wonder if the demon bartender infestation is Lucifer's doing, if he brought all those demons with him when he landed on Earth.

He still has to ask about that little detail. First question, how are you here, second question, how is the human race still here.

Gabriel supposes that if Michael... if Amenadiel and Lucifer get along, there's no reason for an apocalypse. That's a train of thought he knows will lead to a bad mood if he follows it. He decides as quickly as the thought appeared that he doesn't actually have to know how and when Lucifer got here.

Amenadiel himself has been... hovering. Gabriel is pretending he doesn't see the other angel sitting on the balcony walkway above the main floor, but he's getting tired of being watched.

Maybe it's to make sure Gabriel doesn't kill anyone, or maybe Amenadiel is looking for an opportunity to get more information out of him.

Gabriel grimaces and inspects his Grace. He thought he might give more information once he's healed up a bit, once he can actually do things again, but that's going to be tough if he isn't healing.

Just like Amenadiel's Grace, he should be steadily healing. Just like Amenadiel's Grace, he isn't.

Is it something about this universe? That just seems... inconvenient. They can't have this many angels left--Gabriel briefly turns his attention to the Host and the many voices it still has--if something has been preventing them all from healing.

Gabriel takes another toffee. The small bowl on the table stays full.

Damn it all, he might actually have to talk to Amenadiel. If he figures out why Amenadiel isn't healing, maybe he'll figure out why he's not healing either.

He throws a venomous look up to the balcony. Amenadiel quickly looks away and pretends he hadn't been staring.

"Not so fond of him, huh?" a dry voice asks him. The demon bartender of Lux hops over the back of the padded bench and sits down beside Gabriel without a care in the world.

"Ha! No," he agrees, "I don't appreciate being babysat. Unfortunately, this is the best club in town."

The demon smirks. "Don't think flattery will get you a free drink."

Gabriel asks, somewhat curious, "Do I look like I need a drink?"

She tilts her head and doesn't answer.

"You're not so bad for an angel," she says, trailing her eyes over his form. "Any more where that comes from?"

"Lucifer didn't fill you in?" Gabriel asks. "No chance you're going to meet any of my siblings. That's a good thing, trust me."

The demon looks somewhat pissed. "No, he doesn't tell me shit. I just came to check out thy holiness-" Her tone drips with sarcasm- "and make sure we weren't going to have issues."

Gabriel takes another toffee. "No, no issues," he says as he unwraps it. He tosses the wrapper on the ever-growing pile on the table. "Don't worry, I know my demon etiquette."

He pauses. "Hang on, you can tell I'm an angel without being told shit?"

The bartender raises an eyebrow. "Of course. Not much of one, to be honest," she says bluntly.

Huh. That's kind of fucked, that demons can sense Grace when angels can't.

He assumes she must've been a human before, because Fallen Angels would know the importance of that. At least, they should. They must.

Gabriel grins suddenly. "So, you never told Amenadiel he was still an angel... Out of what, spite?"

The demon bartender looks satisfied. "I'll treat that disaster like a friend when he starts treating me like a friend." She indicates Amenadiel with her head. "Want me to throw him out for you?"

Gabriel glances up to see Amenadiel staring at the two of them in mute horror. He's definitely out of hearing range, which only makes the strong reaction funnier.

"Buy me dinner before you start murdering people for me," he jokes. The demon looks pleased with him for it.

"My name's Gabriel, by the way. Toffee?"

"... Mazikeen," the demon introduces, looking thrown. "You're Gabriel?"

"The one and only," Gabriel says. "Or, something like that, anyway." He wiggles the toffee at her.

She hesitates for a moment, but takes it. "Has Lucifer been lying to me?" she complains. "You're nothing like he said you were."

"Pretty sure Luci wouldn't lie to save his life," Gabriel says. He's only been here for two long days, but some traits carry over.

"Maze!" someone shouts across the noise of the club, and Gabriel turns to see Lucifer waving at Maze with an excited grin. He has a familiar-looking blonde with him.

"Fuck," she says, "that's my cue. He's going to try and pull me into some police case."

She vaults over the back of the bench just as smoothly as before, and starts fast-walking, pretending she didn't hear Lucifer. Yeah, Los Angeles is a good time, Gabriel reiterates to himself with a grin. There's so many interesting people to meet.

To his complete lack of surprise, Lucifer heads for Gabriel's table. He's eyeing the pile of toffee wrappers that's twice as large as the bowl with something like bafflement.

The blonde, however, has more pressing questions. Her eyes pierce through Gabriel. "Lucifer," she hisses, grabbing his arm. "Are you kidding me? Has he been here this whole time? I can't believe you."

Gabriel cocks his head, staring back without blinking. It takes a moment, but his eyes light up with recognition. "Oh, right! You were at the police station."

"And you weren't," she says with a flat tone. She's abandoned Lucifer a few paces behind her in order to stare at him with narrowed eyes.

Gabriel shrugs. "Didn't like the espresso. Was there something you wanted?"

"There's a second person dead."

"Huh." Gabriel takes another toffee.

The blonde--an officer?--closes her eyes and fights the urge to commit police brutality. Or so Gabriel assumes.

"The good Detective here just has some questions," Lucifer pitches in. "You know how it is."

"I assume you're not coming in," she states.

"Hm," Gabriel says, "no. Unless you want to arrest me. I'm told I look good in handcuffs." He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

The detective looks at Lucifer. "He's just as bad as you. How did you find someone as bad as you?"

Lucifer, for his part, looks delighted. "Oh, there's no one as bad as me, Detective," he promises. The look he gives Gabriel is full of intrigue.

"I'm not dealing with whatever this is. Lucifer, go away," the detective orders. "I'll ask him some questions."

"I'll get you some drinks, make it a date," Lucifer suggests, and prances off before the detective can get in a word edgewise.

Gabriel watches his retreat with raised eyebrows. "He actually listens to you?"

The detective takes a seat across from him, and levels him with a glare. "I'm a detective, he's my consultant. Obviously he listens to me."

Gabriel whistles. "Consultant, eh? What's it like, having a king of Hell in the police department? Sorry, I'm not sure I caught your name."

She stares at him, then sighs. "You're one of his people. Right, Gabriel. I should've known. What, are you going to claim you're his long-lost brother?"

Gabriel stares at her, then bursts out laughing. "Sorry," he wheezes, barely audible, "that's hilarious."

Lucifer told a human he's the Devil, and she didn't even believe him! It's priceless. Maybe he still compares this Lucifer too much to his own, because he can't even imagine that conversation happening.

The detective's mouth is set in a line when his laughter peters out. "Are you done?"

Gabriel leans his elbow on the table, a huge grin still on his face. "Yeah, go ahead, go on."

"I'm Detective Decker. If you're guilty of either of these murders, I'll find out." She narrows her eyes at him.

"Ooh, a threat," Gabriel says, his grin growing wider. "Now I'm really scared. You know my name already, I suppose."

"Yes," she says, "I do. Gabriel Novak, was it? You were the one who found the first body, by, and I quote, 'tripping over it'."

"I stand by that," Gabriel says, leaning back into the bench without a care in the world.

"Right," Detective Decker says, not sounding convinced. "Can you tell me where you entered the property? The missus of the house didn't recognize you--you weren't let in."

Gabriel actually thinks about it. At the time he was slightly distracted by the agony of his wings burning away into the metaphysical air, but he was aiming for the outskirts of the city, away from the setting sun.

"From the west," he says, "probably. I was a little distracted at the time."

Detective Decker eyes him. "What were you doing?"

"Trying to orient myself, mostly," Gabriel says truthfully. "Like I said to that other guy, I just flew in from Europe. I'm new to the city."

"So you... got lost on private property?"

"Yup."

Gabriel is genuinely being helpful, okay? Not his fault that she doesn't believe him.

"That's not a good expression," Lucifer says behind Gabriel. He looks at Detective Decker with something that could almost be worry. "Need a drink, Detective?"

"No drinking on the job, Lucifer," she says. It sounds like she's repeated it a thousand times.

Lucifer shrugs, and plops down next to Gabriel. "More for me, then."

Gabriel tries not to give away how tense he's suddenly gotten. His skin crawls.

Looking at Lucifer is fine. Hearing him talk is fine. He looks and sounds nothing like Gabriel's brother did. Getting this close, however? Lucifer's wildfire Grace is deeply uncomfortable in his personal bubble. Gabriel takes a few deep breaths, tense as a wire, an icy numbness seeping into his skin.

Lucifer keeps bantering with his detective, just shy of having an arm slung over Gabriel's shoulder. He doesn't notice Gabriel edging away from him.

The itch to draw his blade lessens the further he draws his Grace away. Good thing, too. Gabriel really, really doesn't want to see how much of his own blood is left on it.

Detective Decker directs another question towards him. "Is there anyone who can confirm your whereabouts yesterday evening to today morning, Mr Novak? Maybe the hotel you stayed at?"

Gabriel plasters on a grin, eyes shining. "As a matter of fact, there is! I don't remember her name, but she should be around here somewhere. Ask around if you like."

Detective Decker looks like she wants to murder someone. Yeah, Gabriel wouldn't really want to interrogate strippers about their clients either. Client confidentiality would make it a nightmare.

If she really insists, he can make someone up. He still has enough power from pagan worship that a simple solid illusion works without any help from his Grace--even in this world. He's sure the LAPD are still wondering about the claw marks on another recent murder.

He said he wasn't going back to a Trickster lifestyle, and he's not, okay? Two murders in the same number of days is going to be the exception, not the rule. Those guys really had it coming.

"I think we're done here," Detective Decker says curtly, eyes flickering from Gabriel to Lucifer.

Lucifer groans, hitting the back of his head against the seat. "What, are we going door-to-door again?"

He slinks after Detective Decker, though, and the stifling pressure of untamed Grace leaves with him. Gabriel relaxes his tight grip on the remains of his own Grace.

"Have a nice day!" he calls cheerfully, and it's almost genuine.

Chapter Text

Gabriel knows he's being cornered long before he sees Lucifer coming this way. He sighs, pushing his shot glass to the middle of the table.

"Finally had enough?" one of the humans says. "Man, you're gonna be dead by the end of the night."

Gabriel gives him a grin. "Worse things have tried to kill me. So sorry to cut this short, but I have an appointment."

"With the doctor!" one guy shouts, then he howls with laughter like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard. Drunk humans really are something.

The alcohol does nothing for him, but the faces of the clubgoers when he drinks them all under the table? Priceless.

The short-term entertainment is voided by Lucifer's appearance. Which, yes, may be Gabriel's own fault. He's tempting fate by hanging around Lux, and he shouldn't complain about the predictable results.

"Ah, Gabriel," Lucifer calls with a smile. It's unnerving. "Do you have a moment?"

"I guess I can fit you in before the striptease," Gabriel says, non-committal.

"Excellent," Lucifer says. Gabriel wonders if his response even mattered.

Lucifer gestures to him, and Gabriel reluctantly follows him up the stairs, away from the most crowded areas of the club. Lucifer doesn't take him to the penthouse again, though, only to a point where they can hear each other without shouting over the noise of the club.

When Lucifer turns around to talk to him, he does a double take. "When did you get that?"

Gabriel takes the lollipop out of his mouth and spins it through his fingers. Whoops.

"Nevermind that," Lucifer says. "Look, someone recently told me to try asking, so," he gestures, "I figured I'd give it a try. Feel free to look surprised."

Lucifer always did like hearing himself talk. Gabriel says, "Wow."

"Thank you," Lucifer says, pleased with the response even if it was sarcastic. "Well, Gabriel, what are you doing here?"

He says 'Gabriel' in an odd way, like he's trying out the name. Gabriel, for his part, still isn't used to going by his actual name. He wonders if he'll ever get used to it.

Gabriel says, "Most of the people I meet."

It's not working well. Lucifer is far too shameless to be distracted by Gabriel's innuendos.

"No heavenly plans, no devious schemes?"

Gabriel sure as hell hopes no heavenly plans were involved. He's preparing to be disappointed anytime now.

Lucifer is looking at Gabriel expectantly. He raises an eyebrow in return. "Do I look like I'm scheming?"

"Perpetually, yes," Lucifer says pleasantly. "If you're not here looking for anything, are you running from something? Should we expect any more interdimensional visitors?"

Gabriel stares at him. Finally, he says, "I'm really trying, but I can't figure out your train of thought here, big bro."

"One only comes to L.A. for two reasons," Lucifer says, like it's obvious, not even reacting to the address. "You're either running away from something, or you're looking for something."

Gabriel hums. That's an interesting take. "Which one are you?"

Lucifer huffs. "Bit of both, really. Hold a boring job for an effective eternity and you'd want to get away from it too."

It takes Gabriel a moment to process that, and another to remember why he'd resolved to not ask Lucifer what brought him here. Hell was a job for Lucifer. A job.

"I could talk about me for ages," Lucifer dismisses. "I want to learn more about you."

Gabriel refocuses. He says, "I don't think you have to worry about my siblings. I doubt they'll even be looking."

Lucifer holds his gaze with a searching look. "Which means you're running from your siblings."

Gabriel scoffs a laugh. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"On the contrary," Lucifer says thoughtfully. "I think I know exactly what that's like."

No, he doesn't. Gabriel bristles, shifting away from Lucifer's unchecked Grace. With this Lucifer's relationship to Michael being the way it is, how could he know?

Maybe he's not even talking about Michael. Had they ever considered each other siblings, if there were no Archangels?

Lucifer has no idea who Gabriel is, and Gabriel hates that that hurts.

"Look," Gabriel says, shifting further away. Lucifer's Grace feels too wrong, pressing and pushing. "You leave me be, and I'll leave you be. I don't need anything from you."

Lucifer has the audacity to look offended by that.

"Everyone needs something from me," he says, as if it's self-evident. "Even Mum asks for help once in a while, and you know how she is. I bet," Lucifer looks right at him, "that you just don't know what you want yet."

Gabriel rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I'll be sure to come crawling back sooner rather than later. Was that all you wanted?"

"Yes, that was all. I should get back to the Detective as well. I'll be seeing you."

Gabriel watches him go with dark eyes. Lucifer, Michael, and God were all on speaking terms with each other. Asking-for-help terms, even. It's ridiculous. It doesn't make sense.

Lucifer didn't react to his taunt of 'big bro', because to this Lucifer, pointing out they're siblings isn't a bitter thing.

Gabriel stalks down the stairs to the main club, but he's not in the mood for partying anymore.

In the absence of any kind of divine plan explained to him, Gabriel has a lot of free time on his hands and no purpose.

This is fine. Gabriel has been uprooted before, though never as abruptly as this. He knows how to find his own purpose.

He's always been good at blending in. In a human city, do as the humans do. They seem to be having enough fun, so Gabriel follows their lead.

His Grace still isn't healing.

He's not approached by any alternate siblings for a few days after his conversation with Lucifer, so Gabriel has time to think. Obviously, instead of thinking, he goes on a quest to try out every ice cream flavor in L.A.

He is sure to keep his ears perked for anything suspicious, following anything that catches his interest. It's this way he ends up finding a woman named Jakey and the very illegal drugged candy stash she's selling.

This, Gabriel thinks to himself. This'll do.

He doesn't need to use his Grace at all in the process of seizing candy from her. Loki is apparently still in some way worshipped in this world, despite Gabriel having encountered no sign of any pagan gods walking the earth, which means that Gabriel can use Trickster magic to pull off heists like this.

For justice, not for his own self-benefit, obviously.

'Heists like this' being: putting Jakey out of business by taking candy from her stock at random, making her inventory unreliable. It's barely anything, but a woman like Jakey depends on being reliable. She'll alienate all her contacts on her own. And Gabriel gets candy.

Drugged candy, sure, but that doesn't matter. It's not like that changes anything for him. It's all about the taste, and these are made to taste indistinguishable from normal candy, sweetened to the point of not being able to taste anything else.

Gabriel is immensely satisfied with that particular venture. With Trickster-sourced candy, he can finally stop cannibalizing his own Grace for it.

That sounds worse than it is. Creating candy from Grace is a bad habit, nothing more. Akin to humans chewing their cheek or biting their fingernails. It's harmless, but with his Grace in the state it is, he'd rather not keep messing with it. His only other alternative is kicking the sweets habit entirely, which is not happening.

"What's happened to you?" an appalled voice asks. Gabriel doesn't realize it's aimed at him until there's a hand resting on his arm.

He doesn't startle. Very slowly and deliberately, he turns to see who grabbed him.

He doesn't recognize her at all. Dark blond hair in waves, a severe expression, professional clothing--nothing about this lady is ringing a bell.

She's stopped them in the middle of the cinema entryway, and the thin crowd keeps flowing around them with barely a second glance.

"I'm sorry," she says, taking her hand back. "I was just surprised. You'd think Lucifer would've told me, right? But he doesn't tell me anything." Her chuckle sounds bitter.

Gabriel doesn't want to touch that with a ten foot pole. He cocks his head, but swallows the question and says, "Uh, my movie is about to start..."

"You're asking if I want to see it with you? I'm so sorry, I'm on the clock." She glances at her wristwatch and gives an aggravated sigh. "Damn that man... I... I need to go. Here, this is my card, contact me soon. Will you be careful in the meantime?"

She's like a bulldozer. Gabriel would like to get away from her now.

"If you say so," he agrees doubtfully.

She pats his arm very gently, before hurrying out of the cinema accompanied by the click-clack of her heels on the tiles.

Gabriel glances at the card that was shoved into his hands. Charlotte Richards, Attorney at Law.

Lucifer's choice in human friends is baffling sometimes.

She blatantly called Lucifer by his name, too. How many people are in on this apparently-open secret?

After the movie, Gabriel goes back to his new home. The building is still depressingly empty and dirty, but it's not like he's going to be here often. He can't be bothered to clean it up without his Grace.

He's still holding Charlotte Richard's card. He'd have discarded it before the movie even started, but something is pinging his senses. There's something off, something seriously weird about that card, that whole interaction.

Gabriel lies down on the couch with a sigh, staring at the card for another few seconds. There's a scuttling sound in the ceiling.

Yeah, he's not getting anything from the card. It looks completely normal. Gabriel isn't any closer to understanding why Lucifer's personal lawyer recognized him as associated with Lucifer on sight. That's weird, right?

Gabriel tosses the card onto an end table and stands up. It can stay there. He still has more ice cream to eat.

Chapter Text

"This is just sad," Mazikeen says. "Do you have nothing better to do?"

It's Gabriel's third visit to Lux in as many days. It's pointless, but it makes him feel better, so he responds, "Well, fuck you too, Mazikeen."

He wants to keep an eye on Lucifer. Just in case. A visual eye, since while locating Grace is more reliable and works over longer distances, it also requires him to taste-touch-hear the Grace in question--he's been avoiding that with respect to Lucifer.

Lux is, as Gabriel has figured out, a place Lucifer spends at least some time every day. Gabriel is checking if, well, if Luci looks any more evil than the last time Gabriel saw him.

He doesn't voice any of this, because he'd sound insane.

"Hey, angel," Mazikeen says, leaning over him. Gabriel can't tell if she's about to try to seduce him, threaten him, or both.

He tips his head and stares back.

She says, "If you hurt Lucifer, or Chloe, or anyone or anything they love, I'll string your entrails above the fires and boil them slowly, while the spiders eat the raw bits, and you'll feel every moment of it. Understand?"

"I don't even know who most of those people are," Gabriel points out.

"Understand?"

Gabriel rolls his eyes, but at the same time he raises his hands as a sign of peace. "Yeah, yeah, I get it."

Mazikeen smirks, backing off. "Good. Call me Maze. I'm officially kicking you out of Lux for being a sadsack, so come with me, we're going barhopping."

Gabriel doesn't understand why they're going barhopping until they're at their first bar, an underdeveloped start-up several buildings down from Lux, and Maze calls across the half-crowded room, "Gary! New customer!"

Gabriel is pretty sure Gary comes from a back room, but it's hard to tell, because there's barely a second before Gary is standing before him. Way too close.

"Interesting name for a demon," Gabriel muses. "Did you like your human name too much to give it up?"

Gary sneers at him, but it feels friendly.

"Gabriel, Agramon. Agramon, Gabriel." Maze gestures between them. To Agramon, she adds, "He's pretty cool for an angel. He won't snitch."

"You know how low that bar is, Maze." Gary speaks with an underlying hiss that Gabriel doesn't often hear from demons.

"Sorry, what am I not snitching on?" Gabriel asks.

"Oh, Lucifer has no idea all the bars in his district are run by demons." Maze grins, something wicked in her eyes. "It's not that it's dangerous for him to know, it's just too funny that he doesn't. Don't ruin that."

She punctuates it with a knife aimed at his throat. Gabriel didn't even see her pull it.

"I would never," he promises, grinning back. He pops another hard candy.

It's adorable that she thinks she can hurt him with mortal weapons, it really is. Gabriel won't disillusion her if he can help it.

Barhopping with Maze turns out to be pretty great. She likes leaving chaos in her wake, but unlike Gabriel, she's not very subtle about it. She starts bar fights over the pettiest things, and it's fantastic.

She doesn't try to involve him past flinging a couple bodies his way if he heckles her too loudly. She's having too much fun showing off.

This is his entire day. There are apparently plenty of bars and clubs run by demons in L.A. The demons have one of two reactions to seeing Maze: delight, or despair. It depends on how much they care about the state of their establishment, Gabriel guesses.

"And Lucifer has no idea?" Gabriel can't help but snicker, the twelfth establishment they walk into that has a demon running it. Maze is fairly drunk at that point.

"None!" she announces proudly. "He never fucking believes me when I say Hell's falling apart without him, so I figure, why even try 'n convince him? But it is, you know. Anna, over here! Give us your strongest."

A demon that Maze belatedly names as Aynaet looks very, very dour upon seeing Maze. Gabriel pulls his most innocent expression to contrast. It wouldn't do to be kicked out before they've even started a fight.

"Are we sure Gabriel is an angel and not a demon?" Amenadiel asks, looking tired.

Lucifer pours him a drink. He looks like he needs it. "Not at all. It's not expected for Fallen Angels to keep their wings, but it does happen." Lucifer gestures to himself as he says it. "What's this about, brother? You think he lied?"

Amenadiel sighs, taking the glass. "Not really, just... Have you seen how he gets along with Maze?" he despairs.

"Everyone with a self-preservation instinct gets along with Maze," Lucifer dismisses.

"No, no, you don't understand, Luci. They're scheming something. She texted me about it." He sits down and laments, "How come Gabriel gets along so well with her when he avoids us both?"

"Maze doesn't scheme." Lucifer looks offended by the very idea.

"Bet on me," Maze tells him. "I'll run this ring into the ground. We're gonna be rich."

They've moved onto human-run underground fighting rings. Maze knows all of them, but some of them don't know her yet. Their mistake.

Gabriel laughs at her. "Do me a favor, put this on before you enter. Do your best to look unintimidating 'til the betting ends, and we'll really put them out of business."

Mazikeen cackles, snatching the polka-dotted drape out of his hands. "I'll never wear this shit again, so enjoy it while it lasts."

Not flying is hard. It's not that Gabriel forgets that his Grace is badly injured, he just doesn't think about it at that particular moment. Never before has he had to consider his health before deciding to fly somewhere--it's bullshit.

