Chapter Text
When Lucifer stepped through the rift created by the specially forged shears and onto the cracked ground of an Earthly desert, he was nearly knocked over by the feeling of relief that he was finally home. How long had it been, since Amenadiel forced him back down to Hell? Since he set Lux on fire and nearly killed Maze? Since Lucifer returned and found his mother free?
Tension wound its way back up his spine as his mother followed him through. She looked around in triumph as they left Hell behind, the rift shrinking on its own until it vanished. The few flakes of ash that had blown through soon mixed with sand and dirt, until they were indistinguishable from their surroundings.
“We did it, Lucifer,” his mother said, confidence and victory easy in her mouth.
“So it seems,” Lucifer acknowledged, knowing that this was the simplest part of his plan and that the hard part was still to come.
He looked at her sidelong, taking advantage of her momentary distraction at the view of something besides Hell for the first time since she was locked in her cage. She’d caught glimpses of Earth in Hell loops, primarily through his own when she felt he deserved a time out, and before she was caged, but it was different in person.
To non-humans, Hell loops always had an air of falsehood to them, a feel that you were on a set even if you couldn’t see that you were. Lucifer closed his eyes to savor the spin of the Earth beneath him, the lack of ash in the air, the sunlight on his face, the wind in his hair—the feeling of being part of life again.
There was no comparison.
It wouldn’t last long though, not for a being such as his mother and not as she is now. Even before Hell, she never set foot on Earth if she could help it. So, however welcome the sight was after, it was still a far cry from the Silver City she built. The Silver City she would always consider home. The body he forged for her in the bowels of Hell at her request to help pressure and rebuild her power was littered with cracks, her divine light bleeding through. He wasn’t sure whether it said more about Death Valley or his mother’s light that it was unclear which was more punishing.
Was it the light that made him reconsider his decision to try to talk her out of her plan one last time? The reminder that for all he was his father’s, he was hers too. Her light shined in him; it was from her—not his father—that he got most of his light bringer abilities. “Mother, I’ve brought you this far. Won’t you consider going the last bit on your own?”
“Lucifer, my son,” she puts her hands on his shoulders. “I thought you gave up all this talk about staying on Earth,” his mother’s voice was soft, cajoling, but condescending, as though he continued to want something that was bad for him and that he was too naïve to know see it. “You belong in our home, with your family—not here among these lowly humans.”
“The Silver City stopped being my home long before I was thrown from its heights,” Lucifer said, the hellfire on the shears he’d created guttering slightly at his upheaval of emotion. “I want to move forward, not go back. I want to stay on Earth.”
“Lucifer, you are too good for this world,” his mother said, waving her hand distastefully at the sand and scrub around them. “We need to go to the Silver City and reclaim our home. We need to fight for it and make it ours once more. We deserve vengeance against your father for what he has done to us.”
“I don’t want vengeance,” Lucifer couldn’t help the pleading that entered into his voice, too desperate to have just one parent who listened to what he wanted when he voiced it. “I just want to live my own life—to be left alone and out of his games and schemes and plans.”
“Don’t you see?” she replied. His mother lifted her hand to cup his cheek. “He will never allow that. That is why we need to go there, with the weapon and put a stop to him, once and for all.”
“Waring with this,” Lucifer shook the shears, “will only cause destruction.” Why did she think he had created shears and not a sword? Sure, he told her that was the only way to cut between worlds without the flaming sword, but it was because he wanted to make a tool and not a weapon that she could misuse.
“Sometimes destruction is needed to build anew,” his mother replied. “I know you’ve never understood that because you were made to create, but it is the way of things. That is why we both need to go. I need to tear him down and you need to help me rebuild our family. Why else do you think he worked so hard to drive a wedge between us? We can win this, especially if you help me convince your siblings to join us. We are stronger than him, if we unite.”
“You truly think my presence at your side will help convince the others?” Lucifer asked, his voice colored with dubious disbelief. “They didn’t listen to me the last time—no one did.”
“Ah, however this time, I am on your side,” his mother reminded him, as if he could ever forget her indifference when he was thrown from the Silver City’s heights by his own twin brother at his father’s command. “No more of this delaying, son. Cut our way home,” she commanded, her voice strong and then an edge entered it, “Or I will take the shears and do it myself.”
