Chapter Text
"THAT'S ENOUGH!"
A solemn voice bellowed throughout the precinct, interrupting the angels. Their fists, which had been flying purposely through the air, suddenly froze. All three looked up at the ceiling. Then, their eyes shifted as they noticed the white-clad figure who was walking down the stairs toward them. Involuntarily, they all took in a sharp breath.
"Dad?" Lucifer muttered in astonishment.
He was wearing an airy, white robe, tied around his waist with a silver sash. Puffy bags protruded below scowling, narrowed eyes, showing signs of strain. Yet, from below his heavy eyelids, a pair of piercing blue irises peered out with alert, all-knowing perceptivity. His long, but neatly trimmed, white beard was speckled with a few hints of gray, scattered under his nose and down the middle of his chin. He stopped in the middle of the staircase and looked down at them with unmistakable contempt.
"What do you boys think you are doing!?" he shouted.
No one answered. They stared back at him, frozen, their wings continuing to bounce up and down as they panted from exertion.
"Look at all this!" He motioned to the shattered glass, a desk in splinters, a demon dagger sticking out of the wall inches from a frozen police officer's head.
At once, all three angels pulled in their wings. Amenadiel opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. Then, Michael quickly dropped to one knee.
"I am truly sorry, Father! I didn't mean to cause such chaos, but they were attacking me! Look what Lucifer did to my face!"
"Oh, of course!" Lucifer moaned, snapping out of his trance. "Blame me, like you always do!" He turned to his father. "Michael has been manipulating Amenadiel with fear! He tried to impersonate me! He tried to turn my friends against me, he kidnapped the woman that I…"
Amenadiel and Michael looked at Lucifer curiously for a second, but God waved his hand with impatience. "I said ENOUGH!' I didn't come here to listen to your excuses."
There was a long pause. The angels seemed ready for their father to continue, but he remained silent. Finally, Lucifer ventured a question. "Why did you come here, Father?"
"Well, you boys didn't leave me much choice, did you? With all this… business." He motioned again at the chaotic scene. Then he looked thoughtful, as if something had occurred to him. "While I'm here though, I'd like to speak with Ella Lopez. Samael, where is she?"
At the sound of his old name, Lucifer tensed. But his father's request seemed to pique his interest.
"You want to talk to Ella?" Lucifer asked. "So, you're saying you came all the way here to chat with one little human?"
"That's not what I said, Samael. Where is she?"
"She's in the lab."
God looked at Lucifer, expectantly.
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Right. Of course. Right this way, Dad."
God followed Lucifer. They found Ella standing, holding a file, mid-step walking across the room. Her frozen face wore a look of worry and sadness. God looked at her, and tenderly put a hand on her chest. He closed his eyes. For a brief moment, the corners of his eyes tightened, as if he were concentrating. A dim white light started to glow in Ella's chest around the shape of his outstretched hand. Lucifer looked on, unable to hide his curiosity. But then, as quickly as he put it there, God abruptly pulled his hand away.
"Alright. It's time to go," he said, opening his eyes and turning back to Lucifer.
Lucifer smiled with disdain. "Uh hu. Okay, great. Great, visit Dad. Really great." He threw his hands up in the air. "You walk into my life after a few thousand years of manipulating me from afar, just to chastise me for being attacked by my brother, and then you immediately leave again. Yep," he said. "Sounds about right."
"No. We're all going." He quickly turned and marched out of the lab. Lucifer scrambled to follow him. Outside, God found Amenadiel and Michael still standing at the foot of the stairs.
"Come on, boys," God said, marching upward, not bothering to look back at them as he spoke. "Everybody, upstairs."
The angels remained unmoving, seemingly unsure of what to do.
"When you say 'upstairs'," Amenadiel asked, "Do you mean the actual stairs, or…?"
"No. We're going to heaven. You too, Samael."
Lucifer looked on, incredulous. "Are you mocking me, Father?"
"No," he replied, continuing up the stairs.
"Perhaps you have forgotten your little decree?" Lucifer said, indignation seeping into his voice. "The one that says I am permanently banned from heaven? And if I so much as try to enter I will be burned to a crisp?"
God shrugged. "Actually, Samael," he said, finally pausing on the stairs and turning to look at him. "You could have come to heaven at any time."
Lucifer stared up at his father. For a few seconds, he was unable to speak. Amenadiel and Michael both unconsciously glanced at Lucifer.
Lucifer's words came out slowly, sharply. "You lied?"
"No," God said calmly. "That business was a rumor. Started by your siblings, I suspect. I just didn't bother to clear it up." And then, for the first time, a slight, knowing smile crept into his eyes. "You of all people should understand that, Samael."
There was a tense pause. Lucifer's eyes flashed red. "If you think…" he said in a low growl, "that I would ever go anywhere with you, then you truly don't know anything about me."
God turned back toward the top of the stairs. "Your choice, as always," he said with disinterest, resuming his walk upward. "But if you don't come, you will regret it."
Lucifer couldn't help a look of concern. "Is that a threat!?" he shouted angrily up at his father.
"No. Just a fact," God said, turning the corner.
Lucifer stared up as his father disappeared.
After taking an instant to recover, Michael and Amenadiel quickly ran up the stairs after him.
Lucifer stood for a moment, alone and in silence.
His anger, of course, was palpable. But there was something else too. It had been thousands of years since he had heard his father's voice. Hundreds of thousands of years since Father had actually deigned to physically appear before him. It had been since… since his fall. So, why now? What did he want with him?
Slowly, he began to drag his feet up the precinct steps.