At least, those are his excuses when he nearly blacks out from the pain outside some sleazy nightclub at three in the morning.

"Go back for the fucking card," Gabriel mumbles into the sidewalk. "It's a good idea. Fucking fuck."

The nerve endings in his vessel's shoulders are screaming at him. Gabriel regrets his life choices.

"Whu- Are you okay, dude?"

Gabriel makes a rude gesture at whoever just opened the back door of the club.

"All I did was ask," they mutter, indignant. They walk away.

Gabriel lies there in the street for several more hours, but eventually he pushes himself up. The movement doesn't make the pain worse, it never does, but he was tired. He deserves a nap in the street if that's the hand he's dealt.

He goes into the nightclub to get his fake ID back. He might as well, if he's here anyway.

It takes him most of the day to muster up the will to do anything again, but when he feels like his eyes look less dead, Gabriel seeks out Amenadiel.

Which starts by seeking out Lucifer, naturally. Lucifer is much easier to find. Gabriel heads for Lux.

The moment the elevator doors open to show the penthouse, Gabriel wants to go back down.

Three heads turn to him. One of them is Amenadiel, but speaking to Amenadiel is not worth... whatever this is. They can talk injured Grace later.

Gabriel clears his throat. "I can see I'm interrupting something, I'll come back-"

As he moves for the elevator buttons again, Charlotte Richards hurries towards him. "No, no, stay! You're involved as well, you deserve to have a say in it."

She says that last bit with an emphasis that has Gabriel eyeing her warily.

She tries to pull him out of the elevator, and Gabriel skirts around her. He doesn't want random people grabbing him.

He's now in the room proper, and Charlotte Richards closes the elevator doors from the outside. Fuck.

Even Lucifer gestures him further in.

"Yes, I as well would like to hear what Gabriel thinks," Lucifer says. "Oh, for context, we were talking about Mum interfering in the Detective's court case, for- I'm sorry, I nearly forgot, you haven't given us any explanation!"

Gabriel chokes on air. Lucifer had gestured to Charlotte Richards just then.

His breath still wheezing, Gabriel repeats, "Mum?"

His hope that he'd misinterpreted vanishes when 'Charlotte Richards' turns to him with an apologetic expression. "I thought you'd recognized me. Oh dear, I did run off, didn't I? I suppose we've both changed a lot. A thousand years will do that."

She sounds saddened by it.

Gabriel looks at his alternate brothers for a clue. Lucifer makes a face, and Amenadiel just shrugs at him. Very helpful.

"Mom has been on Earth for a couple of months," Amenadiel offers. "We would've told you, but..."

"Yes, well, you seem fond of disappearing acts," Lucifer finishes.

"Fucking what," Gabriel says blankly.

This universe just... has God. Not even as some omnipresent being, but on earth, in human form, talking to Her children. What the fuck? Where Gabriel's family got billions of years of silence, another aspect of God just casually chose to hang out with Hers?

"All that matters is that we're together now," She soothes.

Gabriel keeps his damn mouth shut. He thinks that if he opens it, he'll immediately be cast into hell for what he says.

"If that's truly all that matters, Mother," Lucifer says, "why are you doing all this? Please, give me a real answer."

This was already awkward when Gabriel thought it was an argument between friends. He wants out.

"Lucifer," She says mournfully. "You know all I want is my family back. That includes you."

What the fuck is Gabriel hearing right now? Is this a joke? Is this some cosmic prank?

"I'm right here, Mum." Lucifer sounds frustrated.

"No you're not," She says, matter-of-fact. "Your heart isn't here with us. That's what I'm doing, don't you get it? I'll prove that Chloe isn't a woman worthy of you, and when you see it, then we'll be a family again."

The stray thought who's Chloe? flits through Gabriel's head, but it doesn't survive for long.

Lucifer exchanges a look with Amenadiel.

"Isn't that what you want too, Gabriel?" She asks, turning to him. Gabriel jolts at the address. "To go back to the Silver City?"

Gabriel laughs out loud. It's an incredulous sound, too high-pitched to sound composed. "You're joking, right?"

She looks taken aback. "I most certainly am not. I know it wasn't always perfect up there, but..."

Gabriel killed his siblings. Gabriel watched his siblings die. Gabriel abandoned his siblings to that fate. He made his choice, and he's never going back on it. He's willing to die if it comes to that, but he'll never, never go back to Heaven.

She doesn't necessarily know that, though, does She? She's not exactly his Parent. She's another aspect of the same power, and unless She actively tries to, She won't know anything about Gabriel's universe. In Her eyes, maybe the offer She made was a viable one.

When he didn't immediately respond, the argument had moved on without him. "This has nothing to do with her," Lucifer is saying. "I've made my home here, and it happened before I ever knew the Detective. Why are you so insistent on involving her?"

"Please," She scoffs. "As if you haven't sacrificed more for her than you have for anyone else. You killed your brother, my son, to protect her."

"Mom!" Amenadiel says, appalled. He looks at Gabriel, but Gabriel barely notices.

She continues without pause, "Tell me, would she do anything remotely similar for you?"

Lucifer visibly bristles. "I... I don't know."

She crosses her arms. "So, that's why. If everything goes to plan in the courtroom tomorrow, you'll have your answer."

"What plan, Mum? What scheme are you concocting? Please don't tell me it began by killing Boris."

"Nothing of the sort," She dismisses. "That was just a happy twist of fate. I was going to blow Chloe up, but Amenadiel talked me out of it."

Gabriel drops his head into his hand. "What the fuck," he mumbles.

He hears Luci's voice rising in anger, Amenadiel desperately trying to mediate, Her curt rebuttal, and suddenly it's all too much like his own family get-togethers, the ones they used to have, before the Fall.

He hated them.

Gabriel lifts his head just to wander over to Luci's excessive penthouse bar and get himself a bottle of... whatever. Anything will do. Gabriel likes to pretend he can get drunk sometimes, like humans do, where they just ingest something and feel better about everything.

"Well, look at you!" She's saying. Her voice turns towards Gabriel, and he looks up to see what She wants. She's gesturing at them all, but him and Amenadiel especially. "Look at what Earth is doing to you. If you stay here, it'll only get worse. I don't want more of my children dying on my watch."

Amenadiel looks deeply troubled by this. She turns around to see Gabriel's reaction, clearly expecting something similar.

Gabriel looks her dead in the eye and downs the whole bottle. He still doesn't know what it is, but the displeased look on Her face is a petty sort of satisfying.

She looks back at Lucifer. "You'll see tomorrow. You'll understand. This argument is over."

She stalks to the elevator, confident and composed as ever. Fucking prick.

Lucifer disappears off to the balcony only seconds later. Amenadiel looks between the balcony and the bar, and after a minute he makes a decision.

"Are you drinking responsibly?" is the first thing Michael says to him. Gabriel wants to punch him in the face. That's not a new feeling--it's a very, very old one.

"About what Mom said," Amenadiel says, before hesitating.

Gabriel grabs a new bottle.

"Uriel threatened Lucifer," Amenadiel says. "It was self defense."

"Let me stop you there," Gabriel interrupts, when Amenadiel opens his mouth again. "I don't care. I'm sure Uriel deserved it. That was God? You're not playing some prank on me, that was actually God?"

"What?" Amenadiel frowns at him. "No? That was Mom."

Gabriel stares at him. "What are you talking about."

"God's Wife? Asherah? The Goddess of All Creation?" Amenadiel tries.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I think there's a misunderstanding happening here," Amenadiel says.

"God doesn't have a wife," Gabriel clarifies, because apparently this needs to be clarified.

Amenadiel looks almost as thrown as Gabriel is feeling. "But... Not at all? You're sure she isn't just locked up or something?"

Gabriel considers. "There's the Darkness, but I'm not sure how to feel about comparing His sibling to His wife."

"Dark-" Amenadiel stops. He takes a breath. "Maybe... Maybe we shouldn't try to compare universes, ever. I think that would be for the best."

Gabriel is nodding before he realizes it. "Right, yeah." For the sake of his sanity, or whatever's left of it.

He waves Amenadiel towards the balcony. "Don't mind me, I'll just be processing an entirely new being older than all of Creation for a while."

Amenadiel takes one more look at him before turning to go talk to Lucifer.

Gabriel doesn't wait for him to come back.

Chapter Text

It's been a week straight without a sighting of Gabriel at Lux when Maze breaks and goes to ask Lucifer.

"Where'd the angel go? The fun one."

"Hello to you too, Maze," Lucifer says. He walks over to his bar to pour her a drink, even though she never takes those anymore.

"Just answer the question," she says.

"You mean Gabriel?" Lucifer pours his own drink. "He has his own life, or so I assume. I can point you to his building if you want."

Maze narrows her eyes. Lucifer doesn't use that curt tone often.

"Okay, the hell'd I miss?" she says. "Last I knew, you and Gabriel got along like a house on fire. I thought you named him an honorary fallen angel."

That was a joke, obviously, but the kind of resentment Maze is sensing isn't normal for Lucifer.

Lucifer scoffs, sitting down on the piano stool, though he faces away from the piano. "Yes, well, he'd certainly fit in."

Maze says, slowly, "That's not a good thing?"

She's admittedly confused.

Lucifer sighs and turns to the piano, which is how Maze knows this is serious. As a general rule, Lucifer likes looking at people.

"I suppose it wouldn't be a big deal to you," he says. "I thought his siblings would mean more to him, though. Why come to me otherwise?"

Lucifer glances up to see Maze's impatient expression.

"Right," he says, getting to the point. "Mum told, or rather, Amenadiel told Gabriel that I killed Uriel."

"You're still upset about that?" Maze asks, incredulous.

Lucifer scoffs. He doesn't even dignify that with a response.

"Gabriel didn't care," Lucifer tells her. "He didn't care at all. I'm beginning to think our siblinghood isn't the connecting factor I'd assumed it to be."

"You're right," Maze says. "That's not a big deal. So, he run off or something?"

"I wouldn't know," Lucifer says, his tone light.

"You didn't ban him from Lux, did you?" she asks suspiciously.

"Nothing of the sort." Lucifer sounds offended. "I wouldn't keep someone from experiencing the wonders of Lux simply because I didn't like them."

Maze gives him a deadpan stare. He's done exactly that before.

Lucifer doesn't notice it. "In any case, he isn't here, so I'm afraid you've come for nothing." He turns back to the piano.

"Fine," Maze says. "It's not like I need your help."

Lucifer has stopped listening. Maze huffs and steps back into the elevator.

"So, you ditched Lux."

Gabriel finally acknowledges the demonic presence. He grins. "If it isn't everyone's favorite menace. What brings you here?"

"Are you kidding me?" Maze says, pissed. "I thought you might've been kidnapped or something."

"Does that happen often?" Gabriel asks curiously.

He's sitting at the bar, and instead of sitting on the stool next to him, Maze hops up on the counter to face him. The barkeep knows Maze, so she doesn't say a damn word.

Gabriel adds another wrapper to the bowl the demon barkeep had thrown at his head earlier, cracking a hard candy between his teeth.

"When it's Lucifer?" Maze sighs. "Yeah. And my roommate's a cop, so she drags me into those things whenever Lucifer doesn't. Seriously, do you live off those things?"

She's staring at where Gabriel is already spinning another piece of candy between his fingers.

"Pretty much," he says.

She snatches the one he's holding in one smooth movement. "What's so good about them, anyway?"

Gabriel smirks at her. Like he thought she would, Maze takes the bait. She tries the candy.

"I don't get it," she says, rolling it around in her mouth. "This sucks."

Gabriel points a dramatic finger. "You take that back. I'll have you know that some humans kill to get their hands on that shit."

This is dismissed instantly. "Humans will kill each other for anything," Maze says. She waves over the bartender for a drink, face still screwed up in disgust.

"Ugh," Gabriel says, "point. Are you really only here to steal my candy? How'd you even find me?"

"It's my job," Maze says, matter-of-fact. "I'm a bounty hunter: I hunt humans, and I get paid for it." She grins. "I'm pretty damn good."

Gabriel acknowledges that.

"Oh," Maze recalls, "your front door might or might not be broken now. Good luck with that, I'm not fixing it. Hey, you know your place sucks?"

"Yeah." Gabriel winks. "So do I."

Maze raises her eyebrows, interested. "Do you actually?"

Right, Maze used to serve Lucifer. Of course she'd be just as shameless as him.

Gabriel makes a non-committal noise, before he admits, "Only if it's very funny. I filmed a porno recently to pass a critically important message."

He smirks to himself. He's still proud of that. Hopefully it was horribly-received; he put a lot of effort into what he thought would be his last ever trick.

"Can I see it?" Maze asks, eyes shining.

Popping another piece of candy, Gabriel leans back in his seat. "It was probably destroyed," he muses. "Those guys just don't appreciate good art."

Maze scowls. "Fuck them. I'll find them and kick their ass for you." She pauses, looking spacier than usual. "Hey, is your candy drugged? I thought that shit didn't work on you?"

Gabriel laughs at her. He knows from experience that Maze is pretty drug-resistant, which is why he didn't stop her from stealing his sweets.

Maze kicks him in the side hard enough to make him feel it. Gabriel clears his throat. "Yeah, unfortunately. The drugs do nothing to me, but if I don't steal the drugged ones, they're used to roofie people." He shrugs. "I could make them disappear, but that would be a waste of perfectly good candy, you know?"

"Good? They taste like shit," Maze says immediately. Then, at a mutter, "And they tell me you don't act like an angel... Gonna be honest, I don't see it."

Gabriel bares his teeth in a mockery of a smile. "They're right. It's not a very angelic thing to do, helping humanity."

The words are more loaded, more bitter, than he wants them to be. Maze fixes him with piercing eyes.

"You don't like your siblings much, do you?" Maze guesses. "Not Lucifer either. That why you ditched Lux?"

Another piece of candy crunches obnoxiously between his teeth. Gabriel lets the overpowering sweetness linger on his tongue. He says, "I never stay in one place too long."

Maze slides her intense gaze off him with a shrug. "If you say so."

Chapter Text

Gabriel is pretty sure Lucifer doesn't want him here.

He's gotten pretty good at being able to tell over the years--lots of experience with being a nuisance under his belt. This seems like more than annoyance, though. Maze had even mentioned something about Lucifer being pissy when it came to Gabriel.

Which makes it weird that Maze was the one to drag him to this, even going out of her way to get him after she was called over herself. Gabriel has never been brought along as emotional support before. It's novel.

He's joking for the most part. Maze is a demon, she was probably looking for entertainment.

Lucifer seems content to ignore him. Gabriel sits in one of the fancy chairs in the penthouse and exchanges doubtful glances with Maze while Lucifer explains exactly how and why they're going to kill him.

"This is a terrible plan," the Goddess of All Creation announces, with the confidence of someone who knows no one can protest. "I absolutely forbid it."

Maze pulls a face at Lucifer. "You know how much I hate agreeing with Her Royal Highness. Don't make me say it."

"Feel free to disagree," Lucifer says.

"I can't follow you down there, you know that. You'd be totally alone down there."

Gabriel rests his chin in his palm, studying Maze. She's not faking the concern.

The dying human is her roommate, she'd told him on the way. Maze wants to keep her alive, for whatever reason.

Lucifer dismisses her. "I've done it before, haven't I? I'll pop in and out, it won't take long."

"Father brought you back that time," Amenadiel says sharply.

Maze adds, "And you didn't go through any of the doors. If you do, you could be stuck there forever."

This time, Lucifer really does scoff. "I'm the Lord of Hell, I can go wherever I want to. Not that there's many places down there I'm eager to visit."

"You were the Lord of Hell," the Goddess corrects. "Lucifer... You've been away for a while. Hell may have changed." She pauses. "... Or you may have."

Lucifer looks at them all like they're speaking nonsense. His gaze skips over Gabriel's sprawled form entirely, and Gabriel is glad for it.

Despite his outward lack of care, Gabriel is aware of everyone in the room and where they are relative to his position. He's not quite surrounded, they're not here for him, but it's still not a comfortable situation.

He'd considered it being intentionally set up, with the implausible human-in-danger plot. Maze could've easily pretended to invite him out of her own volition, when it was actually some group plot to jump him and interrogate him while his guard was lowered.

Gabriel was prepared for that when he got here, but now he doesn't think he needed to be. The way this family argues is way too familiar to be scripted.

And then there's the elephant in the room. When Lucifer finally turns to look at her, Gabriel follows his gaze.

"What do you think, Doctor?" Lucifer says, audibly frustrated. Searching for support.

Gabriel unwraps another candy while the doctor hesitates.

"I think... I followed about half of that," she says, standing up to approach. That's a brave move, considering the rest of the room is filled with immortals.

The Goddess scoffs a little.

"Do you, uh, regularly hold celestial planning parties?" she looks around at them. Though her gaze is fleeting, she even meets Gabriel's eyes.

"Not ordinarily, no," Amenadiel answers. "Though, if that's what this is, I don't know why you were invited. No offense intended."

The doctor holds up a hand. "None taken. Lucifer?"

It's very odd to hear him addressed like that, by a human who has full knowledge of what they're saying. Lucifer raises an eyebrow back at her.

She shakes her head shortly. "Well... What makes you so sure you'd go to hell?"

Lucifer thinks she's joking for a second. "I'm banned from Heaven, obviously. There's nowhere else to go."

Gabriel cocks his head. Lucifer is no liar, so he really believes that. A lack of Purgatory sounds fake, but when Gabriel thinks about it for more than a second--there are no monsters, as far as Gabriel has been able to tell. There are no pagans. If you simplify this world to its base factors, there's just humanity, and angels. When angels die, they just die, so there's no reason for a Purgatory.

There might not be any Leviathans. That's food for thought.

"Look," Lucifer says in response to the doctor, catching Gabriel's attention again. "If anyone has a better suggestion, I'd love to hear it. Quite frankly, I'd prefer to Uber there. I will be doing this regardless, with or without you."

The Goddess stands up, lifting her chin. "Then it'll have to be without me," she says, her voice wavering slightly.

Lucifer looks taken aback, and Gabriel wonders at how much more expressive Lucifer is than he's used to from his own siblings. It must be a deliberate choice, but why?

"I will have no part in returning you to that place. Not for a moment."

The Goddess stands firm. When Lucifer doesn't immediately start protesting, she turns and stalks away towards the penthouse elevator, leaving a tense silence behind.

Just before it, she stops. "Amenadiel? Gabriel? Are you coming?"

Gabriel blinks at her back owlishly.

Amenadiel sighs. "No. I'm helping, Mom."

The Goddess gapes briefly at his audacity before turning to Gabriel. "You've been quiet. You see how badly this plan will go, don't you?"

Does she still think he's hers?

"Nah," Gabriel says. "This'll either be a trainwreck or the luckiest moment of Luci's entire life. Why miss it?"

"It won't be that bad," Lucifer assures, the gesture mainly aimed at the human doctor.

"Yes, it will," Maze says, standing up abruptly. She smirks. "You son of a bitch, I'm in."

The Goddess doesn't look like she catches Maze's obfuscated insult. She looks fairly upset regardless. "Doctor," she says, "Surely you have some sensible advice?"

The doctor looks between her and Lucifer. "Respectfully," she says, "he's the devil. There's nothing sensible going on here."

Gabriel snickers as he summons another piece of candy. He thinks he likes her.

"I understand," the Goddess says, straightening up despite how her expression wavers. Her voice is firm. "When you've saved this insignificant human's life, I want you to look back and consider if it was worth Hell."

She steps into the elevator, and the doors close behind her.

Lucifer wastes no time in dismissing her entirely. "With that party pooper out of the way, let's get started."

"By the way," the doctor says, now that she has a moment without the Goddess of All Creation looking over her shoulder. "What's my role in all of this?"

"You've been to medical school, yes?"

She says, "I don't think I like where this is going."

Maze assigns Gabriel to the murder party, as opposed to whatever Amenadiel will be doing. She claims it's for moral support.

When Lucifer says he doesn't need it, Maze looks at him incredulously.

"Not yours," she clarifies. "Dying isn't hard. He's mine."

Good old demon behavior, Gabriel thinks, with only a small eye roll. He humors her. Who knows, seeing an alternate Lucifer die in front of him might just be cathartic.

Lucifer's favored human is in the hospital a fair distance away, so they drive there. It's absolutely ridiculous when three of them can theoretically fly, but Gabriel keeps his mouth shut. This whole plan is ridiculous, Lucifer doesn't need to die for it, but Gabriel isn't going to be the one to tell them that.

Lucifer may have been cast out of Heaven, but just like Gabriel's own sibling, this one's Grace is as readily available as it always had been. He didn't fall the way every other angel did. If only he knew how to reach for it, right?

"I don't think I caught your name," Gabriel says to the doctor, while Lucifer is breaking several traffic laws.

The doctor is on the other side of Maze in the backseat of Lucifer's roofless car, and also focused entirely on her phone, so Gabriel isn't shocked when she doesn't respond.

"That's Linda," Maze says in her stead, and the doctor looks up when she hears her name. "She's kickass."

"Thanks, Maze," Linda says, visibly nervous now that she's looked up from her phone. Though she sounds distracted, she picks up where Maze left off. "As I understand it, I'm currently the only person to know about all," she waves her hand, "this."

Maze glowers at the back of the driver's seat. "Lucifer traumatized her last month."

"He tends to do that," Gabriel says.

"Could you two put your seatbelts- Nevermind," Linda immediately retracts her question. "That's probably only something I have to worry about, isn't it?"

Gabriel is sitting with his arms crossed over the back of the passenger seat, leaning on them to see Linda past Maze. Maze herself has her feet kicked up.

This close, Amenadiel's Grace is a lot harder to miss, though it clearly hasn't recovered any since the last time Gabriel sensed it, which is... a problem for another time. He makes sure to keep away from Lucifer's entirely.

"Pretty much," Gabriel says, at the same time that Maze says-

"Seatbelts are for losers."

Linda hums vaguely and moves her attention back to her phone. Her frown gets deeper.

Maze and Linda are planning to steal scrubs belonging to the hospital in order to blend in. Gabriel hovers, but lets them at it right up until he hears Maze say, "We can't waste time, Linda! If we put the body in a locker, they won't-"

"Alright, amateur hour is over," Gabriel interrupts them. Linda startles visibly, while Maze only snaps her head around unnaturally quickly. They stay crouched in the most suspicious way.

"Uh, what's with the-" Linda starts.

He's already in nurse scrubs, and with a simple snap of his fingers, so are they. Linda only screams a little.

"What the hell," Maze demands, but she's already moving past him to look for their destination. "You just do shit like this?"

"When I feel like it." Gabriel gives her a shit-eating grin around his lollipop.

Illusions are nothing. Anything that's trickster-territory, Gabriel can accomplish without Grace, which means it's ridiculously easy.

"Not to complain," Linda says, walking quickly to catch up with them, "but where'd my real clothes go?"

"You're still wearing them," Gabriel allows. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Room A20," Maze says. "That's the room below Chloe's."

Gabriel vaguely recalls that name. "That's your cop roommate, yeah?"

He feels a lot more at ease in a crowded hospital, committing multiple felonies, than he did sitting in Lucifer's penthouse.

