Chapter Text
Prologue
The day had been clear. No cloud had been in sight. The night was the same, despite the lasting humidity. For this reason alone, had anyone been on the beach, they would not have expected the sudden appearance of dark thunderclouds or the rising of crashing waves. Nor would they have expected the suddenly falling figure whose harsh impact with the water remained silent over the sounds of the waves crashing together.
Said figure appeared moments later, flailing in its attempt to gain purchase in the water. Large wings, dark as the clouds above, flapped chaotically in the effort of flight but were utterly useless in their waterlogged state. No one would have expected the figure of a man to struggle to stand as he reached the sandy shore and then stumble his way out of the grip of the reaching waves; those same large wings hung heavily at his back as the water rolled off them.
Michael had been called home shortly after the fight with his brother. He obeyed the summons, as any obedient son would, and went, ready to complete whatever awaited him quickly so he could return to destroying his brother’s life. He had not expected his father to sentence him to Earth for the foreseeable future. Michael had initially scoffed, but when he tried to get back in the gates of the Silver City, he had found them locked to him. At first, he had been confused. Father had never locked the gates to one of them, especially not him. Only Lucifer had been completely banished from the Silver City. Try as he might, though, the gates would not budge an inch for him. The confusion had quickly turned to anger, attempting to hide the fear he would never admit to. His Father couldn’t…wouldn’t…but the large gust of wind that had knocked off his balance and sent him into a free fall into the ocean had answered that quickly enough.
Michael hissed as his attempt to rub the water off his face only rubbed the salt into the recent gash on his face even deeper. Talk about adding insult to injury. Angrily, Michael shook his wings to release the water from them in a rain onto the sand. They rose almost back to their normal resting state after being unloaded from their burden, but water still dripped from the primaries. Michael flipped around, facing the ocean, and glared upward at the dark clouds.
“What could I possibly have done to deserve this punishment, Father?”
Nothing.
“Lucifer never does as he’s told and nothing ever happens to him. I meddle just a little, and this is what I get?”
Thunder rolled ominously above him. Michael seethed. “I harmed no one! He was the one to injure me!”
More thunder this time, followed by a flash of light in the clouds. “This isn’t fair!” Michael shouted, his wings raised and fluffed in his anger.
Thunder cracked loud enough that even Michael flinched away, his wings tucking close to his back. A moment passed before Michael stepped back into his anger. His wings lifted once more, though in a slightly more subdued manner.
“Fine,” he growled out between clenched teeth. He knew from many previous events that pushing against his father would not give any satisfying results; at least, none that were in his favor. “How do you propose I survive down here, then? In this?” He motioned to his now ruined clothes. The saltwater would not be kind to them.
A soft rumble echoed down before pieces of fabric fell over Michael’s face. Michael yanked the offending garments off and snarled. “One little outfit? Come on!”
Nothing else was forthcoming. All signs of the impending storm vanished away, as though they had never been there to begin with. The sky was once again clear, and the ocean was still and calm.
On the shore, however, a storm erupted. Michael seethed and raged. He kicked at the sand, but it was nowhere near satisfying enough. There wasn’t anything around that he could throw or punch. Clenching his hands into fists, he screamed out his anger and frustration, not once admitting to himself that he was hiding fear behind the emotions.
Eventually, he stood still, eyes closed, and breathing harshly through his nose. His wings vibrated against his back. Michael gave them another shake to release more water from them before shrugging them away. Opening his eyes, he turned and stormed down the beach.
So, stuck on Earth, was he? Father didn’t want him meddling with Lucifer, did he? Well, Michael didn’t even need to lay eyes on Lucifer to ruin his life. No, he would simply turn his demon against him.
Michael needed to have a little chat with Mazikeen.
Chapter 1
Michael leaned against the railing overlooking the City of Los Angeles. The wind blew, making the water in the nearby pool ripple softly.
A few days had passed since his forced arrival. He had his talk with the demon, knowing that she would make her move at any point, though, honestly, he had not expected it to take quite this long. Michael had other things he needed to do, anyway.
