paterelohim | IC contact: Sirenspull

[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?

A week like what? Groundhog Day in hell-Canada? I wouldn't expect you to care that much unless it threatened to mess with the Core ever getting fixed.

No, a week like-- yes, like hell. Do you know how many repeat days I had down there?

[which is a good excuse for how rattled the Devil is, but it's not the real reason. He looks at Chuck hopelessly for a moment, then reaches out to touch him.]

You won't understand if I just tell you.

[About Michael. About how very, very close Lucifer is to truly losing what sanity, what hope he has left.]

[For once in his life, Chuck doesn't move away from the touch. He doesn't blink, or look away.]

Can you try?

[He shakes his head, because human language is limited and every time he's tried to express anything about Michael it gets thrown back in his face. He can't handle that right now. He can't.

So he touches Chuck's forehead because he has no other way to express what's happened. Every fight. Every desperate attempt to salvage their relationship, every failure.

All of it drowned with terror and horror and silent pleading that Lucifer himself can't stop. He is almost leaning on Chuck when the images stop, which is good because his words would be inaudible otherwise.]

I can't do this anymore.

Edited 2012-02-03 20:49 (UTC)

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