“Very well, Mum. If this is how it has to be,” Lucifer said reluctantly, raising his arms. He narrowed his eyes, cutting carefully and deliberately. Silver light began bleeding through, a cool breeze carrying with it a distant song, as the opening widened.
His mother’s eyes glittered as she beheld the home she had built for her family for the first time in millennia and he knew she wouldn’t be distracted for long.
“I’m sorry that it has to be this way,” Lucifer said, his voice heavy with regret. With a snap he broke the shears in half, separating the two blades from each other. For a second he held two flaming blades before both blew out, leaving behind only scraps of metal. Lucifer put the hell forged blade in his pocket and threw the steel half tempered in his mother’s divine light and heat through the opening he’d created to the Silver City.
“What did you do?!” his mother screamed. “We needed that in order to fight!”
“No, I will not cause the death of any of my siblings,” Lucifer replied, hellfire warming his eyes as he spoke. “And I’ve told you, Earth is my home. You’re welcome to the Silver City though—you and Dad deserve each other,” there was a vicious twist to his mouth as he practically spat the words at her, relived to finally be able to speak freely since he first found her on his throne. “Neither of you knows how to listen, how to put the needs of your children over your own. I didn’t even realize how selfish you both were until I lived here and saw how real parents are supposed to act.
“I got you out of Hell and I opened the door home,” Lucifer said before holding up a hand, “but I refuse to go with you and I refuse to let you endanger anyone here. The only way forward is through—so go.”
“Not without you, you’re my son,” his mother’s voice was deadly in her fury and the cracks she sported grew wider. She reached out for him, grasping his shoulders tightly, her light searing into him. “And you will come with me. We are going to do this together.”
“No, we’re not.” Lucifer grabbed her, and began forcing her back.
“Yes, we are,” she replied, furious he was still physically stronger than her. “Why are you fighting me?”
He had her through the door, his hands burned from where they came in contact with her light, his physical form unable to withstand pure divine pressurized energy. He ignored the pain as he pressed her closer and closer. She latched onto him with a wiry strength he didn’t expect and was now trying to pull him after her through the slowly shrinking gateway.
“Because I made my choice.” Lucifer managed to take advantage of the momentary weakness of her disintegrating form, pulling her hands from him. He pulled her slightly closer by them and then flung her bodily away from the doorway and stepped back. “Goodbye, Mum.”
“Lucifer!” she screamed as her divine light splintered her form and she rushed towards him, but it was too late. The rift was closed and they were on opposite sides.
Lucifer tried to catch his breath as he studied his hands as they were the only parts of him that had direct contact with his mother and had suffered the most from her divine light. They were a vivid red and stung in a way that suggested it was probably a bad sign they didn’t hurt more. Uncontrolled divine light like his mother’s, which she had only recently been able to rebuild up to any semblance of her former power, was just as damaging as celestial or infernal weapons.
Ironic that he was the one who had crafted the body which allowed her to pressurize and regain the powers his father, with a few key siblings, had worked hard to strip her of. And it’s first use had been to hurt him.
Ironic for the Light Bringer, ruler of Hell, to be so burned.
He shrugged, looking away and letting his hands fall to his sides—it wasn’t as though he didn’t have practice ignoring burns or pain. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t expected it, knowing she wouldn’t go quietly, and now he needed to figure out his next move.
He was just lucky that it would take her longer still to regain the ability to move between dimensions—something she had never been particularly interested in or skilled at. The advantage to time moving faster in the Silver City, inverse of its slower speed in Hell, was that hopefully he’d be able to enjoy a century or two on Earth before she could come back to take it out on him.
As long as none of his siblings helped her, of course. Angels were designed to move between dimensions—easiest way to follow Dad’s orders.
Speaking of siblings, there was the woosh of feathers behind him and Lucifer turned to find Amenadiel glowering at him. Well, he’d hoped to have a bit more time than that.
“Brother!” Lucifer said with false joy, automatically concealing his hands behind him: angels, demons—they all exploited any weakness. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but well, you know how I feel about lying.”
“Lucifer,” Amenadiel intoned, seeking his usual refuge behind a façade of implacability. “How did you get to Earth?”
“The tool Mum and I were making, designed to cut through the fabric of the world?” Lucifer suggested. He furrowed his brow in mock confusion, “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.”
