by L-J Baker
"My goodness did she scream. Melanie doesn't take to pain well. Did you know that?" The lies didn't even bother Luc. Being honest wouldn't piss off Michael, and right then, it was all he had. "You probably did, since you had no problem roughing her up."
Michael practically growled and lunged for Luc. Luc just managed to get out of the way. Lucky for him, he ended up closer to the jacket. Not close enough, but closer was better than further away.
"I wonder if she screamed as much as your little demon pet when I sliced her open." Michael's eyes twinkled while he likely recalled the memory. "Has she told you all the fun things we did together?"
"Fun? She said it was the most boring week of her life. You might need to step up your game. By the way, did I mention that it was Harley that was with Melanie at the end?" Luc felt the need to throw in at least a bit of the truth there.
"I'm really going to enjoy stabbing this thing into your heart, Lucifer. I've waited a long time for this."
"That's really sad, Mike. You might want to take up a hobby and stop being so obsessed with me. It's pathetic."
Michael lunged again and sliced Luc's arm. It was deep enough to hit bone, but Luc merely winced. He wouldn't let Michael have the satisfaction of knowing he'd hurt him. Blood ran down his arm and dripped onto his carpet. It was going to be a bitch to clean that up.
Luc was in this alone. Who knew what Michael did to Gabe and Az. He didn't even know if Uriel was all right, or if she was, if she would make it back. With the sigils Oz set up, she should have been warned when Michael showed up. The fact that she wasn't there, gave Luc a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Once again, Michael went at Luc. This time, he didn't try to duck, but instead lunged back, jabbing the dagger into Michael's chest. He yelled in pain and Luc pulled the blade out, then jumped back. Michael gripped the wound and his eyes went red. There was little recognizable in them. It was as if the brother he'd grown up with, the one he'd once looked up to, then hated for so long, wasn't even in there. He was gone.
In a fury, Michael came at Luc again, this time with only murder on his mind. He was going to kill Luc. This was his only chance. Michael leaped onto Luc, knocking them both, and the chair to the floor. Michael stabbed the blade at Luc, over and over, making contact with his chest, arms, and even slicing his face, over and over, he continued his frenzied assault.
Luc did his best to fight back, to at least injure Michael enough to buy himself some time to get to the box. His jacket was so close. If he could just reach it, before Michael could make contact with his heart.
Millimeters from Luc's heart, Michael jabbed the dagger into Luc's chest again, piercing his lung. The metal bit into him like molten lava. The burning sucked any oxygen he had out. He reached with one hand for the jacket, and held Michael back with the other. But he was growing weaker. Again, Michael was going to win. Luc wasn't strong enough.
Michael raised the dagger over his head and smiled. "I've waited so long for this. I'm almost sorry it's about to be over. I have to know one thing though."
Luc just stared at him, not sure if he could even talk at that point.
"Why didn't you bring something that could kill me? You have to know that stupid blade you called up can only wound me. You've had all this time to prepare, and yet, you weren't even close to ready for this battle."
Maybe it wasn't his best choice, but Luc stood by his decision not to kill his brother. Even though Michael had no such reservations, and Luc was about to die, he would let that task be on Michael's head, not his own. He would go to his eternal sleep with a clear conscience.
Michael shrugged. "Oh well. I guess it doesn't matter."
Luc closed his eyes, readied for death, when a flash of light burned his lids, and he heard his name yelled out. Both Luc and Michael turned at the same time, just as Uriel placed the box into Luc's hand.
"You can't be—" Michael started to say just as Luc pressed the box into his bleeding chest to activate it with Luc's blood. It erupted into blinding light, too powerful for Luc to even hold onto for long. With his last shred of strength, he thrust it at Michael, before the whole world went black.
11
The bright sunlight that shone through the window was too harsh. Luc squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. He wasn't sure where he was, because it certainly wasn't his own bed. He would never have allowed that kind of light to be in his face in the morning. He tried to move, but everything hurt. It felt like he'd been hit by a truck. Then backed over by it, then thrown off a cliff, after being set on fire. Also, doused in salt, covered by stones after hitting the bottom, and finally run through a cheese grater.