"Yeah," Maze says, and her mouth pulls into a line. Gabriel doesn't ask her any more.

The one who gets the dubious honor of killing Lucifer is Maze. Doctor Linda sources defibrillators in the hospital room they end up in, and shows Maze how to use them properly.

Maze rubs them together as demonstrated, then takes them apart, looking to Linda for approval.

Linda nods. She warns, "Now, there's no way to test them before-"

Maze raises the defibrillators and smacks them into Gabriel's chest.

"Good try," Gabriel says, vaguely aware of the wattage. Enough to kill a human. "Four out of ten when it comes to murder attempts, but since it's your first, I'll give you extra credit."

"Fucking angels," Maze mutters, looking somewhat dejected that Gabriel didn't fall over dead.

Linda lets go of the breath she was holding, realizing everything is fine. "Okay, that's another important part: wait for my signal. I guess that's more applicable when you're reviving someone, instead of, well, killing them, but we'll have to do that too, after the killing part."

She sounds very stressed. Gabriel almost doesn't want to bring up another problem, but, "You sure that'll work on Lucifer?"

"Yep," Maze says, then refuses to elaborate.

Linda isn't as stingy with information. "That's why we're underneath Chloe's room. He's, well, killable when he's near her."

"Tried and true," Maze adds, when Gabriel raises a skeptical eyebrow.

"Sure," Gabriel says. He'll believe it when he sees it.

There's a chair or three pushed into a corner, ostensibly for visitors. Gabriel takes one out of the stack and turns it around so he can sit on it improperly, the backrest between him and the rest of the room.

He still doesn't entirely trust this plan. It doesn't feel real.

"Where is Luci, anyway?" he asks.

"Probably checking on Chloe," Linda says, nodding to herself. She clenches and unclenches her hands several times, like she's testing if they still work.

Gabriel finds Lucifer the moment he bothers to look for himself. His head rises as he tastes-feels-hears the icy Grace approaching.

"Speak of the devil," he says, with a little smirk that he knows is obnoxious.

Linda looks at the door, then back at him, confusion on her face. Maze gets up and starts to pace the length of the room.

It's almost a minute more before Lucifer knocks, and Linda hurries to open the door.

"Took you long enough," Maze complains. "What if the humans move Chloe while we're down here?"

"Oh, don't worry. That part's being handled," Lucifer says. "Right, so I just lie down here?"

Linda heads for the EKG equipment. "Take your shirt off first. And no, I'm not just saying that. These nodes need to go on your bare chest so we can monitor your vitals."

Gabriel stays back and watches in quiet (tired) fascination (longing) as Lucifer prepares to go back to hell, even temporarily, just to save a human. He can't wrap his head around it.

Lucifer doesn't look alarmed. He sounds perfectly casual asking about what exactly will be killing him. Just on instinct, Gabriel wants to check his Grace to find out how he really feels, except he very much doesn't want to do that. Just being in the same room as Lucifer feels like a shift in the air pressure, everything slightly heavier than it was before, and in a room this small Gabriel is cornered.

"Sixty seconds?" Lucifer asks, wearing an incredulous frown. "I've had orgasms that last longer than that."

"Time moves slower down there," Maze reminds him.

"Even so, we only get one chance at this," Lucifer says. "I don't know how long getting the formula will take."

"What are you talking about," Maze says. "If you don't get it in time, we'll just try again. Killing you sounds like it's gonna be easy, I could do this shit all day."

"I can't," Linda says instantly. "I'd prefer you get it in one trip, but I'm not budging on the minute rule."

"Why not?" Lucifer actually, genuinely pouts.

"The brain only lasts three minutes after death. Or so I read on the car ride here." Linda takes a deep breath and makes an effort not to scream. She doesn't entirely succeed. "Why am I doing this again!?"

"Because you care about saving the Detective's life almost as much as I do," Lucifer says, audibly impatient.

"I also care about your life, Lucifer," Linda says. "Ice packs to slow the death of your braincells, painkillers, am I missing anything? Okay, Maze, whenever you're ready."

Maze snarls at the implication that she's ever not ready, picking up the defibrillators.

Gabriel should be paying attention, but he's still looking at Linda. What on earth could Lucifer have done to earn friendship like that?

Maze grunts in frustration. She gestures with the defibrillators. "I can't do it. You do it."

"What?" Linda says, alarmed. "No, we agreed that you'd kill him, I'd bring him back."

"You're the doctor!"

"And you're the demon from hell!"

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer takes the defibrillators out of Maze's slack hands and stops his own heart.

Gabriel actually feels somewhat disturbed.

"Oh my god," Linda breathes. "He's dead. He's really dead."

Not by Lucifer killing himself. Lucifer never could stay down, and Gabriel isn't expecting him to do so now. No, what disturbs him in ways he can't describe is Maze's expression. She looks awfully worried. She couldn't kill him when she was asked.

More than the claims about saving Chloe, more than even Linda's loyalty, this gets through to Gabriel. He likes to think he knows Maze better than he does the other people in the celestial planning squad, and he'd really expected her to be eager about killing Lucifer. He knows Maze isn't afraid of Lucifer, so she couldn't have been stopped by self-preservation instincts.

That's... That's something Gabriel had avoided actively realizing until now. Maze isn't afraid of Lucifer. Not Maze, nor any other demon Gabriel has met, have shown signs of being afraid of Lucifer.

Gabriel watches her hold the defibrillators, her hands shaking. This perfectly ordinary demon, not even one of Lucifer's Fallen siblings, isn't scared of him, but scared for him instead.

Linda takes a deep breath, tearing her eyes away from the hanging clock. "Clear!"

When Maze shocks Lucifer, Gabriel's eyes involuntarily go to the vitals display. There's a small bump in the heartbeat, and nothing more.

"You said this would work!" Maze shouts anxiously, waving the defibrillators up and down.

Linda doesn't panic. After a few more seconds of watching the flat line, she says again, "Clear."

The revival fails again. Gabriel watches like a hawk as Lucifer remains motionless and Linda starts to panic as well.

Maze, looking somewhat like a cornered animal, says, "He must be trapped down there."

She turns to Gabriel when she says it, not just talking to Linda.

"When you say trapped..." Gabriel stands up, choosing to join the conversation properly.

"In one of the cells," Maze says.

Linda demands, "What do we do?"

Maze only looks more haunted. "Someone needs to go down there, pull him out. I'd go, but I can't."

"You can't?" Gabriel repeats.

Maze looks at him like he's stupid. "Demons don't have a soul, dipshit. If I die, I just die."

That revelation has Gabriel speechless for a moment. Isn't she wearing a vessel? Or is this actually her own, previously-human body?

How do demons get back to hell, in that case? Unless she's saying they don't. Ever. That going to earth is a one-way trip.

No fucking way, right? Tons of demons followed Lucifer up here, without his knowledge or permission, even. They wouldn't do that if it was a one-way trip.

Linda gets the attention of both of them, waving her hands. "Right now every second counts, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but... What if I go?"

She's terrified out of her mind, Gabriel can practically taste it. Why would she offer that?

"What?" Maze stares. "What makes you so sure you'd go to hell and not heaven?"

Linda waves that away. "There are things about me you don't know. Trust me, I'm sure."

Maze sputters, but recovers. She snaps, "I'm not going to kill you."

"There's no other way," Linda insists. She turns to Gabriel. "You do it, then. I won't make Maze do it, but someone has to kill me."

It's incomprehensible, how Lucifer's friends are willing to put everything on the line for him.

Gabriel studies for a second, and just as she opens her mouth to insist, he says, "No need for that. I'll fetch him."

Linda and Maze both watch Gabriel disappear, leaving only the sound of wings in his wake.

Linda gapes at the empty space where he'd been standing. "Could he... Could he have done that all along? Just..." She gestures, lost. "Did he fly just now? Into hell?"

"Fucking angels," Maze groans.

Chapter Text

Hell has basalt flooring, is what Gabriel notices first.

He grits his teeth and hauls himself up off the ground, his shoulder blades twitching with phantom pain. His vessel is short of breath, his Grace is roiling. Why did he think Lucifer was worth this, again?

He's not completely healed--okay, he isn't healed at all, he has maybe regained a tiny bit of Grace since he got to this world. He knew this was going to be painful. If it were easy, he would've offered to pop down to hell in the first place. Maybe. If Lucifer had managed to convince him beforehand that he did actually care about this human.

Gabriel pulls himself upright, brushing dirt off. It comes right back.

He's back in his regular clothes, as Maze and Linda will also be. Gabriel is good, but he isn't good enough to maintain his illusions across different planes of existence. He didn't think it was worth the mojo to keep on the blatantly fake mustache, either--he doubts hell will find it as funny as he did.

His Grace is twitching and wavering in a way that makes him feel nauseous, so it takes him longer than it should to notice it's not, in fact, snowing. When he tunes into his vessel's senses, hell feels neither cold nor hot. He'd expected, well, hellfire and brimstone. That may be a different department.

What he at first mistook for snowflakes are flecks of light ash, a steady supply which is clinging to his clothes and filtering into his vessel's lungs. There must be a fire somewhere, then, if not here.

Gabriel's eyes flit over the walls and the various doors--different heights and makes, but all with the same sturdy lock on them. The entrances look like they're carved into the basalt, or even grown there, never to see sunlight. It's a lot more closed off than Helheim was.

Not that he knew Helheim very well, but he'd visited it. Stretches of plains full of mist, dead-looking plants, and walking corpses. It was open, because as everyone knew, you couldn't escape it anyway. Hel wouldn't allow it.

Now there's a thought. Maybe this version of hell hadn't had locks on their cells until Lucifer left for Earth. Maybe there hasn't been a new ruler in all that time.

Gabriel doesn't immediately taste-feel-hear Lucifer's numbing Grace, which is as much of a relief as it is a concern. Without a vessel to contain it, it should be impossible to miss, so where is Lucifer that Gabriel doesn't instantly notice him?

Reluctantly, Gabriel searches. It hurts to reach out, but nowadays everything he tries to do with Grace hurts, so that doesn't stop him. Lucifer should be here.

His attention is drawn to one of the locked and bolted doors further down what functions as a hallway. There's the bastard, close as Gabriel thought he'd be, even as he still can't sense all the Grace he's supposed to. Like Maze said, Lucifer is stuck in one of the cells himself.

Locks are a joke for a Trickster. If Gabriel expected for hell's locks to pose any more of a challenge than human ones, he was wrong. He snaps his fingers and the lock falls off, clattering to the stone beneath.

Without further hesitation, Gabriel steps inside. There's not much to see from the get-go: it's Lux's staff elevator, familiar except for how there's only two buttons on the panel.

Gabriel presses the button for Lucifer's penthouse, wondering whether this isn't the dead scientist guy's cell after all, or whether Lucifer just took control of it for his own purposes.

When the elevator doors open, Gabriel's head snaps up in alarm. He's finally too close to avoid tasting-touching-hearing Lucifer, and before he even knows what he's looking at, he regrets it. Lucifer's Grace is in agony.

He flinches away, retreating deeper into the elevator. There's nowhere to go.

Lucifer hasn't seen him. He doesn't seem to see anything but the person in front of him--not really a person, Gabriel can immediately tell. It's as fake as everything else is here, as fake as his own pocket dimension actors.

As Gabriel watches, Lucifer brings up an angel blade and kills the person in front of him. His Grace screams--I don't want this--and Gabriel echoes it back involuntarily.

"I'm sorry," Lucifer chokes, and he steps away enough this time for Gabriel to see how wet his face is. His angel blade appears back in his hand.

"It's okay," the fake person soothes, just before succumbing to its wounds. It's only silent for a few seconds before it's hale and whole again, standing across from Lucifer on its own power, ready for the slaughter.

With great reluctance, Gabriel forces himself out of the corner he'd wedged himself into. He forces his Grace to stop shuddering. Lucifer can't tell either way, but Gabriel's act needs to be as real to him as it is to other people.

The moment he crosses the line from the elevator into the penthouse, the fake person's head turns to him. After a second, a noticeable lag in his reaction time, Lucifer follows its gaze.

Lucifer looks wrecked, and there's no room left on his face for the confusion Gabriel can taste in his Grace. Lucifer looks at Gabriel like he's begging for help, and it's so out of place with this cold, awful Grace, that it gets Gabriel moving again.

He's completely tense, his eyes flitting between Lucifer and the fake person. He remembers, late, that he's supposed to make a quip. "You know, I thought hell was all about the parties. I'm disappointed," Gabriel says, with a gesture at the empty penthouse.

"Gabriel," Lucifer stammers, looking between him and the fake person who is, for the moment, safe from being stabbed. "What-?"

Lucifer chokes on his words, and Gabriel isn't known for his patience. "I'm your single-man rescue mission." He waves at the elevator. "Come on. There are people waiting for you out there."

Instead of responding, Lucifer turns his eyes back to his victim. "Uriel..."

Gabriel looks sharply at the fake. "Uriel?" he echoes.

"I can't leave," Lucifer says. "He's here. I can't leave him."

Uriel smiles back at him, and reaches for the angel blade stuck between his ribs. It's not Lucifer's, Gabriel notes for the first time. It's not an Archangel blade. Is it Uriel's?

Had Lucifer killed Uriel with their own blade, just like he did Gabriel?

Uriel pulls the blade out of their vessel with a short groan, stumbling. Lucifer rushes to catch him before he falls.

There's no Grace spilling out of Uriel's vessel, which snaps Gabriel back to reality. None of this is real. Out of all people, he should know how duplicitous illusions can be.

Though, when Gabriel calms down enough to think, he realizes something odd. Lucifer shouldn't have his vessel here, in hell with him. Lucifer's vessel is lying dead in some hospital bed on earth, waiting for Gabriel to bring him back.

In this universe, demons don't take vessels. That's what Maze had said. Is it the same for angels? Did they get a human form, what, granted to them by the Heavens?

All this to say, Uriel dies silently, without fanfare, with no one to see it except for Lucifer's shaking form. Gabriel swallows.

Uriel is reanimated two more times before Gabriel composes himself enough to speak.

"None of this is real," he says. "You do know that, right?"

Lucifer lowers the blade inch by inch as he turns to look at Gabriel. He looks hopeless. "It was. I did this to myself, brother. Hell doesn't lie." His voice breaks.

Gabriel flinches back from the reaching Grace, snapping back in warning, like a cornered animal. Lucifer doesn't react.

Of course he doesn't, he can't even tell. Lucifer's knows nothing about his own Grace, much less that of others. Gabriel reminds himself that despite what Lucifer said, they're not brothers, not really. Not in any way that matters.

Gabriel looks at Uriel, and Uriel tells him, "You're not the Gabriel I know, are you?"

Gabriel ignores the fake. All it's here for is to keep Lucifer trapped.

"Uriel is the only one here." Gabriel's face is set into stone as he talks. "In this place designed to torture you. Is he the only angel you've ever killed, or just the only one you've regretted?"

Lucifer isn't looking at Uriel anymore. "They've died on my watch," he tells Gabriel. "I'll always feel responsible for that. But Uriel... Uriel, I killed him with my own hands."

His eyes well up with fresh tears as he looks back at Uriel. Uriel looks back at him without a drop of anger or fear--there's only pity in their expression when Lucifer starts crying again in earnest.

Lucky bastard. Gabriel ran out of tears for his siblings a long, long time ago.

Uriel is the only angel Lucifer has ever killed, and he feels bad enough about it that hell is using it to torture him. It's inconceivable. Even if this wasn't Lucifer--and despite every single difference, his Grace is unmistakably sharp--no one in Gabriel's family would give a damn about killing their brethren. Not anymore.

Gabriel steps forward, catching the angel blade in his fist and wrenching it to the side so he can look Lucifer in the eyes. It's a complete fake, and it doesn't even leave a mark on his palm. Lucifer seems stunned.

"I've killed before," Gabriel tells him. "During the Fall. I don't know any angel without blood on their hands."

The fake Uriel tries to get their attention, but Gabriel keeps his grip on the blade and Lucifer's focus on him.

He's deadly serious when he says, "Killing a sibling... It's not something you ever forget, or forgive. You won't ever stop feeling it, and maybe you deserve to feel guilty."

Lucifer swallows. He doesn't let go of Uriel's blade.

Gabriel persists. "You don't deserve to be stuck down here. There are people waiting for you up there, and you could do so much more good there than you ever could in hell. If nothing else, believe that you don't deserve to be stuck down here."

Lucifer's grip on the blade loosens. After a second or two, he lets go completely. Gabriel takes the blade and tosses it to the side, not taking his eyes off Lucifer.

"Do you really believe that?" fake Uriel asks in a soft tone, standing at Gabriel's shoulder.

Lucifer swallows, and Gabriel can feel the answer in his Grace before he ever opens his mouth.

"I have to, don't I?" Lucifer says. "I'm needed." He says it with such wonder in his tone.

"The antidote is needed," Uriel reminds him. "Stay with me, and fake Gabriel can take the formula-"

Gabriel scoffs so loudly that Uriel stops talking. He turns to address Uriel. Besides being called 'fake Gabriel', for Dad's sake- "You're kidding, right?"

It's not, in fact, kidding. Gabriel heaves a sigh at the twin looks of confusion he receives.

"If I come back without you," he tells Lucifer, "my ass'll be kicked right back here. Maze is scary about you, you know. What, you gonna be responsible for another murder?"

Lucifer's lips twitch in the briefest smile. That's a victory.

"Goodbye, Uriel," Lucifer says, regretful but decisive. He strides towards the elevator, and the fake Uriel doesn't stop him. Gabriel follows.

When the elevator doors close, Lucifer turns to Gabriel. He doesn't even wait until they're out of the cell before he asks, "Why are you here? Don't try to tell me Maze threatened you."

Gabriel leans against the wall, eyeing Lucifer from a safe distance. Oh, what the fuck, this trip has already been exhausting and near-unbearable. Might as well make it complete.

"My brother would never have gone back to hell," he says simply, watching for Lucifer's reaction. "Not to save a human, not to save any of his underlings, not even to save his family. He won't think twice-" He huffs a laugh, but there's no humor in it. He's spent. "Actually, none of my siblings will think twice about my death."

All he gets in return is a frown, Lucifer studying him for a moment. He might've had further response, but at that moment the doors open to ash-dotted basalt, and Gabriel flees the elevator.

Lucifer follows him off, and immediately, his frown deepens. "You... You're actually here."

Gabriel follows Lucifer's gaze to the ash resettling on his clothes already. He looks back up to check--none of it is settling on Lucifer. It doesn't even touch him.

"Unfortunately," he says, suddenly becoming viscerally aware of the problem he'd forcefully dismissed before.

"How are you here?" Lucifer asks.

"I think the better question is," Gabriel says, "how am I going to leave?"

He flicks his eyes upwards, like he can judge the distance from hell to earth with his sight alone. He can't, because there is no distance in the first place. He'll need to cross dimensions again.

When he averts his eyes to prevent them being blinded by ash, he catches Lucifer's expectant look. Gabriel sighs.

"I flew here," he admits. "Don't know if I have the juice make it back on my own. You can go back to your vessel, right?"

Lucifer holds up a hand to stop him there. "Is it really that hard to climb out of hell if you aren't a demon?"

"I flew," Gabriel repeats sharply. "And no, hell's not the problem."

On instinct, he unfurls his Grace to show the scars in it. A moment later, he realizes what he's doing and takes it back so hard he feels dizzy.

Of course, Lucifer doesn't notice any of that. "Then what is?"

Gabriel exhales forcefully, trying to determine whether he could recover his Grace enough to fly out on his own before he goes insane with boredom. Healing in hell? Not fucking likely. He'd be here for an eternity, and Gabriel knows a little bit about eternities.

Which leaves him with more or less one option that he hates slightly less than 'being stuck in hell for eternity'.

"I'm not at full power right now," Gabriel says, before he can think better of it. His voice is clipped, and he's not looking at Lucifer, staring into the endless abyss above them.

It's a gross understatement. His Grace is still wavering and aching from the flight in and the ensuing turmoil. He might as well have fallen, for all the Grace he has left.

"So, about that favor."

Lucifer perks up, his eyes brightening. "Oh?"

"I need you to lend me mojo," Gabriel says, and wow, that hurts to speak aloud.

"Certainly," Lucifer says, without hesitation. Then, after a moment of silence, "How am I supposed to do that?"

Gabriel scowls. This may be the stupidest decision of his life, and that bar is high.

"Shut up and listen," he says. "I need you to find yourself."

Lucifer blinks.

"And just so you know," Gabriel says, warning, "My Luci taught me this once. So if-"

Lucifer had taught him this, once. When it was just the four of them and their Parent, and Gabriel was the youngest being in creation.

"If you have complaints, take it up with him," Gabriel says, and prays to no one that he won't regret this.

It's nothing complicated. It's basic control over your own Grace, something Gabriel only had to hear once before it was ingrained as a base instinct. It's something all angels should know, and it's fucked up that this Lucifer and his siblings don't, and that's why he's telling them, Gabriel convinces himself. This is a choice he's made. His hand was not forced.

Gabriel slips into Enochian as he conveys ideas he's never heard in a human language.

"Reach out," he says. "Can you tell where you end and something else begins?"

Lucifer pulls a face. "Maybe."

"Exactly," Gabriel says. "There is no hard line between you and the universe. Do you understand?"

"Perhaps if you'd explain it in a way that makes sense," Lucifer retorts.

Gabriel scowls. "What did I just say about complaints?"

Lucifer waves that away, but keeps listening. Gabriel can see him listening.

"There's no difference between you and the universe," Gabriel says, "not really. I saw that you've already figured it out, when you tried your compulsion."

Enochian is a lacking language. Or, more probably, Gabriel is lacking experience in it. He hasn't spoken it in eons. They probably have words for things like 'compulsion' now, and a million other concepts unique to mortals, but he had never had the chance to learn them.

"My compulsion?" Lucifer narrows his eyes at Gabriel.

"The same way you change them," Gabriel says, "you can change yourself. Use what is yours. Your existence holds power."

Realization dawns. "My own life-" Lucifer looks at him in a new way. He returns to English. "I'm immortal, so I can use my own life energy for whatever I want, is what you're saying?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds simple," Gabriel says, covering up how incredibly uncomfortable he is with the choice he's just made. He can't take it back, he can't un-teach Lucifer control over his Grace. He just has to hope it won't be used against him.

Yeah, right. This is Lucifer they're talking about, and Gabriel may have just signed his own death warrant.

He can't fully make himself believe that. Disgusting, how part of him will forever be an optimist. Even when it's gotten him killed once already.

When Lucifer's Grace reaches out this time, it's deliberate, searching. Gabriel flinches away even more harshly than before, because pulled into some semblance of control, Lucifer's Grace feels less like an out-of-control wildfire and more like the sharpened edge of a blade.

Lucifer frowns, looking at Gabriel. "I don't think I'm doing this right."

"My bad," Gabriel says, giving a great theatrical sigh along with it. "Try again."

If he wants to get out of hell, he needs help. He needs to accept Lucifer's offered help. He needs to stop being a coward about it.

This time, when Lucifer's wrong Grace reaches, Gabriel tenses up defensively, but he doesn't flinch away.
 
 
Not even a moment after Gabriel reappears, he's screaming.