Predictably, Amenadiel scowled, “Of course I haven’t! I remember telling you to only pretend to comply while I talked to Father in order to determine our next move.”
“Yes well,” Lucifer shrugged. He rolled his eyes just as he had the first time Amenadiel suggested it. “Not lying and being brilliant did make the task rather challenging, so I came up with my own plan.”
“You did what?!” Amenadiel took a menacing step forward.
“My. Own. Plan,” Lucifer replied, straightening under the disapproving and furious look Amenadiel was sending him. “Neither you nor Mum were really presenting good options.”
Lucifer went to hold up a hand, only remembering last minute to turn his palm towards himself so Amenadiel couldn’t see what Mum had done to his hands. “You wanted me to keep Mum busy in Hell while trying to get a straight answer from Dad—even knowing the selfish bastard never tells anybody anything and hasn’t for millennia. You were probably hoping he’d tell you to lock her back up, but perhaps with visiting hours and with me back on that awful throne.
Lucifer held up his other hand, also keeping the palm facing himself, for all he refused to look at them. They no longer hurt, which was definitely an extremely bad sign he couldn’t think about while facing Amenadiel down. “Mum wanted us both to go back to the Heaven, recruit all our other siblings, and kill Dad—or some other similar nonsense. Both plans landed me in Hell—regardless of which realm I actually ended up in.”
“What did you do?” Amenadiel asked, needing to know so he could decide just how angry he should be.
“Made the shears and told Mum I had to make a stop on Earth. Once here, I opened a portal to the Silver City. Threw Mum and half the shears through,” he grinned with all his teeth as he met Amenadiel’s disbelieving eyes. His shoulders twitched as he aborted the move to spread his injured hands out to show his brother what he’d done. “And now, look at you, you’re all caught up.
“I’m back on Earth where I want to be and Mum even got to go home like she wanted,” his pleased tone darkened as he continued. “If Dad wants her back in her cell, he can bloody well send her there himself. If he wants me back in Hell, same thing. Personally, I hope they tear each other to pieces, but I’ve decided I don’t care as long as they leave me out of it.”
“How could you do something so foolish?” Amenadiel demanded. Then he barked a dismissive laugh, “Never mind. I know exactly how. Just when I think you’ve matured even slightly, that you could maybe handle something on your own for once in your life, take some responsibility—you do something like this.”
“The part you’re missing is that it’s not my bloody responsibility,” Lucifer hissed, beyond fed up with Amenadiel’s condescending attitude. “I’m my own man and Mum or Dad or Hell are not my duty or my responsibility. They are my punishment and as I told you however long ago—I quit. Count me out. I’m done.”
“You don’t get to make that decision,” Amenadiel replied. “How could you be so short-sighted? As if a war between Mother and Father, likely involving our siblings, wouldn’t involve you.”
“I thought you wanted a war,” Lucifer said spitefully. His eyes cut to Amenadiel, sizing him up. “Or is that only against me, without my wings? You’ve always loved a sure fight. Too bad our deal still hasn’t expired. You may have been able to force me back to Hell before, but you can’t anymore.”
“Oh Luci,” Amenadiel said, a smirk blooming across his face. “This is what I meant about short-sightedness. What exactly is stopping me from going down to Hell and finishing what I started with your pet demon?”
Lucifer’s eyes narrowed and hellfire bloomed to life within. His hands were fists at his side and he didn’t feel an ounce of pain. Lucifer took a step forward, “You will not touch her ever again.”
Amenadiel leaned forward, “Who is going to stop me?”
“I am,” Lucifer’s eyes brightened. “I already have, brother. Don’t you see?” his voice turned honeyed and smooth, grateful that he really did seem to be one step ahead for once in his existence. “As if I would leave Hell unprotected. It might not be my job, but I can take some responsibility when I feel like it. I don’t want Earth overrun with demons or miserable awful humans escaping their punishments.” He rolled his shoulders casually, an old habit from when he still had wings to call on to aid him in his battles, but his teeth seemed sharper than usual, “So I set Mazikeen up as regent in my absence. Fixed the barrier too. Have fun trying to get through it now.”
“You think you can keep me out of Hell?” Amenadiel actually sounded like he was going to laugh. “After all these years, what makes you suddenly think you have the ability to do that? Especially without your wings.”