Basically, he was in agony.
He was pretty sure he was alive, because death couldn't be that painful. Not the kind of death an angel had when killed with the forever blade. The fact that he was still able to think, clued him in on the fact that he wasn't dead, but it took him a few minutes to process it. Bits and pieces came back in waves. He remembered Michael showing up and he remembered the fight. He was alone, and Michael was winning, again.
But then he wasn't alone.
Uriel was there.
And so was his father.
Luc used every ounce of strength he had left and pushed himself up on his arms to look at the grave faces frowning down at him.
"What's going on?" His voice came out in a croak, the dryness of his throat preventing anything further. Uriel handed him a glass of water and helped him drink down half of it. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and frowned. He had to look as bad as he felt.
"How do you feel?" his father asked him, with that same grave frown that Uriel had.
"Like I died."
"You did." His father turned his head away. "I brought you back."
The words echoed in Luc's head at a deafening level.
"Why?" It was all he could think and the word just fell out of his mouth.
His father snapped his head around to stare at him. Luc couldn't tell if he was angry, or hurt. Maybe it was both.
"You're my son and I love you."
Luc wanted to say something snarky, or sarcastic, but he didn't have it in him. He was glad to be alive, even if it hurt this much. Even if he owed his life to his father.
"Father says your injuries will heal soon. It took a lot to bring you back." Uriel tried to force a smile, but it wasn't believable.
"Michael?" Luc grabbed Uriel's hand. He didn't care what happened to him if Michael succeeded and found a way to get the tablet.
"He's in the box. You don't remember?"
He didn't. Not really. He remembered Uriel thrusting the box into his hand, then he remembered a blinding light. He thought that was his death and maybe it was. But maybe it was Michael being sucked into the box. Maybe it was both things simultaneously. None of it mattered. He was currently alive and Michael was trapped in the box where he couldn't hurt anyone.
Luc closed his eyes. He could finally have peace.
"Where are Gabe and Az?" He opened his eyes again and Uriel burst into tears, then ran from the room.
That couldn't be good.
Luc looked at his father who was staring out the window in silence.
"Dad?" Luc propped himself higher and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He attempted to stand and fell flat on his face. Immediately, he tasted the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, and he swiped at his bottom lip with the back of his hand.
"What are you doing?" His father was to him in an instant, lifting him off the floor, and returning him to the bed. "You need to rest. It was a lot of work to bring you back. I don't have the strength to do it a second time." He handed Luc a wad of tissues to stop the flow of blood from his mouth.
"Tell me where Gabe and Az are."
His father sat on the edge of the bed and looked down. He took a deep breath, then met Luc's eyes. "Michael killed them both before he got to you. He stabbed the forever blade through their hearts. Gabriel never saw it coming. Azrael put up a fight.
"
The words were making no sense. Luc had been killed by the same blade. He was here, so why weren't his brothers. This was God they were talking about. If he brought Luc back, why not his brothers?
"Bring them back." Luc tried to fight off the blanket his father had tucked over him. "And let me up."
"So you can fall on the floor again? You're too weak, Lucifer. You need to stay in bed." His father sighed, a deep, soul crushing sigh. "I'm trying to bring Gabriel back. It takes a lot of energy to bring back an archangel, son. It was nearly all I had to bring you back. That dagger was called the forever blade for a reason."
"So bring Az back. He's only a baby archangel, hardly a real one at all. It should be easier." Luc struggled, but his father held him there.
"It won't be easier. Azrael might be much younger, and seem less than your original siblings, but he isn't. My power isn't unlimited, as much as you might think it is."
"I don't care. Let Gabe stay dead then. I need Az back." Tears welled in Luc's eyes. "You owe me this much. All of this is your fault."