The first thing he did was sneak his way back into Lucifer’s penthouse while his brother was busy in Lux. He would need lodging considering he was no longer allowed into the Silver City for the foreseeable future. Who knew how long it would be before Father cooled off enough to relent on this current punishment? Michael quickly found the paperwork on Lucifer’s multiple properties around L.A.. Choosing the smallest one, the one least likely to be used (why his over-embellished brother owned it was a mystery to even him), he made his way quickly to the hills surrounding the city.
Compared to the other properties Lucifer owned, this little villa, while still luxurious, was the most simple. Michael landed next to a decent-sized pool. Lounge chairs sat to the side with a small table between them. A seating area, surrounded by a solid white railing, was situated to the side of the villa. The cushions looked comfortable enough, but Michael was uninterested.
Michael took a few moments to orient himself to the one-level villa. He walked into a small sitting area. A loveseat and two cushioned chairs sat warmly around a small center table made of dark-stained wood. A lush carpet cushioned them on the dark stone tile. The living room was a step up, with an L-shaped couch curving around another center table. A short distance from them sat a lovely rustic fireplace with a large flat-screen TV mounted above it. Stepping around the corner, Michael found a dining area and a large kitchen. A breakfast bar separated the two. The kitchen featured polished granite counters, stainless steel appliances, and a sink nestled on a center island. The dining room had a sliding glass door that opened up to the terrace Michael had seen upon landing. Further exploration revealed a large master suite (with a large walk-in shower and pool/terrace access as well) and two smaller bedrooms that shared a bath between them. Michael took the master suite as his own. Other than the tile at the entrance, the floors were hardwood, and the walls were a light tan.
It was not the Silver City, but it would do.
Michael briefly attempted to find clothing, but with no access to the money humans lived their lives by, he had been limited. Leave it to his father to leave him literally with nothing. Sure, he was an archangel, but even his divinity had limits. He was not going to sink so low as to acquire a job.
So, Michael was left to wait impatiently while Mazikeen decided her next move. Normally, he would meander about the Silver City as he waited, carrying out his assigned duties as instructed eons ago. There was little he could do here without immersing himself among the humans. Pathetic little creatures; really. So fragile. So breakable.
Left with little to do but stew in his thoughts, Michael sat on the terrace overlooking the ever-bright city below him. Even here, the artificial light dimmed the natural light of the stars, even though still visible. He sneered up at them. His brother’s precious little creations. If he could, he’d rip every one of them out of the sky just to spite Lucifer. Father would never allow such a thing. That would probably be the one thing that his father would smite him over. In all honesty, Michael was not brave enough, nor suicidal enough, to attempt it.
Lucifer fucking Morningstar. God’s favorite. Oh, yes, the humans and their book got that right, at least. Samael and his perfect, pure white wings. The Light-bringer. The Morningstar. Michael scoffed. Even after his brother’s rebellion, he still got everything. A throne, a kingdom; he even got his own little subjects to rule over. Even when he dared come to Earth, they merely sent him back with a proverbial slap on the wrist. Why else would he keep popping up where he wasn’t supposed to be?
Then, to make matters even worse, Father made Lucifer a special little gift. A miracle. Michael couldn’t remember the last time his father created a miracle. They had all concluded that miracles were over and done with, and yet, there she was. Chloe Jane Decker. A perfect little package for the Devil himself. Michael gritted his teeth against the injustice of it all.
Granted, the little miracle was quite the spitfire herself. Michael hadn’t known what to expect when he had stepped into the shoes of his twin, but it certainly was not her. He had honestly expected a meek little thing that followed on Lucifer’s coattails. Chloe was decidedly not that. Human, she may be, but she still demanded respect. Chloe had certainly been onto him from the beginning, he now realized. The questions, the inquisitive looks, and the hesitation had all melted away as she turned his game against him. Michael had thought he’d won their little dance right before she shot him.