“You do know I’ve never actually tried to keep you out of Hell before, right?” Lucifer asked, intrigued. Had Amenadiel had trouble getting into Hell in the past? He never seemed to come further than just inside or to drop Lucifer high on his throne. Even his visits recently, when they discussed Mum had been rather short, but Lucifer had thought it was just because Amenadiel didn’t want to be there. Maybe that’s why it had been easier than he expected to set the barrier to exclude him. “Give it a try, dear brother.”
Amenadiel gave him a superior look, “I think I will, just so I can demonstrate to you the foolishness of your actions. You won’t look so smug when I break your favorite toy again.”
Lucifer’s face darkened at his brother’s way of speaking about Maze, but before he could reply, Amenadiel had spread his wings and was gone.
Lucifer slumped slightly once he was sure Amenadiel was gone and tried to distract himself from his nervousness over whether or not his changes to the barrier around Hell would hold. He licked his lips absently, glancing up at the sun and briefly wondering if perhaps he had overdone it with the heat, it really was quite oppressive. Even his celestial constitution was suffering under its blistering gaze.
Speaking of blisters, he slowly and painfully uncurled his fists. He was unable to keep from looking at his palms, which were enflamed and bleeding now. In fact, he could feel a few scattered spots across his body where Mum’s leaking light must have touched him.
When they had first landed back in Hell and found she’d taken his command, he’d been more than content to leave her to it—especially if it kept her distracted. However, after she’d sought to remove his ban on demonic possession in order to get back at his father, he’d had to wrest control back from her. He’d taken to wearing infernal armor when out in public, unable to show any weakness to any of his demonic citizens in case they tried to rebel once more. More than a few had decided his mother was worth her mercurial moods.
However, in preparation for their trip back to earth, he’d changed into a suit that looked as though it had come out of his closet at Lux—before Amenadiel had burned it down, of course. The fabric was not fortified in any way so there were various holes burned in it to show reddened and peeling skin. A lost cause, he thought with a sigh, the first thing he did when he regained control of his assets was going to be to buy a whole new—.
His thoughts were cut off when a large and heavy form tackled him, causing his breath to rush out of him in a surprised gasp as he landed hard on his back. A cloud of sand and dust erupted around them as Amenadiel pushed him into the ground by his shoulders, “What have you done!?”
Despite the pain from the ground digging into him and from the force of the blow, Lucifer grinned triumphantly. “Problem penetrating, Amenadiel?”
“How could you do this?” Amenadiel demanded as he threw a punch at Lucifer’s face. The Devil let it land, smiling through bloodstained teeth. Lucifer had to give his brother some credit, he did seem genuinely worried about the effect this was going to have on Hell. If only he ever listened to what Lucifer said. “Not only have you left a demon in charge, but you’ve made it so I can’t even fix your mistake!”
“Mistake?” Lucifer had given up on in convincing Amenadiel that Hell didn’t need constant monitoring or a celestial on the throne centuries ago, that his breaks weren’t causing harm to anyone’s soul, well, beyond that which was intended. Amenadiel refused to believe that his words were anything more than excuses he gave to himself to justify having a good time on Earth. Why did no one ever take him at his word? “Mistake?
“No,” Lucifer shoved up, pushing Amenadiel off. “The mistake was ever thinking you would listen to me.” He’d ruled Hell for eons, since before the first human souls even showed up. He knew how it worked better than anyone, no matter what Amenadiel liked to pretend to believe. He left nothing to chance this time around, even more than when he decided to retire in the first place. Hell was a well-oiled machine at this point and he had no illusions when it came to it or Maze, not after all they’d been through. “Mazikeen will ensure Hell runs smoothly—I trust her, far more than I trust you. Who do you think that says more about? Her? Me? Or you?”
“You!” Amenadiel whipped at Lucifer with his bladed primaries and then kicked out his knee. He grabbed Lucifer by his shirt, sneering in his face. “Only a fool would trust a demon, especially over their brother.”
“My demon punishes those who deserve it,” Lucifer said and Amenadiel made to hit him for the implication that Amenadiel didn’t. Lucifer caught his fist, but he also couldn’t conceal his flinch at the sudden flare pain it caused his hands.