And it was. The animosity between Michael and Luc, the fact that Luc had the tablet to begin with, and their father's refusal to stop things from getting to where they did, all of it, was his fault.
"I haven't asked you for much, ever, and even when I have, you've always had strings attached, strings that make coming to you usually not worth it. But this time, I need you to help. I need you to bring Azrael back."
"I can't, son."
"You created an entire universe. You were able to make angels, humans, animals, and everything in between. Why the hell can you not bring one more angel back?"
"Because that blade was meant to be a forever death. I designed it that way, not to be bypassed. In order to bring you back, I lost something permanently, something that will likely prevent me from making more creations in the future."
"Fuck creating things. Just bring Az back!"
"Lucifer, if I could do it, I would. I'm not even sure if I can get Gabe back."
"You shouldn't have saved me then. You should have brought Az back first." Luc struggled, tried to fight his father off, but it was no use. The old man was right. He was too weak.
His father put his hand on the side of Luc's face. There were tears in the older man's eyes as well. Then he shook his head, touched Luc's forehead, and everything went dark.
"I can't believe you insisted on coming back here already, or at all." Uriel scrunched her nose up and looked around the apartment. The place was trashed. Broken furniture, burn marks on the walls, blood stains. His bed was gone completely. The reminder that Gabriel had died in it was no less by it not being there. At least the couch was somewhat intact, but of course, his favorite chair was in a splintered mess on the floor.
Uriel raised her hand to, what Luc assumed, was to use her powers to fix the place, but Luc stopped her.
"Don't."
"Why the hell not? This place is a disaster."
"It is and it will be cleaned, but not like that." Luc hobbled over to the couch and slumped into it.
Even he wasn't sure why he'd returned. His father offered for him to stay a while. He hadn't said permanently, though. He still expected Luc to stay in charge of Hell, and of his murderous brother who would forever reside there in the box. It was a big ask and he knew it. At the very least, the old man could have taken control of the box and kept Michael with him. Who knew, maybe one day he could be rehabilitated.
While Az would still be dead.
"Is Harley back?"
"She is. I helped erase the memories from the girl Michael had and we sent her home. I don't think she will ever be the same though. He damaged her for good." Uriel sat down next to Luc. "Is there anything you need?"
"Are you leaving?"
"For a bit yes. I'll be back, though. You can't get rid of me anymore."
She felt bad for him. The pity was clear in her eyes, but Luc couldn't stand to lose another person he cared about, so he would take it. She was the only blood family he had left in his life.
"Any chance there's any bourbon in here?" Luc glanced over at the bar, then realized that's where Az was going when Gabe killed him.
Uriel snapped her fingers and handed him a bottle. If only he hadn't insisted Az act human, then he would have done the same, rather than going down to the bar alone, and he might still be alive. Luc took the bottle, but set it down next to him. He wasn't in the mood for a drink anymore.
"Lucifer," Uriel said and stood up. "Azrael left you a letter. I found it in his pocket when I brought his body back home." She pulled a folded envelope from her pocket and held it out. Luc stared at it for a long moment, unable to touch it. "Okay, well I'll just leave it for you." She placed it on the couch next to him and flashed out of the apartment.
Luc got up and walked to the window. His whole body still hurt, but he welcomed the pain. At least with pain, he knew he was still alive. Besides, he deserved what he got. He was alive and Az was dead. It was his fault. If he'd never let him hang around, never let him be part of this fight, never made him stop using his powers when he was on Earth, he would be fine. He'd be off on some island somewhere, sipping whiskey, and having orgies.
Now he was dead.
Luc glanced back at the letter.
And the bottle of bourbon.
He chose the bourbon.
After making it back to the couch and twisting off the top on the bottle, he drank half of it down. Then he sat there, with the bottle between his thighs, feeling sorry for himself. After a while, he drank the other half, finally feeling a glimpse of intoxication, before Harley walked in and sat down next to him. She picked up the letter and put it on his leg.
"You should read that."
"Why?"