He has been punched, kicked, cut with knives, stabbed by swords and other various blades, but he has never been shot before. The loud echo in his ears had startled him more than the bullet’s impact. It had stung enough initially to get his attention, but had caused no more damage to him than if she had slapped him. Then she had the audacity to shoot him, not only once, not twice, but three more times. As if that wasn’t enough, she had compared him to Lucifer and his blood had boiled. He couldn’t let her get away with that, could he?
Michael smirked. He wondered how that little tidbit was festering. Going by the state of his brother the other night, it was going swimmingly. It was easy to get Lucifer riled up. He had his brother’s full attention for the first time since Lucifer’s rebellion, and he wasn’t one to waste the opportunity. Michael prided himself on being able to predict his brother’s actions, but Lucifer cutting into his face had surprised him. The healing gash stung as a reminder.
In more ways than one.
No matter. His plan would still succeed.
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At first, Chloe had been relieved, and admittedly a little confused, when Lucifer had randomly walked into the middle of gunfire. The act itself wasn’t surprising. Lucifer did many crazy things, but he was usually just a tad more careful when she was around, what with her causing him to be vulnerable and all. She had been so happy to see him and had ignored the feeling of wrongness that she had felt from him.
That wrongness had followed her every time they were in proximity to each other. Sometimes it would flare, making her feel nauseous and ill at ease. Sometimes, he would say things that would dim it and she would relax just a little, but it never truly went away. It was only after she played her own game and discovered the truth that it disappeared.
That, in itself, unnerved her. Discovering the devil’s twin had been impersonating him should make her feel uneasy. It shouldn’t make her feel at ease, right? That was what happened, though. The minute Michael admitted the truth to her, she felt everything within her relax. Even when he told her she was a literal gift from God, that wrongness never crept back in. Yes, she had tensed and rebelled against the very thought; of course, Michael had to be lying…but it hadn’t felt like a lie.
Then the actual Lucifer appeared and confirmed what she feared to be true. Michael had indeed been telling her the truth.
Chloe felt like she was in a celestial limbo with no way to get out.
The only way she could relax was the knowledge that she had an insider in Michael’s scheme.
Chloe watched Maze twist her blade around her fingers as she would when she was bored. She had not been expecting Maze to come barreling out of the closet after Michael left her in the loft and the two had startled one another. A quick conversation later and a new understanding had formed between them. Yes, Maze was irritated with Chloe, and Lucifer, at the moment, but she was pissed at Michael. Michael tracking Maze down to win her over to his side had only played him right where they wanted him.
“He wants you to ask about Lucifer’s ring?”
Maze shrugged. “Apparently. Lucifer has been keeping something from me, and the ring is part of that. Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Maze rolled her eyes, but Chloe knew better. The demon acted tough as nails and could be, but she had feelings just like the rest of them.
Chloe took a sip of the wine she was currently drinking. She was curled up on her couch in her apartment in her pajamas. Trixie was well asleep in her room by the time Maze had come over.
“So, ask him.”
Maze paused in her twirling and gave Chloe a look. “You’re serious.”
Chloe nodded. “If you don’t, it will make Michael suspicious.”
The demon looked at her blades in thought. “And if the truth pisses me off?”
“Then you can join the club.”
Maze sent her a glare. Chloe returned it by sending her (friend? Yes, friend) a small smile. She knew the demon hinted the truth could turn her against them - him - again. Chloe decided she would have, of all things, faith in the demon. Damn. She was in love with the devil and had faith in a demon…maybe she should just get a ticket to hell. Might be easier.
“The curiosity is eating at you, anyway. If it’s a hard truth, then we can both rip Lucifer a new one for keeping secrets.”
No, Chloe was not still upset about the whole keeping the ‘Gift from God’ thing secret. Nope, not at all. She’s allowed to be angry, damn it, and she would be.
Maze eyed the blonde detective a moment before she shrugged and stood. “Fine, but I’ll need the kid.”
Why would Maze need Trixie? Chloe didn’t know, but she knew Maze wouldn’t allow Trixie to come to any harm, and neither would Lucifer.