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There were times when Lucifer looked back on his days in Heaven with fondness, At the beginning it had been new, thrilling. There were moments of uncertainty, times when he didn't really know those who he was around, he only knew himself.Honestly, that was all he ever knew.
They had grown from meager strangers to family in a time when there was only bliss, unfiltered light, and joy. He had nothing but good things to say about the people he had called his brothers, how could he ever think of them as anything but that?
But then things began to change, little inconsequential moments that began to build until they became unavoidable. He would push those doubts away, mark those moments off as a bad day or try to convince himself he was seeing something that wasn't there, that it was him that was the problem- he wasn't trusting enough, he didn't care enough about them to believe them.
But that wasn't the case, was it? It had always been that way, hadn't it? His treatment had always been so harsh, he had always been so alone even when surrounded by his “friends”. He had never expected to be everyone's favourite. He knew those who had been more easily trusting, those who had always been there, would be above him. They would be the better friend, the better brother. He didn't want to replace those who came before him, he just wanted to be a part of the family that they had created.
Michael had told him that he loved him, that he cared about him just as much as the others, so, why shouldn't he have believed him? He hadn't known any better.
He should've known better.
He should've trusted his instincts not to believe them, to let his guard down. He should have listened to his gut when he started to see the signs. He should've run while he had the chance.
But it was too late now. Now all of his fears had been confirmed, he didn't matter anymore. Had he ever really mattered? Did they ever truly care?
When Lucifer thought it couldn't have gotten worse, it did. The ignorance turned bitter, not just vague dismissal but sour words being spat at him telling him he wasn't wanted, he wasn't needed.
No one would ever need him.
No one would ever want him.
That was what echoed in his mind, the unspoken truths that his brother had cruelly spared him. Perhaps, if they had just told him he wouldn't have believed them. If one of his brothers said the words Lucifer thought to himself he probably would've thought it as nothing more than some meaningless words sputtered into a spiteful remark, something meant to hurt, but not something he really meant.
But, oh, the words left unspoken really did cut the deepest.
Wounds so deep they would never really heal; no amount of love or time or pride would fix this.
And yet, as the end grew closer all he had hoped for was that they put aside their problems with him in favour of something better, something more than themselves. Just one final moment, one final creation that they would be able to look back on with some sense of fondness, something that they would be able to see and say “You know what, after all of this, after all we've been through we worked together and created something beautiful.”
And they did.
It just wasn't what they expected, what they dreamed of when they first set out on their journey, and yet, it was stunning. It wasn't perfect but it was theirs and they did everything they could. Lucifer was proud.
Had it been worth all of the hurt? Perhaps not, but if he hadn't gone through it all he would still be ignorant. He would be scared and confused and too willing to trust even with the hesitation.
Did it make their actions any better? God, no.
Was it worth it? Well he wouldn't change a thing.