Let's take a step back.

The Goddess had walked into the hospital room after She smelled the distress in there and Gabriel had simply vanished from Her senses, only to see the demon and the doctor gaping at where Gabriel was supposed to be.

"What?" The Goddess asks sharply. "What happened?"

The doctor clears her throat. "He, uh. He just flew to hell to grab Lucifer. I think. I think that's what happened."

Now that's a surprise, because until now She's been convinced he couldn't fly. Not in that state. Gabriel was worse off than Amenadiel the last time She saw them together, and Amenadiel certainly can't fly anymore.

She seeks Amenadiel out on the floor above, but when She finds him he's just as damaged as he was. Why isn't Gabriel?

"He better have," Mazikeen snaps. "If he tricked us and Lucifer's time runs out, I will tear him limb from limb."

"Yes, Maze," Doctor Martin says. She takes a shaky breath. "I support you and all your violent endeavors. Or, most of them. But for now, all we can do is trust Gabriel and Lucifer. Hey, is it just me, or do our clothes look normal again?"

She doesn't get much time to think about it, because that's when Gabriel reappears. He's upright when he lands, but She can practically feel his wings collapsing in on themselves as he crumples to the floor, screaming.

She rushes to his side, feeling more than seeing the doctor crouch down next to Her. As the seconds tick by, the scream filters through gritted teeth to a keening sound that breaks Her heart. He's curled up and twitching, his wings pulled close to his body--in agony.

He's still in no state to fly. He just did it anyway. That's her stubborn little angel.

"Oh god, he's not breathing," Doctor Martin says, starting to hyperventilate herself.

Mazikeen steps in. "He doesn't need to breathe, Linda. More importantly-"

The Goddess finally looks up to Lucifer, checking him over with Her body's sight as She had done before with Her essence. He looks wrecked, panting from whatever the human heart-starting devices did, but he's fine. Still wounded, of course, but fine.

Lucifer isn't badly wounded enough that She's felt the need to heal him. He's not suffering, he hasn't even noticed the injury he sustained on a metaphysical level. She'll tell him when he needs to know, and not a moment before.

Lucifer hesitates, lingering half a second with his eyes on Gabriel's crumpled form. Only when Maze shouts at him, "Get your ass moving, we've got him," does he run out of the door.

It's sweet. She can remember when Lucifer and Gabriel would start the biggest fights, and nowadays, they'd rescue each other from hell. If only they'd do it for Her, too, right? But She won't complain. She'll treasure what She has.

Neither Lucifer nor Gabriel are as the Goddess remembers. They actually seem like the kind of people who can get along now. They've grown a lot while She was locked up, and She missed all of it. It felt like a betrayal when Amenadiel told her that She doesn't know Her children, but the more She sees of them, the more She knows he's right.

As long as She can get to know them again, the Goddess won't complain.

"Do we-" Doctor Martin is beside herself. "Do we, uh, should we take him somewhere? It's a hospital, there's gotta be something we can do."

She's never been the best at fixing things, but She does what She can. She soothes the pain, Her mind passing over old injuries She doesn't remember Gabriel getting. He's stretched himself too thin.

"And," Doctor Martin looks frantically between Her and Mazikeen both. "And why is he covered in... soot, or whatever? Lucifer didn't come back covered in soot!"

"Lucifer didn't physically go to hell," Mazikeen drawls. "Relax, Linda, he'll be fine now."

"You don't have to sound so disappointed about it," the Goddess says waspishly.

Demons and their impertinence. It's a shame Lucifer likes this one, or She'd simply have obliterated it the first time it looked at Her like that.

"So," Doctor Martin says, "So, it's fine?"

"Yes." The Goddess gives the doctor a dismissive wave. "You're no longer needed."

The demon actually hisses at Her for that, like some sort of reptile. The audacity.

Gabriel has finally stopped twitching and shuddering, and has fallen into some semblance of human sleep. It's probably good for him. The Goddess finds it a waste of time, personally, but She's not the one injured, is She?

Her sons came back to Her, as She knew they would. That's all that matters.

Chapter Text

For a long time after that particular jaunt, Gabriel does his best to avoid the Celestial Planning Party members.

It's not particularly hard. He has his hands full. He fixes the front door Maze broke manually, without using Grace, and tells himself he just didn't think of calling the repair service. He stays home for a couple of days.

He's home so often--definitely not hiding--that he starts actually paying attention to the odd occurrences that have been haunting him ever since he moved in.

It's nothing big, mostly noises that can be explained by a dozen things, but they feel oddly... targeted.

The second day in a row that Gabriel comes home, he finds a colony of spiders setting up inside his bedroom. At least a dozen adult spiders, with no eggs, and some half-formed webs that they're still working on. Gabriel opens his bedroom window for insects to come in, and leaves them be.

When he enters the bathroom for the first time in weeks to give it a customary dusting, he finds a message written on the bedroom mirror in long-dried red paint: WE DON'T WANT YOU HERE. Gabriel rolls his eyes and lets the mirror eat the paint.

Here's the thing: the building isn't haunted. Someone is just trying very hard to make him believe it is. Too bad they chose him to try and play this trick on, because Gabriel does not give a damn.

Determined to avoid certain people or not, Gabriel isn't someone who can live without annoying others regularly. He still spends a lot of time exploring Los Angeles, blending in with the humans. He avoids all the demon-run bars for the time being.

Maze still finds him, of course. A week after Gabriel left the hospital, she flops down at his table in a beachside café and groans, "It's so boring."

"Yeah, it's nothing like the beach pornos make it out to be," Gabriel says. "Where are all the naked ladies, right?"

"Right!" Maze vehemently agrees. "I was promised beach debauchery, and what do I get? But no, I was talking about everyone I like sulking around." She gives him a warning glare. "You're not sulking, are you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Gabriel says, like a liar.

"Good." Maze rolls her eyes, leaning back enough that her chair is balancing on its back legs. "Better than some people I know."

She gestures at the hostess. "Sex on the Beach."

The hostess clears her throat, gripping her notepad. "We don't, uh, we don't serve..."

Maze stares her down, and the hostess gives in. "I'll get you one, ma'am."

"Hey, you're an angel," Maze says, turning to Gabriel like she'd just remembered. "You've dealt with Lucifer's bullshit for longer than I have. How do you get everyone to ignore him when he does something stupid?"

Her eyes are imploring. Gabriel stares back, bewildered. She's asking him for advice on dealing with angels? Like he knows? He'd like his own advice on the sibling front, thanks.

"Just give it up," Gabriel says. "It's not happening."

"Ugh," Maze says, slumping in her chair. "You're worthless."

Taking another sip of his iced lemonade, Gabriel studies her. He wasn't going to ask, but... "What did he do?"

"He ran off," Maze grumbles. "He does that all the time, but now everyone's sad about it because he won't call." The mocking lilt to her voice is clear. "I told him human friends were a bad idea."

The hostess, panting slightly from her run to an entirely different building, returns to Gabriel's table with a cocktail. "Here you go, ma'am."

Maze acknowledges her for the briefest moment before she goes back to complaining. "No one wants to throw a girl's night anymore, and it pisses me off. Are they just going to wallow until he's back? Wimps."

Gabriel will drink to that. "Wimps," he agrees, lifting his glass.

"Okay, you don't get to do that when you're not drinking. That doesn't look alcoholic."

Gabriel grins. "It's the sweetest strawberry lemonade in the city so far. No alcohol can top this." Also, alcohol tastes awful.

Maze looks at him like he's insane. "You're insane. Get up, jackass, we're getting real drinks."

She slaps too much money onto the café table and kicks Gabriel's chair out from under him. He dances away, far enough out of reach to drain the rest of his lemonade before he follows along.

The following days are admittedly entertaining. Maze doesn't ask about angels again, instead choosing to take her aggression out on the nearby environment. Gabriel is an enabler. They kill a particularly persistent dickhead together.

Gabriel is almost genuinely cheerful by the time he makes his way back to his apartment. It's only dampened by the thought that's been creeping at the edges of his mind all this time: he hasn't been stabbed in the back yet.

Why the hell not? So many mistakes, so many open opportunities to hurt him, and no one in this universe has taken advantage. His self-recriminations are looking more ridiculous by the day, and Gabriel can't stand that.

His front door has been broken again, and Gabriel rolls his eyes, stepping inside. It's been only once he looks around the apartment properly that he starts to suspect it wasn't Maze who broke in this time.

Everything is broken. Literally everything. Anything with glass has been shattered, the couch and bed have been ripped apart, the cupboards have had their doors torn off. Gabriel feels vaguely affronted.

Look, he didn't care about this building very much from the start. It's an official residence for the sake of blending in with humans, nothing more. But if someone is working this hard to get him to leave...

Gabriel is a petty person. He walks out only for as long as it takes to find an appropriately large dumpster.

He still doesn't care enough to actually go after whoever is messing with his apartment, but he sure can make their life more difficult. It's not like he has anything better to do. It's time to actually make some kind of home base.

Maybe he'll even make use of the long-abandoned shop on the ground floor, just to piss that person off more. Pissing people off is his specialty.

It takes barely any time to teleport all the wrecked furniture directly to the dumpster. Replacing it only takes any longer because Gabriel is very particular about his design choices. If this'll be his home for the foreseeable future, he'll make it his home.

And also because, after installing a brand new oven in a matter of seconds, he had to lie down until the wave of pain passed.

He'd thought he was healing, damn it. He'd come back to awareness in that hospital feeling stronger than he should have after a flight to hell, and he figured at the time that Lucifer... That what happened in hell had sped up his recovery. He thought he could do this much, at least.

Nope. He's not much better off than he was. His Grace is healing, but it's healing at a sluggish pace, and the lack of progress is killing him. Figuratively.

It's uniquely frustrating to have access to only a smidge of the power he had before. He couldn't use much of it before either, because that would be like sending up a beacon of 'archangel here!' to any and all of the people he'd been running away from, but at least he knew that he had it if he ever needed it.

Gabriel doesn't like feeling vulnerable.

He abandons his nest-in-progress to seek out Amenadiel. There's a conversation long overdue between them. Last time he tried to start it, Gabriel was distracted by the Goddess, but he won't be so easily distracted this time.

He doesn't have to go door-to-door this time. Maze found out he didn't even have a phone, and made him get one, because her bounty skills are coveted and she wasn't going to waste them on Gabriel anymore. When he messages her, she gleefully hands over Amenadiel's contact info over. 'Can I watch?'

Gabriel replies that he's not planning to torture Amenadiel, and he gets a pouty face emoji in response.

Amenadiel agrees to meet him, though he insists on a particular location.

It's outside of the police station Gabriel first met Lucifer in. There's a coffee shop right across the street, part of a large chain, and that's where Amenadiel wanted to meet.

"Didn't peg you for a coffee guy," is the first thing Gabriel says when he stops at Amenadiel's table. It's elbow-high; Amenadiel looks comfortable standing.

He doesn't spare more than a glance at Gabriel's approach. He keeps his eyes on the windows.

"Oh, I'm not," Amenadiel says. "I think it's disgusting. But I'm prepared to make a few sacrifices."

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. "What for? I didn't ask you to meet here."

Looking tired all of a sudden, Amenadiel sighs. "It's Luci," he says. "I'm doing a favor for him, until he returns from... wherever he ran off to."

Asking further might lead them down paths Gabriel would rather avoid. He's not here to discuss the hospital incident. He redirects, "It's one crisis after another with you and Lucifer, huh? I bet the drama will come back with him, so take advantage of the break while you can."

"I actually wanted to talk to you, too," Amenadiel reveals. "About something you said to me."

Gabriel summons a lollipop with a twist of his hand. This'll take a while. "About your 'fall', am I right?"

The hope on Amenadiel's face is so blatant it's painful. "You told me back then... that I hadn't fallen."

"That's exactly what I wanted to have a chat about." Gabriel rests his chin on one palm, studying Amenadiel without blinking.

He's maybe two heads taller than Gabriel's current vessel, in the exact same outfit as Gabriel first met him in, and carries around some lethal puppy dog eyes. His Grace is fully stable, not actively draining, but not healing either.

Amenadiel gestures for him to go on, though he keeps glancing out of the windows, at the front of the police station.

"You've been living like this for a while, haven't you," Gabriel muses. "When did it happen? When did you 'fall'?"

It obviously pains Amenadiel to speak of this. He lowers his gaze to his coffee cup before he answers. "It was a gradual process, so it's hard to say when exactly it started... I noticed after I was stabbed by a demon blade. That hurt, obviously, and from there I just started feeling worse, losing more and more of myself."

"And you don't think it has anything to do with the stab wound?" Gabriel is skeptical.

Amenadiel explains, "I was completely healed. Perhaps it's because I accepted help from a demon in order to save myself... Perhaps that's what made me unworthy."

The self-recrimination tastes bitter in Michael's remaining Grace. Gabriel's jaw clenches.

"Let me get this straight," he says, rolling the lollipop around in his mouth, "a demon healed you?"

"Maze," Amenadiel says. "She had one of Luci's feathers hidden away, from before he burned his wings."

He's about to say more, but Gabriel stops him, blinking owlishly. "Burned?"

With a humorless chuckle, Amenadiel confirms. "He cut them off years ago, but after a human got their hands on the remnants, he decided to burn them. It might have been for the best, in the end."

That's fucked up. Grace doesn't burn--not unless it's crystallized into something permanent and flammable. Is Amenadiel saying that angels here have real, physical wings?

And a feather made of pure Grace healed him, in that case, so why...

"Maze," Gabriel said urgently. "When you said she had it hidden away, do you mean she healed you without Lucifer's involvement at all?"

Amenadiel frowns at his tone. "Lucifer was chasing a criminal at the time, yes. After I was injured, he entrusted me to Maze's care."

Gabriel huffs. "Well, there's your issue."

"What?"

"Angel feathers-" Gabriel emphasizes the term as Amenadiel knows it- "can do a lot more than just healing. Maybe it did something, but without direction, with a demon of all things wielding it, it's not crazy to think something went wrong."

Slowly, Amenadiel says, "Divine essence always does what's needed of it. Intent should be enough."

"Always?" Gabriel asks sharply. "Or do you mean, anytime the angel who that 'essence' belongs to knows what needs to be done?"

Amenadiel looks troubled at that.

Gabriel scowls. "I don't care if Luci threw them out with yesterday's garbage, those wings are still his. They'll always be his, just like your archangel blade will always be yours, no matter who else wields it."

He's barely paying attention to his explanation, because there's another problem. Gabriel's scowl deepens. If the improperly treated wound damaged Amenadiel's Grace deeply enough to make him think he fell, over a longer period of time... How did it stop bleeding? And, more importantly, why isn't it healing?

Even Gabriel's Grace is healing. Not well, not quickly, but he's recovered more than Amenadiel has.

"Am I..." Amenadiel says slowly. "Am I still injured in some way?"

"No," Gabriel says, without pause. "No, if you were still losing Grace, you'd be dead, not 'fallen'. By all rights, you should be able to heal now. Why the hell aren't you healing?"

"Sorry?" Amenadiel offers.

Gabriel heaves a sigh, pushing away the disappointment. "Congratulations, buddy, you're a medical mystery."

If he could fix Amenadiel, he could probably fix himself. Too bad he has no idea how to fix Amenadiel. He may be the worst possible choice of angel to help Amenadiel, considering he's spent eons running away from anything Grace-related--he doesn't know jack shit compared to someone like Raphael.

But Raphael isn't here, Gabriel is. They'll just have to deal.

Amenadiel stares into the depths of his coffee for a minute, before he looks up at Gabriel again. "So what you're saying is, I haven't fallen after all."

"No offense," Gabriel says, "but capital-F Falling is a little bit more than just feeling powerless. Ask any Fallen angel and I'm sure they'll tell you. Or they'll try to kill you, which is its own answer."

Half of that response is mocking, and still Amenadiel looks so damn happy about it. Good for him, Gabriel supposes. At least he got something out of this conversation.

"Now that we've established nothing helpful," Gabriel says, "I have other places to be."

"Hang on," Amenadiel says, and Gabriel stills in the middle of aiming the remains of his lollipop at the trashcan in the corner.

"What?" he says.

"Just now, you called my divine blade an 'archangel blade'," Amenadiel says. "That's in reference to rank, right? In your universe, was I one of these archangels?"

Gabriel lowers the candy stick slowly, looking at Amenadiel. Michael's Grace.

"My mistake," he says. "I keep forgetting that's something you guys don't have."

It's more like he actively tries to forget that archangels don't exist here. No archangels, no associated history, no shared sense of responsibility for the smaller siblings. Gabriel hates responsibility of any kind, but at least it was something they shared among the four of them. The absence of that bond inexplicably hurts.

Just another reminder that these aren't his siblings, and that they'll never be his siblings. No matter how much he might want them to be.

"No, it's fine," Amenadiel says. "All I meant is, that's amazing to me, those small differences. I wonder what happened in your universe to change it so much from the very start?"

"We agreed not to compare, remember?" Gabriel says, an edge to his voice.

"Yes, but with some time to process-"

"Oh, look at the time," Gabriel cuts him off with a faux-airy voice, glancing at the watch he's suddenly wearing. "I have a thing I need to get to, somewhere other than here. Gotta run."

As he walks away, he hears Amenadiel call his name, and then a curse as Amenadiel realizes his hand seems to be superglued to his cup.

In that moment of distraction, Gabriel slips into the street crowd. As soon as he's out of sight of the glass walls of the coffee shop, he changes his face to mimic some other bland man he passes.

Amenadiel won't catch him. Gabriel has too much experience running.

Chapter Text

A new place opens in one of Los Angeles' business districts. Approved and opened impossibly quickly, but no one needs to know that.

It's a travel agency, and it's built entirely out of spite. Gabriel could care less about the job itself, but the hatred wafting towards him every time he sits at the agency's counter is delicious. He's having the time of his life.

Poimandres gets a reputation quickly, and it gets its first attempt at corporate sabotage even quicker. It's amazing, the amount of effort LA businesses put into crushing upcoming competitors under their boot while they're still small enough to fit. And by amazing, Gabriel means disgusting. Too bad for them that they're messing with a trickster, and he's not going to allow it. This is his place.

Look, Gabriel is not a customer service kind of guy. That's never been in question. With a job like this one, though? He gets to study people up close, and if they're assholes, he gets to dump them on the worst trip of their lives. What's not to love?

It takes only two days of basking in the resentment of his mysterious foes before Maze stops by.

"Really," she says. "Really? This is what you picked over underground cage fights?"

Gabriel spins a pen between his fingers. "It was a tough decision, but one I had to make," he says dramatically, before taking another gummy from the jar.

"Are those drugged too?" Maze asks.

"Obviously."

"Right," Maze says. She swings one leg over the counter to reach the jar underneath, takes a handful of gummies, and starts eating.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows at the leg in his face. "Is this you propositioning me? Because if so, meow."

"This is for abandoning me for a real job," she says with audible disgust, and then she pulls a face to match. "Ugh, these are also way too sweet. You have terrible taste."

Gabriel pushes his office chair away from the counter, and does a little spin for good measure when he has enough space to. He could get used to this. "You keep saying that, and you keep stealing my candy."

"Uh, yeah, 'cause it's drugged." Maze packs them away in record time. "What's with the name, anyway? Is it French? Think carefully before you answer."

What does she have against French? "It's Greek, actually. Didn't ask permission, but I'm sure Hermes would think it's hilarious."

Maze looks at him like he's crazy. "Her-who?"

Gabriel waves it away. "Trickster god of travelers, thieves, et cetera. Not important." He misses Hermes. "Get off my counter, Maze, you're gonna seduce all my customers away with that."

"Make me," Maze challenges, reaching for his jar of gummies again.

With a snap of his fingers, Maze's combat boots grow wings. She yelps as they drag her into the air and towards the door of the agency.

Mid-air, she wrestles one of the boots off her feet and throws it at his head with deadly accuracy. Gabriel just barely ducks it, letting it leave a dent in the wall behind him.

"I'm keeping that," he says, just to be petty.

On the third day, Poimandres gets robbed.

It's not unexpected. His ghosts have made it clear they're willing to take drastic measures to evict him.

There are three guys in total, wearing masks and wielding handguns. "Get on the ground," the leader shouts at Gabriel, firing off a warning shot into the ceiling.

He plays along, falling to his knees and cupping his hands behind his head. He looks every bit the scared human they want him to be.

The leader looks around for an easy target, and when he doesn't find one, he waves his gun around dangerously. "Raid it," he orders the goons.

"Raid what?" Goon #1 asks.

The leader makes a sharp gesture. "There has to be a vault somewhere around here."

Okay, he's had about enough of the clown show.

"Cut the crap," Gabriel says. "We both know you're not here for cash three days after the opening."

"You, shut up," Goon #2 barks.

Gabriel drops his hands to gesture with, but he doesn't make a move other than that. "You guys. You're my stalkers, right? Gotta say, not into it. The only gift I've actually liked were the spiders, and you didn't even leave them food, I had to stop by the pet store myself."

"I will shoot you," the leader growls.

"Woah, bucko, at least buy me dinner before you penetrate me," Gabriel grins at him. "What's your deal? Why do you want me gone?"

"This is our place," the leader says, waving the gun at Gabriel's head for emphasis.

"Hey-" Goon #1 protests.

"You're ruining everything," the leader persists. "But if you won't leave, well, another death here will only feed the ghost story, won't it?"

Amenadiel is a good brother. He does what's asked of him, even if Lucifer is a dick for asking it. That's nothing new.

He's seen a lot of crime scenes in the two weeks he's been watching over Chloe, and he's getting sick of them. He doesn't know how Lucifer does this all the time--the procedural, the corpses, the sad humans.

This next crime scene breaks the pattern. Mostly because, when Amenadiel arrives closely behind Chloe, he sees Gabriel lounging at the building's reception, giving a statement to an officer Amenadiel doesn't know. On the floor to his left is a dead body in a ski mask.

He can't just walk into the crime scene, which frustrates Amenadiel to no end. Thankfully, Gabriel seems to simply know he's there--the minute the officer walks away, Gabriel catches Amenadiel's eye and waves.

Amenadiel jerks his head in a pointed gesture, and Gabriel shrugs, standing up. He slips through the crowd of police officers without a problem, while Amenadiel waits impatiently.

"What's all this?" Amenadiel asks as soon as Gabriel nears him.

"Bad for my business, is what it is," Gabriel responds, pulling another piece of candy from thin air.

"You," Amenadiel raises his eyebrows, "have a business?"

"Barely a couple days, and it already got robbed," Gabriel laments. "Isn't it terrible?"

"Is that one of the robbers, then?"

Gabriel waves a hand. "Who woulda thunk? In the middle of the robbery, some other guy came in, said-" He puts on a bad foreign accent for this- "'Someone willing to give a lot of money for your head, comrade', and shot their leader. They scattered after that. Crazy shit."

He's having fun with this. Amenadiel gives him a deadpan look. "Seriously?"

Gabriel throws up his hands and goes, "They were robbing me, what was I supposed to do?"

"What do you mean, what- Anything except killing them! You're invulnerable." And Amenadiel isn't jealous of that at all, he really isn't.

"They were rude!"

