Okay, so I have become somewhat obsessed with Lucifer over the past few months and I am very tentatively posting this here to see if it's worth continuing the fic or not. Please let me know what you guys think, I feel like this story has potential, but I don't want to keep writing it if it's not something you want to read.

Leave a review if you like it, remember constructive criticism, not destructive criticism. Feedback is always, always appreciated.

Okay, enjoy!

~O~O~O~

The weapon glinted in Uriel's hand, the shining gold knife sparkling as he turned to point it at Lucifer.

Lucifer gasped as he recognised it. "That's Azrael's Blade. How do you have it?"

Uriel just smirked as a million thoughts- none of them good- began to run through Lucifer's head.

Azrael's blade was her most prized possession. She was a very skilled fighter and would never, ever let the blade out of her sight- not after it had been entrusted to her by their father. Uriel could never have taken the blade from her without her being seriously hurt, incapacitated, or… dead. Lucifer felt a bolt of fear run through him, his heart beating faster as his eyes darted between the dagger in Uriel's hand and the maniacal look in Uriel's eyes.

Azrael had been the only sibling he didn't hate- being the only sister, she had a soft spot in his heart. She was the one who had needed his help when it came to punishment, who had still visited him in Hell quite regularly even after their father had forbidden it, and had been the first person to ever get along with Maze.

"Uriel!" Lucifer barked. "What did you do?"

"I borrowed it off the Angel of Death when she wasn't looking," Uriel replied absentmindedly, his fingers caressing the elegant carving on the handle. The dim light in the abandoned church still managed to make the knife shine as Uriel played with it, reflecting the madness in his eyes.

"You're not planning on taking Mum back to Hell," Lucifer said in realisation. "That weapon will wipe her out of existence entirely. No Heaven. No Hell. Just… gone."

Uriel smiled understandingly, throwing his arms wide. "Finally!" he exclaimed, glancing skywards. "A moment of clarity between us!"

Lucifer lost his smirk. "You've gone completely insane, brother," he whispered.

Uriel snapped back to his cold, calculating self. "I'm doing what needs to be done, and you've run out of time."

And with that, Uriel descended from the stairs.

~O~O~O~

Her head hurt.

It really, really hurt. And the beeping noise that was right up in her left ear was not improving her mood or helping with the pain either. Soft murmurs she could barely hear and coughs nearby gradually added to the noises around her until she worked out she was near people.

A bitterness was in her nostrils and her mouth- she could even feel it on her skin, and the rough texture of whatever she was lying on made her skin itch.

"Hello love," a cheerful voice said from right beside her ear. She startled, her eyes flying wide open. Everything was white. The sheets, the walls, the curtains. Everything.

A blonde woman in a blue outfit stood beside her bed, smiling as she surveyed her.

"Hello," she said cautiously.

"You've been asleep for a while. Do you know where you are?"

She hesitated. "No."

"You're in a hospital, love. You were very hurt in a very bad fall. I just need to check how you are."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Excellent. Can you tell me what your name is, please?"

"Azrael." The name burst forward before she could think.

"Alright, Azrael- that's a very lovely name, by the way- can you tell me what today is, then?"

Azrael paused, then shook her head.

"Do you know your last name, Azrael?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

Azrael glanced down at her hands. "I don't know."

The woman looked concerned but brightened her expression when she realised Azrael was looking at her. "It's okay, love. You don't have to remember everything right away. Head injuries are tough things, but the brain is amazing- it heals incredibly quickly. We'll check in on you tomorrow and see how you're doing then, okay?"

Azrael nodded. "Okay."

"You just sleep it all off then. I'll check in with you later."

The woman swished the curtain behind her and Azrael was again enveloped in white, before it was quickly replaced by black as she fell into a deep sleep.

~O~O~O~

Several days passed. Azrael was repeatedly quizzed by doctors who were astounded by her lack of memory.

On the second day, they tried to get her to do an IQ test, but she fell asleep halfway through, and Monica- the woman who she had spoken to on the first day- shooed them away.

On the third day, she was subjected to a bizarre round of questioning by the police and a social worker as they tried to work out who she was and what she had been doing in the middle of the desert.

On the fourth day, the doctors said that the likelihood of her remembering anything more than her name was incredibly low.

On the fifth day, she met Thomas.

The awkward police officers and the social worker all stood in front of her hospital bed next to a man with blue eyes and white blond hair.

"This is Thomas," the social worker- an imposing woman with jet black hair that was tightly wound into a bun at the top of her head- said crisply. "He will be looking after you for the foreseeable future- or until we work out your case."

"How long could that take?" Azrael asked, glancing between her social worker and Thomas.

"These things take time," Thomas said gently. "But, I promise you that I will take care of you. Because you are such an unusual case, they may even bump it up to a number one priority."

"So you're my… what? Guardian?"

"Close enough." Thomas perched himself on the edge of the hospital bed, quietly observing her.

The teenager with the scarlet red hair and bright green eyes had been an enigma from the very beginning. The media had gone crazy about the girl found half-dead in the middle of the Mojave Desert, only furthered by the mystery surrounding her identity and the fact that she couldn't remember who she was.

As soon as Thomas- a registered foster carer- heard that she needed somewhere to live while her case was being processed and she was discharged, he volunteered right away. He felt like he had been called to do it.

"Okay. I suppose I could have been stuck with someone weirder," Azrael sighed eventually. It was then that he realised that she had been studying him intensely too.

Thomas laughed, and began to explain to her where he lived and what she would be doing once she had settled in. Things like school. Sports. Chores around the house. He was thirty-five and unmarried. He had a dog named Jenny- a two year old beagle who was full of energy and would lick anything she could. He lived on the edge of the city, in the sprawling suburbs. He was an architect. He added that he was Christian, and she could either come to church with him or not- he respected her decision either way.

The social worker and the police officers took the pairs conversation as their cue to leave, Azrael and Thomas chatting and getting to know each other until visiting hours were over and Monica suggested quite briskly that he leave.

~O~O~O~

Please let me know what you think with a review!