Quicker than Lucifer expected, Amenadiel grasped him by the wrist and caught sight of the ruined flesh that used to be his palms. “Brother, Light Bringer, I didn’t think you could get burned.”
Lucifer snarled and his face changed instantly, ruined red flesh revealed. It was Amenadiel’s turn to flinch, never having grown accustomed to his brother’s other face since he brought it out so infrequently around him. He released Lucifer’s wrist like he was the one who had been burned and Lucifer took advantage of the opening to kick him squarely in the chest, sending Amenadiel stumbling back several yards. “I have always been susceptible to burning. It seems the only thing our parents agree on.”
“Nonsense, I’m sure they both also agree you’re nothing, but a disappointment,” Amenadiel bit back. “You were to be the brightest of us and look where you’ve fallen.” He lunged at Lucifer and they ended up grappling, faces fixed in fury.
“Of course, another thing I seem to be so good at,” Lucifer replied, sweeping Amenadiel’s leg only for his brother to pull him down after him and send him flying off him over his head. When Lucifer picked himself up again, his devil face had once again been replaced with his angelic one. His eyes were manic as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, “I wonder, can it even be called a fall when one has been pushed?”
“And there you go, shifting the blame. When will you ever get over your pride, brother? When will you just admit to being wrong for once in your existence?”
Lucifer laughed and it was a cruel, desperate sound. This was all just too much. He’d felt like he’d was being slowly pulled apart at the seams ever since Amenadiel had burned Lux and broken Maze in order to force Lucifer back to Hell. Since Mum, since quelling demonic uprisings, since his mother’s punishments of him every time she was displeased, since he’d hoped for Amenadiel’s help only to lose it. “I have been wrong many, many times, Amenadiel. But about Father? About deserving free will? No. On that, I know what I’ve always known. That I am in the right.”
Amenadiel gave a wordless cry at his audacity, at his blasphemy, and threw himself at his arrogant brother with all his might and all his speed. Lucifer fell heavily to the ground and he was reminded of when he had burned his wings. The burns left by his mother screamed in agony as he laughed while Amenadiel rained down blow after blow. Even his back, where he knew there was no burns was feeling the pain as he was ground into the rocks beneath him. “Shouldn’t you be headed home, brother? No telling what sort of mess is waiting for you to clean up there.”
Amenadiel knew it was true and yet he raged at how ineffectual he was at punishing Lucifer for what he’d done, the damage he caused, just as he had the first time. He wasn’t built for this, not like Lucifer was. So he decided, for once, to sink down to Lucifer’s level. He stood up and Lucifer remained on the ground grinning up at him under the fresh bruises blossoming on his face. It wasn’t enough. Lucifer had to pay.
His eyes landed on Lucifer’s hands and he felt his gaze sharpen, even as Lucifer lost some of his confidence. “Yes, I have more important things to deal with than you.” Lucifer scoffed, even as some of the strange tension he’d just been feeling at Amenadiel’s look had dissipated slightly.
That’s when Amenadiel struck, he jumped and landed perfectly, one booted foot on each of Lucifer’s hands. “Let me leave you with the only punishment you’ll manage to feel. Good luck playing now.” He pressed his weight down and Lucifer screamed as his burned hands were crushed utterly under Amenadiel’s focused power.
Then he vanished, leaving Lucifer in the sand, alone. Lucifer abruptly felt all his injuries at once, adrenaline from the threat vanishing so quickly he would have fallen if he’d still been standing. He curled around himself, burned skin pulling, bruises throbbing, and through it all his hands screaming in pain. Every part of him hurt.
Here he was, back on earth where he wanted to be, Maze protected, his mother banished, his brother maybe finally leaving him alone and he couldn’t even savor it. His mind flickered as he tried to convince himself this wasn’t another Hell loop punishment, as he tried to convince himself that this time, this time, he would get to stay where he wanted to be.
He wondered what it said that it tasted like a lie in his mind. He just wanted the power to live his life as he wished without interference from anyone. Why was that so hard to achieve? What was the point of it all if he never could be truly free?
He almost didn’t notice at first when the pain from his back started to ache more fiercely than his hands. By the time his wings erupted from his shoulder blades, he was nearly numb to it all. Blood dripping down his back, he welcomed the darkness behind his eyelids with relief.
Maybe it would all finally just stop.