With a scoff, Amenadiel says, "I take it back, you're just like the Gabriel I know."

"They were selling drugs to kids!" Gabriel protests.

Amenadiel stares. "How do you even know that? They were robbing you?"

With a shrug that explains nothing, Gabriel unwraps a new piece of candy.

Amenadiel shakes his head, gathering his thoughts. "There's a dead body there, how can you still enjoy sweets?"

"Coping mechanism," Gabriel says, bland, with no effort spared to make it sound believable.

Something else occurs to Amenadiel. "Did you... Did you not fall?"

That gets a real frown out of Gabriel. "What are you talking about?"

"You did," Amenadiel hesitates, "kill that human, didn't you? Angels aren't allowed to kill humans."

He's just repeating, for emphasis, something they all know, but Gabriel falls silent at it. A range of emotions flit over his face in the form of micro-expressions--Amenadiel laments the loss of his time-slowing powers again.

Slowly, Gabriel repeats, "When you kill a human, you fall?"

Amenadiel is taken aback. Why does this sound like it's news to Gabriel?

"You have a hard rule like that?" Gabriel asks.

Frowning, Amenadiel responds, "Are you saying... you don't?"

Gabriel laughs. It's a sharp and bitter sound. "No wonder your world is the way it is. You actually got instructions?"

It feels like there's no correct way to answer that, so Amenadiel stays silent.

Gabriel scoffs, shakes his head. He turns on his heel to head back into the shop, and speaks into open air. "Get lost, Amenadiel. Poimandres isn't going to fix itself."

No one is saying it, but Chloe just knows everyone is looking at her.

Ever since Lucifer waltzed back into the precinct, like he had any right to be there after his unannounced two-week absence, it feels like everyone has been watching her to see when she'll snap.

That's not going to happen. Lucifer isn't something to get upset about, and neither is his arm-Candy. Chloe has been very consciously and meticulously focused on her work.

Homicide is messy, as a division. There are always a dozen open, unrelated cases, and never enough manpower, and just because her partner took off on her, that doesn't mean her case load got any lighter. She has plenty to do. Since she's still waiting on Dan to confirm an ex-wife's alibi, Chloe leaves the Ash Corrigan homicide open on her desk, and directs her attention to the Poimandres case.

A brand new business, robbed on its third day open--it's weird, it stinks of corporate sabotage, but that's not her department. She's here for the seemingly unrelated murder of Mark Laurens, one of the robbers.

There's not a lot to go on. The other robbers had fled by the time police arrived at the scene, and until those criminals are tracked down--which is, again, not her department--they only have the witness testimony of one Gabriel Novak, brand new business owner. One of Lucifer's friends, because of course it would be.

Chloe opens the file she'd put right next to it for reference. It's the Verst case, another unsolved mark on her closing rate. Novak was brought in as a suspect for that one, which made Chloe look extra critically at Lawson's death yesterday.

Both cases are downright weird. In the Verst case, Chloe is pretty sure of her theory on the initial murder, but it doesn't line up with the 'revenge' theory for the second murder, because they can't find a likely suspect. In the Poimandres case, they weren't able to find any witnesses to the murder other than Novak, despite it being on a busy street in the business district at mid-day. Some people interviewed on scene said they saw the two remaining robbers running away, but no one they've spoken to saw this supposed third party hitman.

Though Ella's examination did line up with Novak's statement, placing the gun he was shot with in the hands of someone standing in the entryway. The reception that Novak claimed he'd been at the entire time was across the room from the entrance. So all Chloe has is a gut feeling and no evidence to tie Novak to either murder.

It's terrible, but Chloe has pretty much given up on solving the Verst case by now. Verst's wife believes she knows the truth about the first murder and she doesn't care about who committed the second murder, and it seems the second victim didn't have close friends or family besides Verst. Chloe has more urgent cases to focus on, fresher leads to follow.

At least in the Poimandres case, they have more angles to explore. Some kind of mob connection, perhaps. Mark Lawson wasn't known to Organized Crime--Chloe made inquiries yesterday--but not just anyone gets a hitman sent after them, so it may indicate involvement. There's also a possibility that the robbers will be caught, and Chloe could interrogate them about Lawson and any possible enemies his crimes could have made him.

Which means there's nothing more she can do on her own for either of these cases, and she should really be working the Corrigan case any way she can, except that's the case Lucifer is butting into and Chloe doesn't want him interfering--not in her case, and not in her thoughts.

Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer. It's always about Lucifer. Chloe decided a long time ago that half her mind would be dedicated to Trixie, and half would be dedicated to her detective work, and Lucifer came in and threw that perfectly good system out the window with his shenanigans. It's usually fine because he helps her work an extraordinary amount, but for the past two weeks he's been the opposite of helpful, and he's still occupying Chloe's thoughts all the time. She has cases to work, she doesn't have time for this nonsense.

In the end, it doesn't matter. The nonsense comes knocking anyway.

Chapter Text

Work at Poimandres has been downright peaceful lately, and Gabriel is almost getting bored before it hits him.

Not much of a hit, to be honest. It's more of a nudge, or a tap. It makes him perk up and pay attention. It's the end of a rope cast out in front of him, for him to take at will.

Gabriel has some time before his next planned appointment in the afternoon, and he's a curious bastard. He takes the rope.

Between blinks, he's no longer sitting in his spinny chair, but standing at the edge of some suburban backyard. Behind him is a path around the house, and in front of him is... a congregation.

"-baked of home and heart, made by devoted hands."

Gabriel settles on the stacked stones of an interior garden wall. This is novel.

Eight people are standing around some kind of altar, silent except for the woman leading the invocation. They don't look like cultists, but their environment speaks to the opposite. The yard has a high wooden fence, and all along it, ancient futhark runes are carved and painted in. Unused torches are stacked against one stone wall. The altar has even more runes inscribed on runestones--Hagalaz and Dagaz, specifically--as well as various herbs, crystals, and the aforementioned loaf of bread 'made by devoted hands'.

They haven't noticed him yet, so Gabriel summons a lollipop and watches.

"Grant us the sanctuary to see us through hard times. Evoke the change we seek, for better or worse.

"We give that you will give, for joy and wisdom, a gift for a gift."

There's a moment of silence, which Gabriel breaks. "What do we have here?"

Half the group visibly startles, and all eyes turn towards him. Unconcerned, Gabriel sucks on his lollipop.

"Dude," one of the younger guys says, upset. Before he can keep going, the lady who was speaking before holds up a hand to stop him.

"Hello," she says, patient but firm. "We're in the middle of a blót. If you're interested, you can stay, but please don't interrupt."

Gabriel hums. He hasn't seen anyone perform a Norse ritual in at least two thousand years, and he's never been summoned by one before.

"Is this common?" he asks, nodding towards the simple altar. "Worshipping pagan gods?"

The leader sets her shoulders. "More common than you'd think."

"Well, don't let me stop you," Gabriel says.

There are some surprised faces, like they'd expected more resistance, but after a few moments they continue the ritual.

Gabriel is pretty sure these kinds of cults, or congregations, or whatever, were not around in his home universe. Apparently they're not only around, here, but common. No wonder he's been managing so many things without Grace, if belief in Loki persists despite the lack of any pagan presences on this earth.

Maybe it's not 'despite' at all. Because this universe... The demons are less inclined to violence, and angels do perform miracles sometimes, and there are no pagans to start wars between their followers or undermine each other. The supernatural is softer here.

The leader starts up singing, and most of the group follows her lead. It's some kind of poem about Aesir and Vanir that Gabriel hasn't heard before. One girl, one who looks like she's barely out of high school, ducks her head and only starts singing along with the chorus at the very end.

He should probably wipe their memories, or spell their mouths shut, when it comes to this specific ritual. He doesn't want it spreading, whatever they did to summon him.

When the leader starts a prayer for the whole group, she keeps her voice low, likely to keep Gabriel from listening. She's not accounting for celestial hearing.

"Loki," she says, "Bringer of Change, Mother of Monsters, Father of Strife, I reach for your wisdom. These are times of change, and we must change with them. It's nice to meet you. We're reaching out to you for the first time for the sake of our newest member, that you may help her if it suits you. Lily?"

Lily, the girl who looks like she's barely out of high school, heaves a breath before she says anything. "Hi Loki. Um." She speaks at an even quieter murmur than the leader did, like she's ashamed. "There's this person at work... He found out I'm trans, and he's been making me feel bad about it ever since. And... I can't make him stop. I can't leave. I need to complete my internship there, I need to be strong, but I don't know anyone there, and it's so..."

The person next to Lily takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly when she falls silent.

Lily gathers the courage to continue. "You know what that's like, right...? So I thought, maybe... If I have to be an outcast, I can do it my way, right?"

She looks at the leader, and the leader nods back.

Lily says, "Even if nothing changes, I can get through it if I know there's someone like me on my side. So, can I talk to you again sometime?"

She bows her head for a second, and when she raises it again, she meets several smiling faces. The leader says, "Well done, Lily," and Lily smiles back.

The leader directs her words towards the altar again. "Thank you for hearing us. Go if you must, stay if you will."

This must be the sign of the ritual's end, because the kind-of regular circle starts breaking apart into clumps of people, chatting softly with each other. Several turn to praise Lily.

Slowly, they start filtering out via the garden path, giving Gabriel odd glances as they pass him. They're discussing some kind of potluck, it sounds like. Only the leader of the group stays behind, starting to clean up the altar.

When Lily passes right by him, Gabriel reaches out to tap her shoulder. She turns her attention to him, wary.

"This guy you work for," Gabriel says, his light touch lingering. "Who is he?"

Lily looks startled, since she didn't expect him to have heard much of anything. She looks down, and mumbles, "My manager."

It's not much to go on, but he wasn't expecting her to give him a full name either. The surface of her soul speaks enough, and Gabriel withdraws his hand.

Human souls are so easily marked, by anything and everything that they experience. This douchebag left a mark as well, and Gabriel can trace that.

He won't kill the guy, but he can't let this go either.

"Don't worry," he tells Lily. "Assholes like that tend to get what they deserve."

She nods hesitantly, not sure what to make of him, and turns away to follow the rest of her group.

The leftover lollipop stick Gabriel has been idly chewing on for a while is tossed into the short grass, and after a moment where no one is paying quite enough attention, a crow is perched on the stone garden wall instead of a person. It cocks its little head, searching out one particular soul.

It's not far. Without a sound, the crow takes to the air, starting its hunt and leaving behind an empty space and several startled faces.

The precinct is unusually subdued. There's not a huge difference, not the type of mood that comes with mourning, but it's enough that Lucifer starts paying attention.

"Is there something happening?" he asks, as he approaches the Detective's desk.

"Good morning to you too, Lucifer," she says, distracted. She's sorting through files. "Ella asked me about a specific case. She's consulting for a murder in Stockton."

"A murder that's related to your case?" Lucifer guesses.

Chloe finds the file she's looking for and gets up. "Probably. She's in there right now with one of their guys-" she gestures to the lab, and Lucifer can indeed see more than one figure inside- "who flew into LA for this. Could be big."

"In that case," Lucifer grins, "what are we waiting for?"

Chloe holds up a hand to stop him talking, even as she walks towards the lab. "Not so fast. You weren't even on this case, you were off in," a wild gesture, "Vegas, getting married. This is my case."

"Detective," Lucifer protests. "That's all done with. Surely you can share this one with your partner?" He grins. "Especially if it's going to be interesting."

Chloe rolls her eyes, but she doesn't slam the lab door in his face, so Lucifer follows her in. That's a win.

"Oh, guys, you got it?" Ella is immediately in their faces, making grabby hands for Chloe's file.

Chloe hands it over, but she says, "I don't see the relation." She turns to the unfamiliar officer and says, "Isn't your case made to look like a suicide? What does that have to do with the mob?"

"No," Ella interrupts, "not the mob. At least, probably not. Just give me a minute here."

She takes various papers out of Chloe's file, putting them on her table, where papers are already scattered all over.

"Is this a paper jigsaw?" Lucifer asks.

"That's just my organizational system," Ella dismisses. "It makes sense. Look at these three: all dead-end cases, all impossible leads. Most cold cases have too many possibilities, too much opportunity for a murder and a getaway to pin any single suspect down. These ones? No opportunity."

"That doesn't mean they're related," Chloe says.

"No," Ella admits, "those kinds of cases do just show up sometimes. Just not in the span of," she points aggressively at the small letters on one of the papers, "five weeks."

Lucifer looks more closely at the cases, but none of them are ones he's seen before. He points at the same one Ella did. "Isn't that one an animal attack?"

"No way Jose," Ella says. "With that kind of security system? Look, I examined this guy myself, and it did look like he was mauled by a bear," she admits, "but what kind of bear knows how to avoid cameras? That's a theme too, by the way. In all these cases, the camera footage has been useless. Not a single suspicious person-" she interrupts herself briefly to mouth 'or bear' at Lucifer- "in them."

"So you're saying we're dealing with a pro," the Stockton cop says, a hand on his hip.

"Yeah," Ella says, "but not just a pro. Look again."

Lucifer looks again. It's the exact same files as he read the first time. When three uncomprehending faces stare back at her, Ella gives in and tells them.

"This one," she says, pointing to the file of Mark Lawson. "The victim was shot while threatening someone unrelated to the shooter with a gun. That one, the victim just happened to be a control freak using blackmail, and our current theory is that he was coerced or blackmailed to walk into traffic like he did."

The Stockton cop jumps in here to correct her. "According to the employee he had blackmail on, he hadn't used it against her yet. She claims she had no idea he had it."

"Right, but he did have blackmail?" Lucifer clarifies, and the Stockton cop nods an affirmative. "Was it juicy?"

That remark gets as much attention as it deserves, as both Chloe and the Stockton cop turn back to Ella without a word.

"The last one." Ella indicates the earliest case from five weeks ago, the one with the bear break-in, and says, "Detective Beck worked that one, and man, he would not stop complaining about how many enemies the victim had. Get this, he was a slumlord and living in a villa--the villa didn't protect him."

Lucifer realizes it before Ella says it. "We're dealing with another punisher."

"Exactly," Ella says, looking proud of him somehow.

Another copycat, on Lucifer's territory? Not if he has anything to say about it. Punishing people is still his shtick.

"Eliminating the mark," Chloe murmurs thoughtfully. She frowns. "It's ironic murders. Hold on a second, I'll be right back."

As Chloe shuts the lab door behind her, the Stockton cop speaks up. "Lopez, was it? I thought you were in forensics?"

"Oh, I am," Ella nods.

The Stockton cop purses his lips. "Huh."

"Yes, we can all agree Miss Lopez is a treasure we don't deserve," Lucifer says, though his mind is elsewhere.

He has the vague feeling he's forgetting something quite important.

Historically, Gabriel has a history of making himself a suspect in murder cases--both his own and unrelated murders. He resolves, for once, to stay far away from this one.

It's not that he minds being a murder suspect. Messing with the local cops can be fun in its own right. No, he can take murder accusations, but he can not risk it getting out there that Loki is real and summonable. Imagine how goddamn busy he would be all the time.

So, for once, Gabriel stays in his lane and waits for the attention to die down. It shouldn't be too hard. He'd been summoned far away enough that he had to fly back--with Grace, not with bird wings. Which is so great, by the way, delivering pagan justice and being rewarded for it with massive amounts of pain.

It's getting better. It is, even if it's hard to tell the difference while he's in pain. It takes Gabriel less time to recover, it takes him less time to feel okay again after using his Grace. He is recovering, however long it might be taking. There's no point in getting impatient.

He's getting along well enough with pagan magic, anyway. His apartment ghosts have officially been booted out--turns out his building was being used for highly illegal parties before he moved in, and this gang had been scaring off tenants for years to keep the party going. It's unfortunate Gabriel had to ruin the highly illegal parties, but he's sure they can find another place, one with a more mature audience this time.

Now he knows why engraving that lesson onto them was so easy. Magic isn't scarce, and neither is belief. That was made pretty obvious yesterday.

Gabriel seriously wasn't planning on killing cult girl's manager. He was savoring the taste of a good trick, watching the manager gradually break, messing with him face-to-faux-face... The guy just had to go and ruin it. He's way worse than cult girl made him out to be.

Well, he was. Now he's dead. So there's that.

All said, Gabriel is feeling pretty good about himself when he steps into Lucifer's penthouse. It's evening, already dark enough for the various decorative lamps to be lit up throughout the main room, and Lucifer is nowhere in sight.

"Luci?" Gabriel calls out, curious despite himself. "You wanted to see me?"

"Ah, there he is!" Lucifer appears from his bedroom, fixing the buttons on his waistcoat. Gabriel feels underdressed, but that's an inevitable consequence of spending time with Lucifer. "You've been naughty, brother."

Gabriel shifts his stance. "Excuse me?"

"It is you, isn't it? The one punishing criminals throughout California." Lucifer seems unconcerned, even pouring him a drink, but something in his tone has Gabriel tense.

"I think you're overestimating me," Gabriel says, voice amused, like Lucifer is being ridiculous. "I don't have the juice to travel all over California."

"Oh, no," Lucifer agrees. "No, not all over. You had enough to go to Stockton, though."

Gabriel eyes Lucifer silently.

"I didn't put it together immediately, you know," Lucifer says, handing him a drink. Gabriel takes it reflexively. "I didn't even think of it until the Detective handed over a second case mentioning you in it for the 'ironic murders' pile. And then there were, of course, the candy wrappers around the crime scene."

"That would do it," Gabriel agrees, keeping his voice light.

"Congratulations, you've officially been deemed a serial killer." Lucifer's smile looks extraordinarily fake, and it sets off alarms in Gabriel's head. "I remember you promised a lack of unsolvable crime sprees, way back when."

Gabriel clicks his tongue, pretending to consider it. "I did say that, didn't I? My bad."

He's hyperfocused on Lucifer--his stance, his expression, his Grace. It's the latter that's putting him on edge more than anything else.

Something is wrong. Something is deeply wrong with Lucifer's Grace, something has changed since Gabriel last tasted-touched-heard it, and not for the better. Not that it was any good in the first place.

He hadn't seen Lucifer in several weeks, because of the Las Vegas vacation Maze had told him about, but Gabriel doesn't think it necessarily started there. Something has been 'wrong' about alternate Lucifer's Grace since they first met, and until now, Gabriel chalked it up to trauma coloring his view of it.

He's starting to doubt that's the case, when Lucifer's Grace is pulsing sluggishly. There is something wrong, and it's getting worse.

Emotions can and do affect the flow of Grace, but Gabriel can't pin down what this emotion would be. Lucifer's Grace isn't nearly controlled enough yet for him to apply his dusty and unused sibling-knowledge to it.

"Are you okay?" Gabriel asks.

He abruptly regrets it. From the looks of it, he'd interrupted Lucifer in the middle of a sentence, and Lucifer is looking at him strangely. Direct questions aren't Gabriel's forte, and Lucifer knows that just as well as he does.

"Yes, of course I am," Lucifer scoffs. He rolls up his sleeves, setting his glass down on the piano wing. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Whatever, forget I said that," Gabriel says shortly, while Lucifer sits down, putting the piano in between them. "So, you've caught yourself a serial killer." Gabriel raises his eyebrows. "What are you gonna do with me?"

"What am I going to do, indeed," Lucifer mutters.

"Turn me in?" Gabriel guesses.

"Don't be ridiculous," Lucifer says. When Gabriel doesn't budge, he rolls his eyes. "No, I am not going to 'turn you in'."

Oh, so he's going to try to punish Gabriel himself, is he? He can try, but Gabriel is fairly sure now that Lucifer is in no state to fight. There's something seriously wrong.

"I was wondering," Lucifer says. "Why are you doing this? What do you get out of impersonating the Devil?"

This raises Gabriel's eyebrows with genuine surprise. "I'm doing what now?"

"Punishment," Lucifer says, like it's obvious- "karma, etcetera, those nine yards are my yards, brother. I don't appreciate people playing in them without permission."

"Okay, first of all, you didn't invent the idea of-" Gabriel falls silent when he rethinks that statement, and Lucifer gives him an all-too-familiar condescending look.

Gabriel sighs with as much drama as he can muster. "Look, you can take the trickster out of the universe, you can't take the universe out of the trickster."

He might as well have been speaking gibberish for how much that enlightens Lucifer.

"I've had this job for, oh, I don't know, three thousand years?" Gabriel lifts his hands in a shrug. "Old habits, hard to kill, yada yada. If it matters at all, I'm not seeking out any of these targets, they just keep showing up."

He shouldn't be insisting. He doesn't have to explain any of this. But sue him, Gabriel is fully on the defensive here.

"Job?" Lucifer's eyes narrow. "Did you run hell back in your world, by any chance?"

Gabriel can't stop himself from laughing. "Oh, you sweet summer child," he says. "No one runs hell. It's constantly collapsing in on itself. Burn bright, die young, etcetera."

Lucifer looks confused and increasingly concerned. "Now, hang on," he says, standing up from the piano stool. "When you say no one runs hell..."

Gabriel stops smiling.

After a second of studying him, Lucifer has something like realization in his eyes. "Right," he says quietly. Louder, "I'm dead, then, am I?"

"I don't think you really want to hear the answer to that," Gabriel says, completely genuine.

They don't fight each other that night, nor does Lucifer give any indication he wants to. He's awfully thoughtful as he dismisses Gabriel, and they part on amicable terms, much to Gabriel's lingering disbelief.

There is something up with Lucifer's Grace, and Gabriel shouldn't leave that be. For now, though, he has more pressing matters to attend.

From what Lucifer said, the cops have connected some dots. Gabriel is going to un-connect them. It shouldn't take long.

The station nearest to Lux, the one Gabriel visited all those weeks ago--that's the one Lucifer consults at. Before long, Gabriel is strolling through the doors, looking for all the world like he's supposed to be there.

Just after the elevator, he meets an officer. "Hey," Gabriel says. "Gabriel Novak. They asked me to come in for a case I was involved in, they wanted to check some things with me."

"Oh," the officer says. "The Poimandres case, right? Detective Decker is heading the case, but she's gone home already."

"Huh," Gabriel says. "Any idea who else could've called me in?"

The officer glances around the precinct before her eyes catch on something. "Miss Lopez is still here. She's a part of every case in this division, might've been her. Sorry, my shift's just ended..."

Gabriel stands aside to let her into the elevator. Lopez, was it? That sounds kind of familiar.

On his way down the stairs to the main floor, Gabriel changes outfits, becoming the officer he was just speaking to. He knocks on the door she'd indicated.

"Come in!" he hears called from inside.

"Miss Lopez," Gabriel says.

"Still Ella, Theo." Lopez does a double take when she looks up. "Didn't you go home?"

"Detective Decker asked me to pass something on," Gabriel says smoothly. "About the case you're working on together. Oh, were there other people Detective Decker involved in the case? They may want to hear this too."

"Alright, now you've got me curious," Lopez says playfully, finally stepping away from her samples. "The cop from out of town that came by today-" she leans in and stage whispers- "that was for that same case. Don't worry, though! I'll pass it on to him."

"The one from... Stockton, right?" Gabriel guesses.

"Don't pretend you don't know," Ella winks. "I know the whole precinct wanted to know what that was about. Keep it on the down low, okay? We're not sure yet what this is, so we don't want to make it a whole 'thing'."

