paterelohim | IC contact: Sirenspull

O Father.

[A long pause. It stretches on until it seems perhaps those first two words had been uttered by mistake.]

I know you think I don't--

[Whatever Lucifer means to say has his voice shaking even in just a prayer.]

--I know that you hate me.

[He has spent a week pleading with Michael. Screaming at him. Groveling, bargaining, bribing. Nothing ever changes. But God can change it. Lucifer's relationship with Him will change it. It has to. Right now, broken down and cornered and terrified that he is completely alone again, Lucifer has only one option left.]

I propose a truce. I will let your ant farm thrive, if...if you will let Michael go. Tell him that it's all right for him to stop. Tell him he can choose. That's all I ask, Eloh-- Father. I'll halt the Apocalypse, I'll never look twice at your apes again.

Edited 2012-02-03 06:34 (UTC)

[It hits Chuck so intensely, so suddenly that He can't stop it, He can't stop Himself from half-collapsing, bowing low over the side of the couch and gritting his teeth against a cry threatening to escape his lips. This is it- this is the big one, the big thing He's always been waiting for.

It's so strong that He can't prevent an answer that pulses out like a radio wave, more of a feeling than anything with words.]

I could never hate you. [It feels like intensity, it feels like light and trumpets and the vastness of God's love. Like everything the Shadow creature wasn't.]

[And the response rips open connections that Lucifer has long since sealed off, bitterly daring God to prove him wrong, then cynically ignoring them when He never did.

Until now.

His voice is so overwhelming it brings Lucifer down to his knees, head bowed for the sheer pounding light in it. His wings curl around himself painfully tight. It's Him. It's everything he remembers before the War and he hadn't been prepared for that. Not for any response, and never for love.]

Dad, please--

[Let Michael go. Tell me this is real.

There are a lot of things Lucifer doesn't articulate but they swirl in a haze of desperation through his mind.]

[He doesn't know what to do. This isn't something He can hang up on and walk away from- but oh, He can't just stop and throw away everything and ruin His ability to do any good here.

Fine. Time for one last act of God before fading back into himself.

In front of Lucifer, wherever he is, the nearest bit of vegetation - a patch of scruffy weeds growing between two concrete slabs - bursts into flame that does not burn. The light, for Lucifer, will hurt to look at.]

[Lucifer hisses at the sudden, searing agony. But he makes himself look because he had never been afraid to look into His face. He had done so adoringly then; now he does it out of sheer stubborn will, in spite of the way it makes Nick's eyes water.

He had always wondered what it would be like to look upon Him again. Somehow, in all his daydreams, he'd never really considered that he might not be able to look for more than a few seconds at a time.]

Will you tell him? Do we have an agreement?

[The fire goes out abruptly. That's not how He's doing things. There is no agreement- but the fire itself is a show of good faith. He will do something and Lucifer will know when he finds it, but it may not be where he first thinks to look.

About an hour later, Lucifer gets a call - a prayer of sorts - from Chuck.]

Uh, dude? Lucifer?

[Usually, a prayer to Lucifer gets a prompt response, along with gentle mocking or teasing. Today there's a good two hours before Lucifer answers...with the NV.]

What?

[There's so little inflection in that one word it's almost hard to tell that it's Lucifer. He sounds...sick.]

[All the hesitation. And... some worry, yes.]

Uh- um. Why... did I find a giant-ass sparking feather on my kitchen table this morning? My whole apartment smells like lightning.

[If Lucifer bothers to look at or go near the HoA, he'll find a gouge - a single slice - through one of the Enochian sigils wrapping the place, right over the front door. Since the sigils are carved into the steel beams of the house, Chuck couldn't have done it himself. He wouldn't have.]

You should ask an angel who can actually get in to see your kitchen, Chuck.

[It's a peevish answer said, again, without any feeling behind it. But Lucifer does go to investigate, because that's just strange. That, and since the other Lucifer has arrived it might be his handiwork.]

It's just... really weird.

[He says it with the distinct tone of someone who thinks "weird" doesn't even begin to cover it.

The thing about the slash through the sigil is that it breaks the protections completely. Lucifer can get in- to anywhere (except Erik's office).]

[He cautiously appears in the kitchen. He's still convinced this is the other Lucifer's work; who else has reason to take off the warding against him?]

Where did the feather go?

[Chuck reacts appropriately by... falling over a little and staring openly.]

Dude. How the- [Then he just accepts it, with a visible little hint of a lineface. Fucking Erik, man, clearly messing with the sigils.] It's- it's um, it's in that drawer.

[A largely empty drawer right behind Lucifer, containing a whisk and a few spatulas, but mostly just the feather. It's a decent foot long and light seems to fall into it.]

It kinda gives me a headache if I look at it for too long.

[Lucifer flatly ignores him (this? has been the worst week of his life, and that's including Hell. He doesn't have any barbs or quips in him). He just goes to the drawer and mechanically opens it, fully expecting to see the other Lucifer's pristine white feather.]

[Instead he sees a feather made half out of shadow and lightning, that looks deep and bigger than itself. It could almost belong to any angel of their world- the angels with lightning wings and shadow. Chuck moves around to the edge of the counter so he can peek in the drawer nosily.]

It keeps giving me those little static shocks when I pick it up.

[Not Lucifer, though.]

[He picks it up with the expectation that it will hurt, even a little. Even contact with Michael hurts. But the moment he touches it he knows it's from his worls; it has nothing to do with his duplicate, and Michael and Gabriel and Castiel could not have done this.]

I don't...know what this is, Chuck....

[A tiny hint of wonder in his voice, and that's such a rare thing these days when he feels he's seen it all.]

[The strange note in his voice makes Chuck glance up, then look again, stepping closer.]

Hey, man- Lucifer. Are you okay?

When did this happen?

[He can't stop looking at it, turning it over and over in his hands.

Maybe, maybe, this is a sign that God will help him after all. That God will tell Michael to stop.]

I don't know, a few hours ago, I guess? Lucifer, what's wrong?

Nothing. [So soft it's almost a whisper. But Lucifer is smiling, and he needs to lean on the counter to keep himself on his feet.

This is it. He's finally going to hear Michael say 'yes'. It's finally going to be over--just the two of them, stacking their lives together.]

Do you have any wine? [Something to celebrate with. He needs that right now. God knows he needs it.]

No.

Lucifer, you're acting really weird. What happened?

What do you mean 'no'? You work at a bar and you're a writer.

[He finally turns to look at Chuck, head tilted curiously.]

When do you ever think I'm acting anything but 'weird', anyway?

I drink vodka. You're not acting like yourself.

Is that a bad thing? [The faintest traces of cynicism, finally.]

It's kind of alarming. [Not rising to your self-deprecating bait.]

That's because you don't know me as well as you think you do. How did you expect me to react to a week like this?

[PRAYER] Forward dated to the Groundhog Day event, February 5th

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