"Because those are his last words to you. He wanted you to read it."
"Did you read it?"
"Of course I did. I'm a god damned demon. You think privacy means shit to me?"
Luc wasn't surprised, or angry. It actually made him feel better to know Harley read it and still thinks he should. She knew him better than anyone, so if she thought he could handle it, then he could.
"Want me to get some guys up here to start cleaning up?" Harley kicked a piece of the old coffee table and glanced around the room.
"I might do it myself."
"Have you looked in a mirror? I think the most you should be moving around is to open the door when the guy comes with your new bed today."
"New bed?"
"I assumed you didn't want to sleep on this broken couch, so I ordered you a new one. The new couch will be here tomorrow, with a coffee table. I found nearly an identical couch, but the old coffee table wass shit, so I picked out something different. You have lousy taste."
Luc didn't care what table she picked out. It didn't matter much anyway. "Thanks."
There was a part of him that wanted to move somewhere else. The idea of living in the place where two of his siblings died, at the hand of his own brother, seemed wrong. But he loved this place. He couldn't let Michael take that from him, too.
"Is the bar open?"
"I reopened it yesterday. I figured you'd want me to."
Luc wasn't even sure how long it had been. A few days? A week? Maybe two? He'd spend the first who knew how many days mostly sleeping back in Heaven. The whole thing was starting to blur. If that was his own mind, or something his father planted the seed for, he wasn't sure, but he was grateful. No one needed vivid details of such horrors.
"Have you spoken with Anna?" Luc had been dreaming about her while he was away, but he hadn't asked anyone about her. Did she know something was wrong? Had anyone bothered to tell her anything, or did she think he was avoiding her?
"I have. She came by while the place was still closed. She's been worried about you."
"But she's okay?" He figured that if Michael had gotten to her, someone would have mentioned it already, but he couldn't be one hundred percent sure until it was confirmed.
&nb
sp; "She's fine. She handed in her article. It made the cover, but they had to use some older photos of you since you couldn't do new ones. She did a great job." Harley pulled out her phone, clicked a few things, then held it out so he could see.
"I'll read it later." Luc shook his head and ran his finger over the letter sitting on his thigh.
"Okay, well I'll leave you in your squalor then. I gotta get back down there. I'm training a new bartender and he's a complete moron."
"Why did you hire him then?"
"He looks pretty and I like tips." She shrugged and headed out the door.
Luc stared at the letter for a long time. It felt warm on his leg, like the paper itself was willing him to touch it. He wasn't ready. He probably never would be. But he picked it up, pulled the letter from the envelope, and unfolded the paper. Luc could make out Az's scent on it and it was almost enough to make him shove it back in the envelope. Instead, he took a deep breath, and read.
To my favorite brother,
*Read in scary ghost voice* If you're reading this I'm dead…
Okay, fine, just read it in a normal voice, because let's face it, I'm probably not around to be a ghost. I know I was always the goofy little brother, who hung around like a pest, but admit it, I've grown on you. I know you're probably wishing I hadn't, because then saying goodbye to me would be easier. But I want you to know something, I would have given my life ten times over to have the time we had together.
I wrote this letter because let's face it, me surviving a battle with Michael is slim, but don't think that for one second, I regret it. I don't. Although, I do hope we won, because if not, then you're dead too, and no one is reading my letter. Okay, no, Harley is probably standing there with her nose in it, but that's okay, because she should know that I loved her too. She was always like the older sister who likes to bully her siblings. I loved that about her.
Assuming we won, and you survived though, I want to tell you a few things. You have to finish the game. I know right here is where you think about putting the letter down and cursing me out loud. Go ahead, I'll wait. Okay, are you done? Good. Now, you have to finish the game and find your true love. It's the only way I'll be at peace. You need to know that you deserve this, Lucifer. You deserve true love more than anyone I've ever known. Also, I already know which sin you're going to pick. Ask Harley when it's over and she can tell you. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you gave up because of me.