Gabriel smiles back. "No problem."

"Don't keep me in suspense, girl!" Ella says. "What did Chloe say?"

"Right," Gabriel says. "She said you should give up on this case. There's no new leads, and it's not that important, anyway."

Ella blinks hard, but before the confusion can fully manifest, it's already melting away. "Right," she agrees hesitantly, "yeah, it's just a side project."

"There's no time for a side project," Gabriel says. "We all know that."

Ella nods along, looking sort of dazed. "Yeah, yeah, you're right. I'll get back to the urgent cases, this isn't as big as I thought it was."

The strain on his Grace melts away as Gabriel gives a cheeky salute. "Thanks for listening, Miss Lopez."

"Oh, no probs," Ella says, though she looks confused. "About the, uh....?"

"That side project," Gabriel reminds her, backing off. He hadn't moved far into the lab, so he's already through the door when she answers.

"Oh, yeah," she says, "it's not a big deal."

Gabriel hums in agreement, and leaves her behind.

Influencing people like this isn't something magic can do, to his knowledge, so the strain on his Grace is mildly worrying. And he has to do this two more times? Yikes.

Chapter Text

It's a bad day that sees this particular ghost lingering around her best friend's crime scenes.

Ella isn't happy to see her, and that's fine. It's completely fine. Azrael won't let it get to her. She's not here for a social visit, anyway, she just thought it might be nice.

If Ella doesn't want her here, she'll leave--again. Which Azrael is completely okay with. But she has something to do first, whether Ella likes it or not.

And yeah, maybe she implies she's here to help Ella with her work, and then when that falls through she implies she's here for her own personal unfinished business, and maybe Ella gets progressively more annoyed, but Azrael couldn't explain it to her. Even if there was a non-awkward way to tell your friend you've been tracking their health, Azrael still doesn't know what exactly happened. Ella was mind-invaded or something, and who knows what that did to her? Maybe there's a spy in her brain now that would try to stop Azrael from helping. It's ridiculous, but she doesn't know what the problem is, and that's making her hesitant.

Point is, Azrael is walking on eggshells, and Ella can tell. It's not sustainable.

"So, this personal business," she says eventually, when they're alone in the lab. "If it's not about the case, why are you here?"

Azrael shifts. "You have to promise you won't be mad."

Ella looks at her like she's asking, seriously?

"Fine," she says. "I'll try not to be mad."

"So I know we went our separate ways," Azrael says. "And I stuck by that, okay? But I do sometimes... check up on you. Or like, all the time."

Ella looks appalled. It's a little dramatic, if you ask Azrael. "We've talked about privacy, Ray-Ray!"

"I'm not watching you," Azrael defends. "Not really. I just use my, you know, my ghost senses, to see if there's something wrong."

Ella stops short. "Wait. Is that why you're here? Something's wrong?"

"I... I dunno." Azrael rubs her neck sheepishly. "I'm still trying to figure it out."

It's not like Ella is acting not-Ella-ish, and no one around Ella is acting like they did anything to her. It's all just people being people.

"But something's like, wrong-wrong?" Ella looks herself over, like she'll suddenly spot wounds where there weren't any before.

"What's wrong?" Chloe asks.

Ella jumps, and spins around. "Uh, nothing! I mean, this evidence, it's, it's all wrong, it's not what you'd expect, right? See..."

Slinking into the shadows, Azrael leaves Ella to her hurried explanation. If she can't see what's wrong by hanging around Ella, the next person she needs to talk to is obvious.

Azrael probably should have started with him, but, well... She didn't want to.

She knows where he lives. People have died around Lucifer and around Lux, like a lot, especially after he started working with the police. She's gotten to see him, but she's never stuck around long enough for him to see her.

She should've made contact before now, huh? Because now there's the compounded awkwardness of 'Hey, I know I never visited you in hell, but did some of the human souls relay my well wishes?' and 'I kinda need your help'.

Buckle up, buttercup, it's time to face the music. Azrael braces herself and lands on Lucifer's penthouse balcony.

He's home, which is great, really, really great. They're not wasting any time.

"Hey, Lu," Azrael says timidly.

He turns to her slowly, a glass of something-or-other in hand. "Azrael?" he laughs in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Azrael wrings her hands, and before she can change her mind, she blurts out, "I need your help."

"Oh." Lucifer's smile slips off his face. "And here I'd thought..."

She's made him sad already. Good going, Azrael. It's time to use the emergency technique she learned from Ella.

Azrael takes quick steps forward and hugs Lucifer. Lucifer just kind of freezes up and stands there, and after a few seconds, Azrael lets him go.

"Come on, Lu," she says. "You used to be such a good hugger."

"Yes, well, a couple millenia tends to change things, I'm afraid," Lucifer says, clearly uncomfortable.

"I'm really sorry for not visiting you," Azrael says. "Really really. I just, you know, I got busy, and I thought I'd wait until I had a free day, which was my mistake really because humanity just kept growing and growing and then when I saw you come to earth, it just felt weird to-"

Lucifer holds up a hand to stop her rambling. "Yes, I get it, thank you." He raises his glass to take a sip, muttering, "I'm sure it had nothing to do with the rebellion I started."

That earns him a grimace. "Yeah, maybe a little, I mean, a lot of death in the family around that time, and that's hard to deal with. But Lu," she insists, "I wasn't mad at you. I never blamed you for that. You're my favorite big brother, you were then and you still are. Death just... happens, no matter what we do."

It looks like Lucifer struggles to agree with the concept, but after a few seconds, he says, "I suppose you'd know."

He takes out his phone real quick, while Azrael purses her lips trying to think of a response.

"You said you needed my help?" Lucifer says, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"Right," Azrael says. "Long story short, I think my favorite mortal just got cursed, but I don't know by who, or why, or what."

"I'm no expert in curses, unless you're looking for the vulgar kind," Lucifer says.

"No, but you are involved with a lot of powerful people," Azrael says. "In LA, specifically."

"What, your favorite mortal is in the City of Angels too?" Lucifer seems to find that funny.

Azrael takes a deep breath. "Ella Lopez, she works with you." Lucifer does a double take. "Someone messed with her, and I need to find out who."

"Very well," Lucifer says, after a heavy pause. "I don't know how you know Miss Lopez, but I agree, she doesn't deserve to get wrapped up in celestial 'shenanigans', shall we call it...? What's happened?"

With a vague shrug, Azrael says, "That's the problem. I don't know. She got mind-invaded or something, so it has to be celestial... Or maybe it's emotional manipulation? Would that ping as danger? Or maybe..."

"I can see why you need my help," Lucifer says, before chugging the rest of his drink. "Why not ask Miss Lopez?"

"I don't want to freak her out," Azrael says. "I mean, she just thinks I'm a ghost, if I start warning her about mind readers or mind controllers or whatever? She's totally gonna freak out."

"Alright, calm down. Let's do this the proper way, for once," Lucifer grins. "I'm not a police consultant for nothing. Who do we know that had motive and opportunity--when was this, again?"

"Oh, last night," Azrael says.

Almost immediately, Lucifer's face falls. "Oh, bugger."

"What? Did you do something?"

Lucifer grimaces. "I may have told a... 'mutual friend' of ours about the case she was building against him. I didn't mention Miss Lopez by name, but he's a crafty bastard. Is she still unwell?"

"She seems fine, actually," Azrael says reluctantly. "I know something happened, but there's nothing left that tells me what."

"You'd have to ask him yourself," Lucifer says, a lot less focused and more dismissive than he was a minute ago. Azrael hopes that that means that Lucifer doesn't think Ella is in danger. "He's right down the block, I'll write down the address for you."

"Okay," Azrael says, frowning, "but who is it?"

"Gabriel," Lucifer says.

That's absurd. "Gabriel," Azrael repeats doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Quite," Lucifer says. "Let me know if it isn't him, though, and we'll punish the real culprit."

"Since when can Gabriel do mind-wipes?" Azrael is justifiably skeptical. She doesn't know Gabriel extremely well, and she hasn't seen him for longer than she's been avoiding Lucifer, but she thought his power was unlimited hearing.

"Just," Lucifer breathes in, "trust me on this one. I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt Miss Lopez- Well, reasonably sure."

"As reassuring as that sounds-" Azrael starts.

"He saved my life," Lucifer interrupts. "Quite recently, in fact. He's not exactly the douche we both knew him as."

That's a pretty big endorsement by Lucifer's standards.

Fine, Azrael will trust him on this. She owes her big brother that much. "I'll talk to him."

Just as Azrael takes the handwritten address, the elevator dings, and an unfamiliar mortal walks into the penthouse. "What's this urgent-?"

The woman's gaze falls on her, and she stills completely. Alarmed, Azrael checks behind her for what the woman is looking at.

"Ray-Ray, baby," she says, and Azrael startles at a nickname she hasn't heard in a long, long time. One in Enochian.

Her wide eyes turn back to the woman. "... Mom?"

Azrael is still shaken by the time she gets to the address Lucifer had written down for her. She takes a minute to compose herself before she goes inside the- the agency?

What kind of angel of death doesn't even know when her mom escapes hell? This one, apparently.

The sun is setting--it's later than Azrael realized it would be. How long were Mom and her talking? She didn't mean to disappear on Ella completely, not for the rest of the day.

It's for a good cause, Azrael reminds herself. This reunion might be less emotionally charged, but it's more important, if Gabriel is actually the one that mind-invaded Ella.

Azrael is still hesitating by the door when it opens, startling her. The figure on the other side looks right at her, not through her, and says, "Might as well come on in."

"Oh," Azrael says, "yeah, of course, uh..."

She steps inside, glancing at the colorful posters, the shelves full of brochures, the reception desk and the table. It looks like an actual, real travel agency. Lucifer technically runs a real business, but it doesn't look the part like this one does.

Speaking of looking the part... "You know," Azrael says, turning to what has to be Gabriel, "I didn't expect your human form to look like that."

He blinks at her, so Azrael elaborates, "I guess I expected... Actually, I don't know what I expected. Forget I said anything, your human form is great."

He looks like he finds that funny, which makes Azrael pause. Is this not Gabriel? Did she assume wrong? Humans aren't able to see her, though.

"I know," he says. Then, "Have we met?"

"Right!" Azrael facepalms. "Forgot you haven't seen my human form yet either. It's Azrael, well, actually, Ray-Ray now. As in Ray-Ray." She gives him a little wave. "Lucifer pointed me to your place."

"Oh, did he?" Gabriel says, but he relaxes a little with that fact. He smirks, "Why, d'you wanna go on a trip?"

Now, to be fair, Azrael hasn't been in heaven since humanity started expanding, but she remembers Gabriel being a lot less... bearable. It's a change for the better, for sure, it's just weird to see.

"That's not it," Azrael says, and takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to ask you about Ella Lopez."

Gabriel snaps his fingers. "The lab girl."

"Right!" Azrael nods. "So, you know her? Did you meet her? Say, last night, maybe?"

Gabriel narrows his eyes in suspicion, hesitating. "Can I Phone-a-Friend?"

"That's not a trick question," Azrael says. "Okay, maybe it is, a little bit. If you did something to Ella, I'd have to kill you."

Gabriel stares at her, unblinking.

"That was a joke," Azrael clarifies, like that needs to be said. "Because, you know, angel of death?"

"Of course," Gabriel says airily. He starts unwrapping a piece of candy he didn't have a moment ago. "I didn't do much. Messed up one case a bit. It's brand new, so that adjustment shouldn't affect anything else."

"What exactly did you do?" Azrael presses.

"Oh, you know," Gabriel waves a hand. "I made it go away."

Azrael rolls her eyes.

Finally, Gabriel gives in. "I made it hard to think about. It'll feel boring to her, unimportant. It's not a big deal."

"I... guess not," Azrael says, faltering. "Just, why? Ella's in homicide, who'd you kill that you needed to cover up?"

She's sure she hasn't seen Gabriel kill anyone so far. She doesn't always see the killer when she's collecting a soul, but still.

Gabriel heaves a sigh, falling into a chair at the meeting table. "It's not the murder that's the problem."

"So, there is murder?"

Remarkably dismissive, Gabriel says, "Sure. The problem is when people start picking up that it's not a human kind of murder."

Azrael gets an inkling of what this is about. Sure, she handles about four thousand deaths a month in the Los Angeles area alone, but she was Ella's best friend for years, and she's gotten a taste for mystery. The job gets boring after a couple thousand years, so the only deaths that generally linger in the forefront of her mind are the really sad ones, and the mysteries.

"Oh," Azrael says, her eyes glinting. "So, the sudden uptick in bizarre deaths..."

Gabriel puts up his hands. "In my defense, I was contracted. Summoned? Uh, hired? Bribed?" The longer she stares at him, the more uncomfortable he seems.

Giving into morbid curiosity, Azrael sits on the edge of the table. "That guy mauled by a bear in his bedroom, was that you?"

Gabriel's eyes light up, and he grins. "Wasn't that funny, though?"

Azrael is starting to realize she doesn't know Gabriel at all. "Guy with a cross through his throat?"

"Yep," he says.

"Dude who got actually toaster-tubbed?"

Gabriel leans forward. "No, but now I want to know."

Azrael snickers when she thinks back to it. She has the most morose job in the world, she has to take her joys where she can get them.

Three funny death stories later, Azrael remembers to ask, "Who's hiring you to produce weird deaths?"

"I may have been exaggerating," Gabriel says, "a teensy bit. But, turns out, when you've made a name for yourself among humanity, they refuse to let you forget it."

"Give it a couple years," Azrael advises. "Humans don't live long."

With an amused scoff, Gabriel says, "You'd think so, right? I made that mistake too many times before I learned better. They're pretty damn amazing at gossiping, and after thousands of years of rumors, I doubt a couple years are going to make a difference."

Now wait a second. "Are you saying," Azrael starts, "you've been to earth before, but, like, actual millenia ago?"

Gabriel has this sparkle in his eyes, like he's silently laughing at her. "I don't know, am I saying that?"

Peeved, Azrael says, "You know I don't visit the Silver City anymore. Way too busy. I dunno what you're all up to, okay?"

"I didn't know that, actually," Gabriel says. "I've been living it up down here since I skipped Heaven. I don't know what everyone else is up to, and I don't care."

That... actually makes sense. Why Gabriel is more chill than she remembers, how he's blending in with humans so well. "Woah," Azrael realizes, holding a hand to her head, "who else is down here without me knowing about it? I didn't really think about it, since Lu just used his own name and was super obvious about coming to earth--I thought he and I were the only ones."

"Amenadiel's in Los Angeles," Gabriel offers.

"Seriously?" she asks. "Amenadiel is interacting with humans? He used to think they were pets."

"Right?" Gabriel leans in. "It's crazy! But apparently, he's been here a while, and Luci doesn't act like it's anything weird. I thought I was the only one who questioned it."

"No, it's definitely weird," Azrael says. "You know you are, too, right?"

"I've been called it once or twice."

Yeah, Azrael likes Gabriel better than she'd expected to. They never really got along back in Heaven, but now they have something in common, and that's all it took.

"Humanity changes people," Azrael says thoughtfully. "I think that's pretty cool."

For all his change, Lucifer hasn't been living here for very long, and he's still used to the divine. Gabriel, on the other hand, gets it.

When she tells him how she got her human nickname, he says, "You just don't expect it to stick, right?"

"Yeah," Azrael says. "I mean, I like it, but if I knew I was going to keep hanging out with Ella, I would've thought a little harder about the name I gave her."

"Improv fucks you sometimes," Gabriel commiserates. "Some random guy wants your name, and you give it as Haburashi Hamigakiko, and then it's a year later and you're being introduced as Haburashi Hamigakiko and you're like, how did I get here?"

Azrael raises her eyebrows. "Toothbrush Toothpaste?"

"You don't get to judge me, Ray-Ray."

Hiding a laugh, Azrael says, "I think I get to judge you a little."

Gabriel looks positively betrayed, and that's what has Azrael actually burst out laughing.

Point is, Gabriel gets it, and by the time she leaves, she's willing to place him as her third favorite big brother.

This doesn't stop her from stopping at the door and saying, almost casually, "If you ever hurt Ella again, I'll destroy you. You know that, right?"

"Understood," he says.

"Good. Smell ya later, Gabriel."

Content that she's put the fear of the angel of death into her sibling, Azrael flies to Ella's workplace, leaving Gabriel behind.

It's fully dark outside. Just as Azrael had predicted, Ella is still reconstructing some kind of evidence in her lab.

"Good news!" Azrael announces cheerily, and Ella drops the sheet of paper she's studying.

"Ray-Ray!" Ella hisses. "It's not nice to sneak up on people."

It's not the first time she's heard this. Azrael nods along. "I just figured you'd want to hear this as soon as possible. Everything's fine!"

"Everything's fine?" Ella looks confused.

"Everything's fine," Azrael confirms. "So, uh, I'll leave again, if that's what you want."

"Yes," Ella says firmly. Pressing her lips together, Azrael nods. She starts to turn away.

"Wait, Ray-Ray," Ella says. "I just..." She tries again. "Thanks for checking on me." She glances away. "Even if it was a total invasion of privacy. It's a nice thing to do."

"Anytime," Azrael promises.

All things considered, it was nice to meet a sibling whom Gabriel didn't have any baggage with. Azrael is the kind of sibling Gabriel can appreciate, death threats included.

Even so, only an hour after she left, Gabriel tracks Maze down with some urgent questions.

It's a Friday night, so he checked several demon-run bars before giving up and texting Maze. It's still hard to believe she's actually spending the night at home. Gabriel knocks on the apartment door.

"It's for me," he hears Maze say.

The door opens, and Maze steps out, closing the door behind her. She crosses her arms. "What do you want. What's so urgent?"

In any other moment, Gabriel would've joked about Maze hiding something from him. Now is not the time. "Lucifer. Have you noticed anything wrong lately?"

Maze frowns at him. "Like what?"

"Like," Gabriel says, "him slowly bleeding out."

"He's what?" Maze takes out a knife. "Who do I need to kill?"

"I was hoping you'd know that," Gabriel admits. "He's been bleeding Grace everywhere since before I even got here, and I didn't realize because I had nothing to compare it to. I mean, Amenadiel? Total wreck."

Disappointed, Maze lowers her knife. "So... There's no one to kill?"

"There probably is," Gabriel reassures. "You sure you didn't notice anything before I came to Los Angeles?"

"Alright." Maze holds up a finger. "I can tell if there's an angel nearby and how dangerous they are to me specifically. I'm not exactly practiced at watching them for health changes. I mean..." She trails off.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows.

"I guess Lucifer hasn't been as 'intimidating' lately," Maze muses. "I thought it was just that stupid human obsession of his making him weak."

"Nothing specific," Gabriel concludes with a sigh.

He should've noticed a long time ago, but Lucifer's Grace felt just foreign enough that Gabriel chalked all the alarm bells in his head up to trauma. Azrael, though, Azrael is healthy and whole, and the difference slapped him in the face when he bothered to pay attention.

"Hey." Maze punches him in the arm. "Don't freak out about it. If he's been bleeding for months, it can't be that bad, right?"

"Maybe not for him," is the retort. Gabriel's head is spinning with possibilities.

Maze's eyes narrow harshly. "What does that mean?"

Lucifer has essentially been leaking divinity everywhere he goes, icy and pressing and wildly uncomfortable to get close to. It may have been confusing humans in the vicinity, the Grace seeping into the air, causing them to catch glimpses of impossible things.

Maybe that doesn't fully justify the dread he feels, either. Humans encounter the Divine all the time, it happens. That's not the point. The point is, Lucifer is getting weaker, however slowly, suffering under a wound he doesn't even know is there, and Gabriel might be the only one who can stop it.

That's so fucking unfair. Letting Lucifer lend him mojo is one thing, actively patching him up is something entirely different.

Heaving a sigh at his brooding silence, Maze takes out her phone. "I'm texting you Linda's number."

"Why?"

"She's a therapist, so make an appointment," Maze tells him, matter-of-fact. "She's the only human who can handle Lucifer in the first place, so I'm sure she can solve whatever this is." She proceeds to gesture to all of him.

"Great, thanks," Gabriel says dryly.

"Also, this isn't that urgent, and you're interrupting my game night," Maze adds, halfway speaking over him.

"You're going hunting tonight?" It's just like Maze to call humans 'game'.

"Yeah. Sure."

Gabriel does end up taking Maze's advice. He doesn't know Linda very well, but they did kill Lucifer together once. And bring him back, that too.

The very next day, he's sprawled over half of Linda's couch, pretending to study the office.

When he fails to come up with a way to phrase his question for a good two minutes, Linda takes the initiative.

"So, Gabriel," she says somewhat awkwardly, "what brings you here today?"

"Lucifer," Gabriel says, "but I bet you hear that from most of your patients."

It's said with humor, but Linda takes it completely seriously. "Actually, I don't. You might be surprised at how little," she hesitates, "therapy-inducing trouble Lucifer makes."

Gabriel considers this. "I might be. This isn't really about therapy either," he admits. "Lucifer's bleeding out."

Linda sits up straight. "Right now?"

Putting up a hand to halt her, Gabriel clarifies, "He's been bleeding out for at least a month and a half."

"Oh." Linda exhales, forcing herself to settle. She jokes, "Of course, I should've guessed."

"I'll forgive you," Gabriel says with a playful wink. She's easy to talk to. "It's not that he's keeping it a secret or anything. He doesn't know."

Linda takes a deep breath. "As many questions as that raises... This isn't really about Lucifer, is it."

Gabriel lets his head fall back, staring at the ceiling.

Even with everything Lucifer has done to prove his intentions, Gabriel can't bring himself to actually, willingly, get close. He can't heal Lucifer's Grace without making contact.

"It's a divine injury," he says, attempting to cancel out the heavy dread that's trying to work its way into his voice with something lighthearted. "We're all injured--us three stooges, I mean--but his injury is still open and bleeding Grace. The only one who can close it is another angel." Gabriel makes a general gesture at himself.

Careful, Linda asks, "Who healed you and Amenadiel?"

Gabriel tries for a shrug. "God, probably? I don't know about Amenadiel, but I definitely shouldn't have survived what I did, so I've been chalking that one up to daddy dearest."

"And you don't think He'll heal Lucifer," Linda concludes, after a moment of silence.

For the first time in a good minute, Gabriel meets her eyes again. "After a month and a half? Fat chance."

Linda concedes the point.

"So," she asks, "what's stopping you?"

"Oh, you know," Gabriel says. "Last time I tried to fight Lucifer, I almost died."

He throws it out casually, expecting it to catch her off guard, to make her question what she thinks she knows.

Linda is very, very careful in asking, "Is healing him a fight?"

Instead of distracting her, Gabriel is caught wrong-footed himself, and he's not sure he likes it.

He hadn't realized that yes, he was thinking of it as another fight. It's another confrontation, isn't it? It's not exactly the same Lucifer, but it's exactly the same Grace.

"Sometimes," Linda says slowly, "past events can skew our perception of future events."

Gabriel doesn't blink. He hasn't blinked in several minutes. Linda looks increasingly uncomfortable with it, but she presses on.

"If the future event is in any way similar, our brain convinces us it's the same thing, and that it'll go the same way it did in the past. It's important to remember that-" She takes a breath, releases it. "-that the world moves forward, even when our brains don't want to. Nothing will happen the exact same way."

"I'm not bound by a human brain," Gabriel points out, the only thing that he can actually protest.

Squinting at him, Linda says, "What is it with celestials and thinking they're above human behavior?"

Sheepish, Gabriel shrugs. It's supposed to be true.

"You don't have to push yourself to do it right away," Linda says. Then, slightly worried, "Right? How much time does he have until it actually becomes, you know, dangerous?"

"No clue," Gabriel says lightly. "I'll keep an eye out, though. At the very least, another month."

Linda nods to herself. "Are you going to talk to him about it before then? You know, tell him he's, uh, dying?"

Fuck, he probably should, shouldn't he? He doesn't want to.

"Maybe," he says. By which he means no.

"I think you should," Linda advises. "And I'm not just saying that as Lucifer's friend, but as your therapist, too. It can help to cut the task you're dreading into parts, instead of trying to do it all at once."

Ugh, an unfortunately solid point.

"I'll consider it," Gabriel says, and this time he means it. It's like Linda can tell, because this time she lets it go.

Maybe it'll be good to get that talk over with. If he procrastinates, he may or may not be tempted to let Lucifer die, out of sight and out of mind. That would be a pretty sucky thing to do.

Chapter Text

It's amazing how quickly Gabriel regrets his decision to talk to Lucifer.

He doesn't have to say a damn word--Lux's staff elevator doors open, and bam, instant regret.

"Gabriel!" Mama Goddess says, pleasantly surprised.

Unfreezing, Gabriel retracts the single step he'd taken out of the elevator and presses the down button.

"Wait," Mama says, hurrying over to stop the door from closing. "You're welcome to stay. We were actually hoping you'd show up soon--neither of the boys knew how to contact you." She briefly glares at the two figures behind her.

There's Amenadiel, which is fine, and there's Lucifer, holding an angel blade, which is not fine. Gabriel has had more than enough of this specific sight when the angel blade wasn't real, only a figment of hell.

When Mama doesn't budge her expectant look, still holding the door, Gabriel takes a single extremely reluctant step out of the elevator.

Actually, now that he's not entirely focused on trying to escape... That's not a real angel blade, is it? It looks exactly like one, but it's not made of Grace. There's nothing 'angel' about it.

"Whatcha got there?" Gabriel asks, somewhat wary--Mama is at his back.

"Oh," Lucifer says, holding it up, "Azrael's Blade."

That's bullshit. "No it's not."

"Well, if you'd let me finish," Lucifer starts, annoyed, before pausing. "Hold on. How do you know that?"

Gabriel frowns. "Uh, same way you do?"

"What, Mum told you too?" As Lucifer laughs in disbelief, Gabriel makes a heel turn to stare at Mama.

She stares right back. Some kind of understanding passes between them.

"What's, uh, what's going on?" Amenadiel looks between the two of them. "Am I missing something?"

Lucifer says, "If you are, I'm equally excluded from the joke, brother."

She's not oblivious like the angels here are.

Mama smiles slowly. Gabriel doesn't trust it, especially not when she says, "My smart boy, of course you'd notice."

If she can sense Grace, she should've been able to tell that Amenadiel hadn't fallen, should've known that Lucifer has been bleeding out. She's Lucifer's mother, she has no excuse of unfamiliarity like Gabriel does.

No, Gabriel doesn't trust it at all.

"That," Mama says, passing right over his discomfort, "is actually the Flaming Sword, disguised as a simple blade. It was hidden in plain sight all along."

Is now a good time to mention that Gabriel has no idea what the Flaming Sword is? Probably not. It's a sword; he can infer.

"Right," Gabriel says. "Why do we have it?"

"Ah," Lucifer says, holding it up in a mocking sort of way. "Apparently we are going to use it to storm heaven."

"Cool," Gabriel says, "Good luck with that."

He heads for the elevator again.

"Hold up!" Mama grabs his wrist to halt him. "We want you to come with us, of course."

Gabriel's skin is crawling. He doesn't like conflict, and he especially doesn't like conflict with his family. Which is, of course, not what this is, but it's close enough to make him feel it.

He turns back to them, slowly, and Mama lets go of his wrist.

"It's a moot point," Lucifer says, irritated. "It's not working. How'd you expect me to ignite it, dip it in whiskey and light a match?"

Mama takes several steps towards him, giving Gabriel some much needed space. "Last time it ignited you were angry. So," she suggests, "think about your father."

While Lucifer looks to be making a genuine attempt, Gabriel tentatively tastes-feels-hears his Grace. Bleeding. So, so obviously bleeding, seeping into the environment-

That's not right. It's not dissipating, it's being consumed. What the fuck. What the fuck?

Gabriel watches in horror as seemingly nothing happens, while Lucifer's restless, bleeding Grace is eaten by the sword he's holding.

"You're not angry enough," Mama snaps, starting to pace. "Last time, you were furious."

"What, so the Blade can sense my emotional state?" Lucifer huffs.

Maybe not, but it can taste his Grace. Even when it's completely under the angel's control, like with Gabriel and his actual siblings, their Grace reflects their true colors--it's their entire identity. With Lucifer's barely-tamed bonfire Grace, of course high emotion makes it volatile and more likely to lash out, feeding the blade.

One part of Gabriel's brain makes a note to be nowhere in Lucifer's vicinity if he ever gets genuinely angry, while another part is thinking about just how ridiculous this entire charade is.

The Goddess obviously knows what's happening with the Blade. She must also know that the only reason it's working is that Lucifer is still bleeding, and has been bleeding for weeks. She's purposefully kept that from him in order to use him.

Amenadiel punches Lucifer, and Lucifer looks downright offended. He's not genuinely upset, though. The wound keeps bleeding sluggishly.

Looking satisfied, Amenadiel shrugs. "Worth a try."

"Boys, boys!" Mama steps in before Lucifer can start an actual brawl in turn. "We'll figure this out. This is our way home."

She includes Gabriel in that 'us', looking at him imploringly.

"I don't know about that, Mom," Amenadiel says. "Our 'way home' hinges on Luci being able to control his emotions."

The tone he says it in has Lucifer bristling.

Gabriel rests his face in his hand to block out the ensuing 'can too' - 'can not' argument. At least it's not reminding him of his actual siblings anymore. None of their fights were this benign.

Not that he's jealous or anything. Not even a little bit.

"That's enough!" Mama snaps. When the argument dies, she says, "We're getting nowhere. We'll have to let Lucifer try it until we come up with a better idea."

The meeting lasted for barely ten minutes after Gabriel joined, but it feels like it's been actual years. He's just not built for this kind of stress.

Mama and Amenadiel take their leave together, but Gabriel doesn't follow them out. Mama only gets to throw Gabriel one confused look before the elevator doors close.

"Don't tell me you're going to punch me, too," Lucifer mutters.

"I've literally never wanted to punch you less," Gabriel tells him. "If Mama tries to drag me up with her, I will change my identity and move to Poland."

Lucifer raises his eyebrows, faintly amused. "Actually?"

"No," Gabriel says. "I'm not going to move anywhere that I'd tell you about beforehand. Or will I?" He winks, like he's not being completely serious. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

With a smirk, Lucifer asks, "What're you still here for, then?"

Gabriel's hand has been forced. Even if Lucifer doesn't learn to somehow channel strong emotions, eventually he's going to realize that it's a Grace-related issue, and it's going to be the easiest thing in the world to ignite the sword. Damn it, Gabriel knew he was going to regret teaching Lucifer control.

Mama's efforts will at the very least be hindered if Lucifer stops bleeding.

"The sword's eating you," Gabriel tells him.

"I'm quite certain about my eventual victory, actually."

"No," Gabriel says, "the sword is actively eating you. I'd probably put it down if I were you."

Looking disturbed, Lucifer quickly places it on the piano wing.

"Oh." Gabriel purses his lips. "That doesn't help. The fuck did you do with this sword, to have it this locked on to you?"

"First of all, there was no fuck," Lucifer corrects. "I'd have appreciated a little fun tracking this thing down--but it may have actually been the worst period of my life." He purses his lips. "This... is the blade that killed Uriel."

Now, Gabriel knows exactly how affected Lucifer was by Uriel's death, but... "So, what's your point? Is that a big deal?" he asks. "Has no one else been murdered with it?"

"It's a 'big deal' to me," Lucifer snaps. "But no, actually, this may be the most deadly weapon in existence, considering just how many it's killed."

"Makes no sense why it latched onto you specifically, then. Just because you're leaking Grace?" Gabriel is stalling.

"Ah," Lucifer says, remembering. "I did get stabbed with it once."

Right. Yeah, that would do it. Gabriel gives him a long look.

"Lightly," Lucifer stresses, vaguely indignant. "Is that why it's eating me?"

"Ugh, vampire swords," Gabriel mutters. "At least that means that if I heal you, it should stop eating you."

Startled, Lucifer asks, "You can do that?"

"I'll have to," Gabriel says, and the words weigh heavy.

"Or what, I die?" Morbid curiosity.

"No, worse," Gabriel says. "You can only activate it right now because it's eating you. I'm not risking heaven, bucko."

"Hang on." Lucifer backs off physically, like the distance means anything when it comes to Grace. "I do need to get it to work."

"You're kidding me, right? It's also slowly killing you."

"You could just heal me later," Lucifer says. "After I ignite it, cut through the gates of heaven, etcetera."

Gabriel snorts. "Yeah? I'll heal you from all the way in Poland?"

Lucifer gives him a beseeching look, but Gabriel only stares back, unblinking. He'd love nothing more than to back down and leave the country, but he doubts it'd matter where he is, if they manage to light the sword that's apparently powerful enough to defeat the entirety of the Host. If Mama wants him with them, he's going to be with them, one way or another.

Another potential solution is to make Mama hate him enough to leave him be, but that'll be a last resort. High chance of being incinerated during that attempt, and healing someone has got to be less dangerous in comparison.

Lucifer breaks first, turning away with a scoff. "I suppose," he allows, "that if we can't find any other way after I'm healed, I could always stab myself again."

Fuck, that might actually work.

"Why are you so intent on this garbage plan?" Gabriel throws up his hands. "It's garbage!"

"Where else are we gonna put Mum?" Lucifer argues. "She'll keep trying to reach Heaven, so why not give it to her wrapped in a little bow? We kick her through and slam the gates shut behind her."

Well, when he puts it like that.

"Mum and Dad can fight it out, distract each other, and neither will have enough time to manipulate me anymore. It's the perfect solution."

Slowly, Gabriel says, "That's... actually not a bad plan. So, does that mean I don't have to heal you?"

It's maybe slightly hopeful. That's Gabriel's mistake, because predictably, Lucifer shoots it down. "Preferably, I'm not actively dying while I'm learning to control my emotions. I mean, now that I know I can just stab myself... Hey, would that work with any divine essence- Grace, you called it?"

"Theoretically," Gabriel says.

"So, if I stab Mum, she-"

"You have my blessing."

"Wonderful," Lucifer says. "So, could you actually 'heal' me, or were you just saying that?"

Gabriel looks at Lucifer, and realizes that throughout this whole confrontation, he never once compared this Lucifer to his own brother. He's been tasting-touching-hearing Lucifer's Grace practically since he walked in, and the more he does, the more he notices that it... doesn't actually behave very similarly to the Lucifer he knew.

Grace makes the angel, but the angel makes the Grace as well. Emotion and mindset and experience make up most of an angel's Grace, and if Gabriel really, really looks, without bringing along his baggage, Luci's Grace is almost unrecognizable.

"Yeah, alright," he says, resigned.

It's still a monumental effort, which is to say, Gabriel hesitates so long Lucifer actually wanders away to get a drink. When Gabriel does gather up the courage to reach out, it's shockingly easy.

It shouldn't be shocking. Grace healing Grace is the natural state of things--it's just been so long that Gabriel forgot exactly how easy it was.

"I noticed that," Lucifer says with wonder in his tone. "How... exactly did I notice that?"

"Perks of the most basic awareness of your own Grace," Gabriel says with humor.

It wasn't that bad. Linda was right--it wasn't a fight, after all. The closest Gabriel came to conflict today was watching Mama and her sons duke it out, and Lucifer himself was perfectly pleasant about accepting help.

Lucifer isn't walking around with an open wound anymore, and they have a plan for the future, and Gabriel didn't have to sacrifice anything of himself for it.

Gabriel is so satisfied with himself that he lets his guard down.

It's barely a week later that he gets a call from Lucifer. Actually, it happens more like this:

He's in his currently empty agency, in the middle of a call with a French hotel, arranging the absolute worst trip of some entitled dickhead's life, when he catches his name through the Host.

Gabriel, answer your bloody phone, Lucifer says. Instantly, a significant part of the Host starts asking questions and expressing confusion.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, and tells the hotel manager something came up. "Désolé, j'ai quelque chose à faire, à bientôt!"

He doesn't wait for an answer. The second he hangs up, a second caller ID shows up on the screen.

"Yello," Gabriel answers it. He starts another spin of his chair.

"Finally," Lucifer mutters. "How are you this hard to reach?"

"What can I say? Everyone wants a piece of this."

"Listen, brother, we found a way to get the Flaming Sword... Well, flaming."

Gabriel stops spinning. "You what?"

"Turns out it was split into pieces--well, it doesn't really matter," Lucifer says. "It's been a long week. Suffice to say, Amenadiel has the final piece... wherever he is. Whenever he's done 'processing' or such, we'll tell Mum and carry out the plan."

"Right," Gabriel says, grim. "You're telling me so I can disappear before she finds me?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Lucifer scoffs. "She won't leave earth without all her children."

"So tell her I'm not her child, then," Gabriel says. "Easy."

"If she believes me, which I'm not sure she would... I don't think it would matter." Lucifer sounds like this comes as a surprise to him too, this realization. "She might simply accept we have two Gabriels now."

Gabriel groans, letting his head hit the backrest of his chair. "You're kidding me."

"Mum can be somewhat possessive," Lucifer says. "It's not a big deal. We'll simply go along with it until the Gates open, and then we'll be home free."

Gabriel gets the impression that Lucifer doesn't understand the lengths Gabriel is willing to go to to avoid heaven.

"What about Ray-Ray?" Gabriel asks. "Mama knows she's on earth, right?"

"Yes," Lucifer says. "Apparently, Mum's decided Azrael will follow her into the Silver City on her own feathery wings. I suppose she doesn't trust any of us to fly up there, which, well, considering me and Amenadiel don't have wings, and you..."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," says Gabriel, annoyed. He's demonstrated for the whole celestial team just how bad he currently is at flying, Lucifer doesn't have to rub it in.

"Anyway, nothing to worry about," Lucifer says. "I trust you haven't chickened out."

"Sure," he says, already plotting various escape routes. "Yeah, see you then."

Gabriel abruptly hangs up on Lucifer. He spins the phone through his fingers, resisting the urge to crush it into non-existence.

For now, he can play along. If he flies off the instant the Sword cuts through dimensions or whatever it's going to do, he won't even have to catch a glimpse of heaven, and heaven won't catch a glimpse of him either. It'll be painful, but it's a very viable option.

Maybe, just maybe, this plan will go off without a hitch.

The situation may be fucked up beyond all repair.

Lucifer is genuinely doing his best to hold everything together. Mum is in Lux's cellar for later processing, Maze is hunting down Amenadiel, and Lucifer himself only has to obstruct the case against his mum for a little while longer while Maze hunts.

At worst, it'll take a day or two. Lucifer just hopes the Detective's trust in him survives that long. He hates to keep this from her, but the Goddess of All Creation bleeding divine light is not an appropriate case for the LAPD to handle--it's more of an apocalypse-level issue.

Keeping the truth from the Detective is tough enough that Lucifer is relieved for an excuse to step away when he gets a call.

"Maze," he says, as soon as he answers. "I need good news."

"Got him," Maze says simply. "I'm taking him to Lux. Be there." The call ends.

"Lucifer?" The Detective approaches him, frowning. "Is there something going on?"

"Nothing for you to worry about," Lucifer says. "There's something I have to attend to at Lux."

"If this has anything to do with the case-"

"Gotta run!" Lucifer calls, already speed-walking away from the crime scene.

He'll handle this quickly, and the Detective will never have to know just how close her planet came to destruction.

Instead of going straight to Lux, he stops down the street. He doesn't bother finding a parking spot. This will only take a minute.

He's barely entered Poimandres when a woman steps past him out of the door, hesitant throwing confused glances over her shoulder. Lucifer follows her gaze to Gabriel, who's already standing, looking resigned.

"When you called yesterday, it sounded like it would take-" a vague wave of his hand- "a while."

Lucifer still has no clue how Gabriel always knows to expect him, but now is not the time to ask.

"Extenuating circumstances," Lucifer says. "Coming?"

"Let's get this over with," Gabriel says.

Lucifer doesn't waste time explaining what he'll have to repeat to Amenadiel anyway, and Gabriel doesn't ask until the penthouse elevator opens and Maze drags an unconscious Amenadiel in by his ankles.

Raising his eyebrows, Gabriel asks Lucifer, "Is this because he punched you that one time?"

"I'm not that petty," Lucifer says, offended. He adds, "Thank you, Maze."

"Yeah, whatever," Maze says. "Where's Her Majesty?"

"The cellar," Lucifer says. "Wrecking my most valuable wine collection, no doubt. Or drinking it." His eyes catch on a bigger issue. "The Key," he says. "Where is it?"

Amenadiel isn't wearing it.

"He doesn't have it," Maze says. "Relax. If he refuses to give it up, we'll just torture it out of him."

She sounds far too eager for that outcome. "As much as I like to support your hobbies, Mazikeen, I'm afraid we don't have the time for that."

"Yeah, you never do," Maze mutters.

Before Lucifer can respond to that, Amenadiel stirs. Three pairs of eyes immediately turn on him.

"Hello, brother," Lucifer says, almost pleasantly. "Where'd your pretty necklace go?"

"Oh," Amenadiel purses his lips, "somewhere safe."

As he sits up, Lucifer can see him looking around, taking in the room full of celestials. "Is this an ambush you planned?"

"Oh, for-" Lucifer rolls his eyes. "Look, we're not gathered here to intimidate you. Unless it's working, in which case, we are. We need the final piece."

"Yes, yes, you want to overthrow Dad, I get it," Amenadiel says impatiently. "Luci, look, I've been thinking..."

Lucifer scoffs. "Don't hurt yourself. Maze, would you be a dear and fetch Mum from the basement? She'll want to hear this."

Amenadiel doesn't wait for Mum. He doesn't even wait until Maze is in the elevator before he keeps going, defiant. "I've had time to consider it. I don't think we should go through with what Mom wants."

"Great," Gabriel jumps in. "We're on the same page, then."

"We are?"

Preferably, Lucifer would've felt Amenadiel out more before deciding he wasn't going to go tattling to Mum, but he supposes it can't be helped now. "Yes," he says, "Using Gabriel's words, it's a garbage plan."

Amenadiel looks genuinely shocked.

"Which is why I have my own, far better plan," Lucifer explains. "We go along with her until the gates are open, then we kick her through and shut the gates behind her, ta-dah, problem solved. Mum and Dad get to torture each other for all eternity."

"Or, at least until he locks her up again," Gabriel adds.

That's not something Lucifer had... seriously considered. Dad must've learned when it failed the first time, and Mum must've learned not to attack his doll house, right? She even apologized, when they all thought Mr Johnson was the almighty.

"What- No!" Amenadiel looks vaguely horrified, raising his voice. It fills the penthouse. "How is that any better?"

Lucifer scoffs. "We get free will, brother, what else could you want?"

"No, Luci, that's what you want!" Amenadiel shouts, standing up to pace. "Whether you two are on her side or not, I'm not letting her loose on Dad. That piece was a gift, and seeing that has let me see clearly what must be done."

"Really, now?" Lucifer fires back with contempt. "What's that?"

"I must guard the piece from you and Mom," Amenadiel says with increasing volume, "and go back to being the loyal soldier our Father entrusted me to be."

Amenadiel doesn't understand at all, but as Lucifer opens his mouth to tell him that, there's some kind of change in the air that stops him short. As if a weight was lifted before he even noticed it was there.

On instinct alone, Lucifer throws a glance behind him. The room is empty except for him and Amenadiel.

Lucifer returns his gaze to Amenadiel, who looks equally confused. "Not to let you have the last word here," Lucifer says as the elevator dings open, "but do you have any idea where Gabriel went?"

"He's not the only one," Maze says, sounding pissed. When Lucifer turns around, she's standing next to the elevator by her lonesome. "Your mother is gone."

At least Gabriel is easy to find.

Maze shows them the mercifully intact wine cellar, only a couple bottles smashed in apparent anger, to prove she didn't simply kidnap the Goddess out of spite. When they emerge into Lux's currently unused main club area afterwards, Gabriel is sitting at the bar, dipping candy bars into Lux's strongest vodka. Lucifer is mildly concerned.

Unfortunately, Mum isn't with him. There's no trace of her.

"This is just depressing," Maze says, walking up to Gabriel and stealing a candy bar. "At least get yourself boozy candies."

"They don't drug those," Gabriel says.

Maze hums like Gabriel is making an upsettingly valid point, while Lucifer does a double take.

Amenadiel squints. "What-"

Clearing his throat, Lucifer says, "As much as I'd love to try the pot candy-"

"Gib candy," Maze corrects.

Lucifer's eyes light up with interest, and a grin forms on his lips. "Really, liquid ecstasy?"

"Okay, not the point," Amenadiel interrupts, stepping forward to close the distance. "Mom is gone."

"Right, yes," Lucifer says, refocusing. "You didn't happen to run into her, Gabriel?"

"Nope." Gabriel hasn't looked up from his vodka.

Turning to Maze, Lucifer says, "Think you can find her before she fries any more humans, Mazikeen?"

Maze scoffs at him, pointedly spinning a knife around her thumb. Without a word, she starts climbing the stairs to exit Lux.

"Hang on," Amenadiel says, his tone dark. "What do you mean, frying humans?"

"I was getting to that." Maybe Lucifer is a little pissed that Amenadiel got the last word in their argument, after all. "Mum's falling apart. Her powers are returning and it won't be long before Charlotte Richards' body can't contain them, which is why we can't afford to have her wandering around earth. She's already killed one person."

Amenadiel can't argue that, surely.

"Let me get this straight," Gabriel says sharply, and Lucifer recalls that this is news to him, too. "Even though angels here have an innate human form, your mom is possessing someone? Someone unfit to be a vessel?"

"Essentially, yes," Lucifer says slowly, frowning. That's an odd way to phrase it. To use the term 'vessel'... It sounds like he's familiar.

Silently, Gabriel downs the rest of his vodka. He looks done with this universe.

"So, how do we find her?" Amenadiel asks, impatient.

"Maze is on it," Lucifer reminds him. "It's not like we're going to find Mum before she does."

"Hello, boys."

Lucifer and Amenadiel both turn and stare as the Goddess strolls into the room, like she's simply been waiting for her cue to prove Lucifer wrong.

"Mum?" Lucifer says, checking her over. No beacons of deadly light, but there are too many bandaids across her skin for comfort. "Where on earth have you been?"

"Here and there," she says, walking to the bar. It's only when Lucifer's gaze follows her there that he realizes Gabriel is no longer sitting at the bar, but standing practically across the room from it, bristling.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," she says to all three of them, pouring herself a glass from the bottle Gabriel left on the counter. "I needed... some air. It was getting a little claustrophobic down there. Don't you just hate being left in the dark?"

She smiles a gentle smile, and Lucifer wants to believe it, believe her. He does.

"That doesn't matter," she continues, when no one else speaks. "You found Amenadiel! We have the final piece, we can go home."

Lucifer clicks his tongue. "Yes, about that... Brother, why don't you tell her?"

"No, no, that's okay," Amenadiel says. "You can do it."

Right. Lucifer makes an impulse decision, as he tends to do.

"We were thinking," Lucifer says, making sure to include Gabriel in his gesture despite how far away he's standing, "this plan, with the whole Flaming Sword and the gates... It's trash."

"Yes, trash," Amenadiel agrees.

Nodding, Lucifer says, a little awkwardly, "Have you ever considered finding a place of your own, perhaps?"

"Somewhere away from Dad," Amenadiel offers.

"Somewhere familiar, warmer?" Lucifer adds.

"There's some great real estate up for grabs, nowadays," Amenadiel says.

When Lucifer stops nodding along for long enough to actually look, Mum has tears welling in her eyes. A cold stone sinks into his stomach.

"It's true," she whispers. Her voice regains some strength. "You want me back in hell. You never planned on going with me to heaven, did you? Not for a moment."

She's fully focused on Lucifer, with a gaze that has an excuse on his lips before he even realizes what she's actually said. "Wait, Mum. How do you know that?"

She swallows, tries for a gentle smile despite the tears. "I... persuaded your little doctor. I'm sorry, son, I had to know." Her tone hardens. "I deserved to know."

Lucifer is caught in a moment of disbelief. "What did you do?"

He only takes a single step towards Lux's door before Mum grabs his collar to turn him back towards her, lifting him from the ground. Lucifer makes a small, choked sound of surprise.

"Mom," Amenadiel says, alarmed.

Mum ignores him entirely to look towards Gabriel instead. "Were you a part of this plan, Gabriel? Were you working against me too?"

The air feels heavier.

"I understand you're mad," Amenadiel attempts. "But Mom-"

"Oh, I'm not mad," Mum says. "I'm just disappointed."

With a snarl on her face, she throws Lucifer head-first into Amenadiel, with enough power in it for them both to be bowled over in a spectacle of shattering glass and liquor.

Lucifer smarts at the impact, rolling off of Amenadiel with a groan. He scrambles to stand up, expecting to see Mum coming towards them for a round two.

What he sees instead is her halfway across the room, clearly having moved towards Gabriel, but frozen in place. She holds up a hand, in a calming gesture, because Gabriel is pointing a sword at her.

The divine blade is covered in blood, and Lucifer takes some panicked steps towards them before he realizes Mum doesn't look hurt. It's shining, clearly fresh, but Mum is standing and speaking, more composed than she was several seconds ago. Neither of them are hurt.

"You wouldn't actually use that thing, would you?" Mum is saying. She pulls authority. "I'm your mother. Put that away before it hurts somebody."

Predictably, that doesn't work on Gabriel. He moves slowly, circles her like he's cornered prey, looking for an escape. His blade holds steady, aimed at Mum with a one-minded focus, but the air is heavy with panic that Lucifer knows he wouldn't have been able to sense from any mortal.

It must be his divine blade, but whose blood is it that's dripping onto the floor?

"Luci," Amenadiel says urgently beside him. "Do something."

Gabriel isn't listening, and he might actually stab Mum if she tries anything more than talking. That's a problem, and not just because Lucifer, even now, doesn't particularly like seeing his Mum hurt.

Lucifer walks forward carefully, slowing as he approaches. Half-consciously, he mimics Mum's calming gesture. "Gabriel," he says. "The more wounded Mum gets, the more dangerous she is to humans."

He pauses for a moment, trying to determine if Gabriel is listening. He knows, from events they'd both rather forget, that Gabriel has killed family members before. He may not have the instinct that Mum seems to think he has, the one that should make him hesitate here--and even if he does, Mum isn't family to him.

Lucifer takes a step that puts him halfway in front of Mum. Gabriel's eyes flick from Lucifer to her and back to Lucifer. Even Mum is silent behind him, letting him lead.

"She won't die," Lucifer says, "but many other people could."

Gabriel is listening now, he can see. His gaze passes over Lucifer, and Mum, and Amenadiel, and his blade lowers slightly. Lucifer allows himself to feel somewhat victorious.

The next moment, Gabriel is gone, only a disturbance of air left where he was standing.

Mum lets out a shaky breath. "What was that? What did I do to him, that he's afraid of me?"

"You didn't do anything, Mom," Amenadiel says sadly.

"Actually," Lucifer corrects, "you killed someone yesterday."

Mum turns to him, taking his face into her hands. She looks between him and Amenadiel. "This is all for a happy ending. Don't you see? Nothing is right anymore, but it'll work itself out if we stick together."

Lucifer takes a step back, out of her reach, and watches her wavering smile break.

"Amenadiel," she implores, "give me the piece. Let me fix this."

"No, Mom," Amenadiel says. "You'll have to kill me first."

She won't. They all know she won't. Did Gabriel?

Mum draws herself up and swallows back fresh tears. She does her best to harden her voice. "Guess I'll have to find another way, won't I?"

Pain radiates from both his shoulder blades into his back and chest, but Gabriel barely takes note.

At least it's predictable. His Grace is stretched too thin, and flying is the worst idea, and he was fully aware of that both times he fled his family members today. If it's a choice between hurting himself by staying and hurting himself by fleeing, Gabriel's instinct will always be to run away.

Or, not always. As proven just then, sometimes Gabriel will choose to stay for no reason at all.

It's not his responsibility. It's not like it's his mom that's going around killing humans. They're not his siblings, this is not his fight, it's not the Elysian. He needs to keep reminding himself of that.

All this time, he thought Lucifer would be the one to bring those memories back up. He was prepared for that. He wasn't prepared for Mama, in a vessel that's falling apart, confronting them all like she was looking for a fight. What kind of cruel twist of fate is that? Thanks a bunch, Dad.

That's something else Gabriel hadn't been expecting; vessels. It's been confirmed for him over and over again that demons nor angels use vessels, and he'd wondered about that--if his vessel was taken out, would he be fucked, left to wander the universe as a wavelength of celestial intent forever? That would suck. He likes earth.

Not that he'd ever let his vessel be destroyed. It's been fine for three thousand years now, he's kept it in great condition except for that one time he died. Anyway, apparently he'd be fine after all, because vessels do exist.

Gabriel perches on a low branch in a tree in some random cemetery on the outskirts of LA, thinking about vessels and anything else that keeps his mind off the family conflict across the city.

It works--for a given definition of the word--for almost an hour. At that point, the leaves he's been watching idly flutter by freeze in place.

No, they don't freeze, exactly. The entire world around him has slowed to a crawl. Gabriel watches open-mouthed as Michael's Grace tangles with time itself all around him.

He didn't think Amenadiel could do anything like this in his perpetually injured state. He didn't know Amenadiel could do this, period.

Alarmed, Gabriel seeks out his brothers' Grace. Lucifer burns brightly, as he always has, and he's easy to find. Something else burns with Lucifer's Grace, too. It takes slightly longer to trace Amenadiel's time manipulation back to its source--barely alive at all, Grace trembling and flickering and suffering.

He can't fly to both of them in turn, with the state his wings are in. He has to choose.

It's not a hard choice. Lucifer was recently healed, and Gabriel trusts him to handle himself more than he trusts whatever Amenadiel is trying to do.

Gabriel stumbles upon landing, unbalanced by the shock of pain that reverberates through him, but he manages to stay on his feet to take in the situation he's landed in.

He's in Linda's office, and it's wrecked. What isn't covered in blood is charred black, and the air tastes like death. Amenadiel hasn't even noticed Gabriel's blatantly obvious entrance, fighting to slow time itself with the little Grace he has left, his face a grayish tint that makes him look like he's dying--that'll be because he is.

Gabriel doesn't know what exactly Amenadiel is doing this for, but he doesn't hesitate for longer than that split second he needs to take everything in. He reaches out to Michael's Grace and lends his power, what little he has left. He was never close with Michael, but at least he doesn't flinch away on instinct. It's easy, easier than a lot of things have been lately, to help Amenadiel slow time.

When Amenadiel's eyes shoot open, baffled at the assistance, they meet Gabriel's.

"Hey, bro," Gabriel says.

Gabriel offers all of himself, and consciously or not, Amenadiel echoes it back, mixing their efforts. Time continues to stretch, but the desperation has vanished from the act, and the connection holds.

"What are you doing here?" Amenadiel questions, lost, when he realizes he can speak without losing his grip on time.

Truthfully, Gabriel isn't entirely sure what he's doing, why he sensed Grace flickering out and his first instinct was to help. It's an instinct he thought he'd lost a long, long time ago. Maybe it never went away--maybe he just ran far enough that it never applied anymore.

He shrugs, and it's with that movement that he notices how easy it is to breathe, how little his vessel hurts. He's been uncharitably rough with his Grace today, it shouldn't feel like...

Of course. Amenadiel's Grace still feels exhausted and worn, but it's not waning out of existence anymore, and in turn, Gabriel feels better than he has since he was stabbed to death. After such a long time isolated from everything, they've both started the process of healing.

Grace healing Grace is the natural state of things. He'd forgotten that before the events of this week.

After a long time, how long exactly Gabriel will never know, Amenadiel loosens his hold on the world. The air feels lighter as time resumes its normal pace.

Far away, Lucifer burns bright, unharmed and once again alone.

Gabriel carefully untangles his Grace from the world around him, but he doesn't run, even though he thinks he can probably fly without issue now. He's stopped feeling the injury torn through his Grace as intensely, and he knows instinctively that from here, he'll recover faster. So will Amenadiel.

Angels have always been stronger together. They weren't built to work alone.

If they had access to heaven they'd both be back to full power in no time, but since they don't, having each other will have to do.

Chapter Text

After reassuring himself that everyone is alright, and that no one involved in Mama's plot got stuck in heaven, Gabriel seeks out Maze's vile aura.

Upon spotting him, Maze says, "I'm sick of angel shit. If you've got another problem, deal with it yourself."

She's apparently already heard from Lucifer what happened, because she's back at her place, parking her motorcycle haphazardly across a car-sized parking spot.

Gabriel levels her with an exaggerated pout. "Can't a guy talk to his best fiend without a reason? What if my problem is loneliness?"

Maze rolls her eyes and takes out one of her knives. Gabriel laughs and holds his hands up. "Okay, fine, you've got me. I'm also sick of the angel shit. I figured you might have something interesting. You know, human-flavored."

The back of his head has been ringing with noise since Lucifer name-dropped him yesterday, and they still haven't fucking stopped. Gabriel this, Gabriel that. Angel radio has long been reduced to a wordless background murmur, but blocking it out doesn't work nearly as well when his attention is called to it like that.

It's been literal ages since he last heard his Enochian name, and it's wildly uncomfortable. He keeps looking over his shoulder.

There is no getting away from angel radio, but he figures hanging out with a demon is the furthest he'll ever get.

Maze raises a single eyebrow at him. "I can do 'human-flavored'."

Which is how Gabriel ends up under a large blanket on Maze's couch, along with a six year old. He wonders mildly how the hell Maze managed to poach him for babysitting duty.

He has nothing better to do, is how.

"Where'd you even get a whole child?" Gabriel admires. Maze is sitting between them, focused entirely on picking the movie. "Did you steal it?"

"She's Chloe's," Maze says.

"You're funny," the brat tells him. Her smile reveals a missing tooth. "Are you like Lucifer?"

Well, damn. "I try not to be."

"You're Maze's friend," the child argues, as if that's all that matters to be considered 'like Lucifer'.

"We're not friends," Maze responds automatically, even as she lands on a movie. "Trixie, have you seen Mean Girls yet?"

"Nope!" Trixie says. "Mom says I'm not allowed to watch the movies that have the number 13 on them."

Maze barely glances at the PG-13 icon on screen. "Fuck your mom."

Trixie looks ecstatic when the movie loads up, and Maze looks vaguely smug, the way she does when she's successfully baited out a bar brawl. It all feels surreal.

Gabriel knows at least half the lines in Mean Girls by heart, but he doesn't object.

The blanket draped haphazardly over him shifts as Maze settles back into the cushions. Gabriel twists one of the blanket's corners between his fingers. It's surprisingly soft for something that worn through.

Between that, the communal popcorn bucket, and the actual real child on the couch, it's the most human Gabriel's felt since... well, ever. Even taking into consideration that he's already spent the last however many weeks with historically low levels of Grace, more mortal than he's ever been.

When he asked Maze for something human, he thought he'd be getting... Actually, he doesn't know what he was expecting, but this wasn't it. More like something gambling-related, or fighting, or both at the same time. Even so, Maze sure delivered on her end of the deal.

While Maze fields all of Trixie's questions about the movie with answers like "Because they're pussies," or "I'd do the same thing," Gabriel busies himself with comparing this movie to the one in his head. It's a different universe, who's to say the plot or the actresses are all the same?

At one point, the tone of Trixie's questions shifts to "Hey, you have taffy! Can I have a piece?"

Gabriel glances over to see she's abandoned her popcorn to make puppy dog eyes at him instead.

"Uh, no," Maze shuts it down immediately, not impressed when Trixie turns the puppy dog eyes on her. "Ask me again when you're out of baby school and I'll get you high." She pauses briefly. "Don't tell your mom I said that."

Trixie pulls a face, weighing the pros and cons of snitching.

"If you tell your mom I said that, she'll make sure you never get to have fun in high school," Maze warns.

With a groan, Trixie collapses back on the couch. "Fine, I won't say anything."

Maze briefly and awkwardly pats the top of her head, like she's a dog. When Trixie just goes along with it as if it's a normal interaction, Gabriel raises an eyebrow.

"And here I was prepared to pass over the normal taffy," he drawls. He'd had zero confidence that Maze would interfere with him drugging her charge. Maybe he's been misreading how much Maze actually wants to be here.

The supernatural is soft here. Even demons can be civil. He still hasn't adjusted to that.

"You have normal candy?" Maze asks skeptically.

Gabriel makes a vague gesture, and hands Maze a wrapped piece of taffy. His Grace is recovering, he can splurge a little.

She squints at it, leery of anything Grace-related. "Is that safe?"

"Who do you think I am?" Gabriel says, exaggerating his offense. Of course it's safe.

Getting bored of the byplay she can't follow, Trixie asks, "So can I have it or not?"

Maze sighs and hands it over. Trixie beams as she starts unwrapping it. "Thanks!"

It takes Gabriel a moment or two to realize that's aimed at him. It gives him pause, but Trixie has already turned her full attention back to the movie, not wanting to miss anything else.

Trixie is straight up scandalized when Cady takes all the blame for the Burn Book. "But she's new at school!" she says. "How would she have gotten all those old pictures?"

Gabriel has, admittedly, never actually analyzed the believability of Mean Girls. He's never thought too hard about it.

Obviously not expecting a real answer, Trixie fixates on the screen again. She's invested, as she should be.

Good taste for a toddler.

Gabriel's gaze slides to Maze again.

She doesn't seem like she's been blackmailed into this. And who would be stupid enough to blackmail Maze, anyway? Gabriel believes firmly that no one can make Maze do something she explicitly doesn't want to do.

Which means that, at the very least, Maze has begrudgingly accepted to babysit. And even then, the way she's interacting with Trixie--with both of them, really--it does make it seem like she wants to be here.

"What?" Maze asks eventually, when he keeps looking. She doesn't turn to meet his gaze, but she's tensed up. "Got something to say to me?"

Gabriel hums, non-committal, and waits until the scene is over. It's one of his favorites, and he doesn't want to ruin the child's Mean Girls experience. That's too evil, even for him.

He stretches his wings again, halfway through the couch in terms of the physical plane, but quickly abandons the attempt when he winces. He's been habitually doing that since the evening started, like poking at a healing bruise. It's better than it was.

By the time he pulls himself out of the movie and remembers that Maze asked him a question, the credits are rolling. Still, Gabriel says, "You know, just trying to figure out your latest scheme."

"You asked for this, fuckface," Maze says. She's narrowed her eyes at him like he's the weird one. He's not the demon that's playing at being human.

Okay, Gabriel is explicitly playing at being human today, so maybe he's not much better. Maybe there's a shitty equivalent demon radio that Maze is trying to tune out. What does he know, anyway?

Trixie gasps and says, "There's a second movie!"

Gabriel glances at the screen and sees that a list of recommended movies has come up. Maze groans as she also spots what Trixie is eyeing--Mean Girls 2.

Sensing her babysitter's oncoming refusal, Trixie makes big eyes at Maze and says, "You promised a movie marathon, remember? You picked the first one, so I get to pick the second one."

In the face of Maze's despair, Gabriel grins and parrots, "Yeah, Maze, you promised." He adds the same amount of whine into his voice as Trixie was using.

"Mean Girls 2 sucks," Maze says emphatically, even as she selects it. "I've used it to break human souls so many times, even I'm sick of it."

Trixie isn't dissuaded. When it's clear that Maze has given in, she reaches over Maze's lap for a high five. Bemused, Gabriel obliges her.

Her hand is tiny, but Trixie hits with some serious force. If Gabriel didn't know humans better by now, he'd have guessed she was asserting dominance.

Trixie looks at Maze. "He's fun. Can he come to my birthday party?"

"Of course he's fun." Maze nearly looks affronted. "He's mine. If you want him for your birthday, you're going to have to earn it."

"What am I being volunteered for right now," Gabriel asks, but it gets lost against Trixie and Maze's conversation, which is devolving into a dead serious conversation about favors and equivalent exchange.

Honestly, Gabriel can't tell if this is a demon habit that was taught to a child, or a schoolyard habit that was taught to a demon. Children can be pretty vicious about favors.

It's not far into watching the second movie that Trixie is converted to the 'movie sucks' side, after she realizes the first movie's main cast isn't coming back at all. Gabriel, on the other hand, hasn't seen this one quite enough to know it by heart, and he's fascinated. Not by the story or the acting quality--he's fascinated that every single outfit they put the actresses in is worse than the last. You'd think one would stumble into an acceptable outfit now and then, just by sheer luck, but the costuming department seems to be actively trying to fuck it all up. Slighted fans of the original, maybe?

Gabriel and Maze spend the whole movie bitching about the particulars, long after Trixie has already drifted off, her head lolling sideways against the back of the couch. She'd looked prepared to stay up for hours, earlier, but that determination vanished very quickly. Gabriel is sure she would've stayed awake past her bedtime if the plot was anything she actually cared about.

It's not until the movie is over and done with that Maze looks over at him, and her eyes catch.

After a moment of squinting, her features rearrange into something Gabriel is tempted to interpret as slightly-alarmed. Her eyes trail past the couch for the first time in hours, and this time it's not to check on popcorn in the microwave.

"Why does your soul have wings now?" she demands.

Oh. He's been ruffling his wings again, stretching muscles that aren't supposed to be able to hurt. She might have caught his flinch, and decided to see him properly for the first time tonight.

Gabriel forces his restless Grace to still, and tries to ignore the mortifying ordeal of being known. This is good. He has enough Grace to form complete wings again. It's been a while.

"I don't actually have wings," Gabriel says, waving off Maze's question as he completely avoids explaining his damage. "How could I have gotten wings when avians, and physical matter in general, was so far off? What I have is the concept of wings. They've only been like this for a couple billion years, and they're definitely not constrained to the physical plane." Wincing again, he grumbles, "Not that my fucking vessel seems to fucking get that."

"Your fucking what-now?"

Maze's face is scrunched up, incredulous, and Gabriel already regrets saying anything at all. The whole reason he came here was for a distraction from the angel-related bullshit in the first place. He keeps stumbling into reminders that this isn't his family, isn't his universe.

This place is too familiar to consider it not his, even though that's the truth of the matter. He doesn't feel like an alien, but he is.

With half a sigh, he says, "Forget it. Yeah, my soul has wings, end of sentence."

"Why are you like this?" Maze asks, and it's half a demand, half a complaint.

"I was too successful, dad had to break me somehow," Gabriel quips back.

Deadpan, Maze says, "I meant your wings, asshole. No other angel I've met had wings like that."

Gabriel's smile turns grim. "Yeah. That's what I meant too."

This could never be home to him, whether or not he wants it to be. Even after healing completely, he won't be anything like the rest of the angels in this place. He was thrown out like an old toy that had grown too worn to be repaired anymore.

"You want to go punch something?" Maze offers. "I know a couple places."

Gabriel looks at her deeply uncomfortable countenance and almost bursts out laughing. He manages to constrict it to a loud chuckle, his eyes glittering with it. "You don't need to comfort me," he says.

"Oh, thank fuck," Maze breathes. "I'd just punch you and tell you to man up, but Chloe yelled at me when I did that, so now it's my second resort. You sure you're not going to brood about it?"

"I wouldn't dare," Gabriel mock-promises.

Maze is a demon; she wants nothing to do with emotions. Neither does Gabriel, honestly, so they're a good match. If she thinks bringing up angel matters could lead to brooding, she'll avoid it forever, lest she has an allergic reaction from just being nearby. Gabriel is fine with that.

"I better flee before the kid wakes up," Gabriel remarks, glancing at Trixie on the other side of the couch. "See you next week?"

"Sure," Maze says. "You can introduce me to your favorite hangouts for a change. Only fair."

Gabriel doesn't miss the implication that this is one of Maze's favorite hangouts. Movie marathons with a small human child. He doesn't comment. He shrugs, and says, "Sure. I know a thing or two about travel for pleasure."

He extracts himself from the blanket, figuring that any air displacement from his wings would probably knock a few things over in here. Maze stays on the couch, because, as Gabriel soon sees, there's a dead weight pinning her down in the form of the child.

Hm. Missed photo opportunity, he thinks, as he retreats around the couch. Maze would kill him if she sees him taking a picture, sleeping tyke be damned. He'll have to save the image in his memory.

"March first."

"Excuse me?" Gabriel halts, turning to look.

"Trixie's birthday," Maze says. She can't look back at him without moving her body and the kid, so she's staring into space in the vague direction of the TV. "It's March first. Be there."

"Sure thing, boss," Gabriel says. He's sure his surprised pause was small enough to go unnoticed.

A fucking birthday. Gabriel isn't sure he's ever celebrated a birthday in his life, much less attended a children's birthday party. But Maze has declared it, and so it shall be. It's only been a couple hours of seeing the two together, but Gabriel gets the impression that Maze cares about Trixie a whole lot, and that she would not be afraid to string him up by his entrails if he does anything to displease her.

Or, she might try, anyway. She wouldn't succeed.

March first is still, what, nine months away? Gabriel doesn't actually know how long he's been in this universe. At some point, he'd stopped keeping track. It's still summer, anyway, and March is a long way off.

Gabriel will have a birthday party to attend next year. He can't go wandering too far, then.