Author's Note: Probably assumed I was dead, right? Nope. Gave it a good shot though. I realize my last note said "next chapter shouldn't take me that long" and it's now been longer than I care to think about or check. But apparently the Cosmos took it as a personal challenge, and it and its buddy karma decided to bitch slap the hell out of me. I didn't think this was EVER going to get done (there was even a few weeks there where I wondered if I was going to be alive t do it). But FINALLY IT'S DONE - this chapter anyway. And since you've waited long enough, I will delay no more - ONWARDS!

The new arrival, presumably Ragiel, straightened, fluffing his jet black wings out with a snap like a deployed parachute before they disappeared.

"After watching you with Amenadiel, forgive me if I wasn't eager to come and see you," Ragiel said dismissively.

Samael sneered, though the disdain seemed forced. "Since there was no Heavenly wrath, I'll assume dear old Dad approves of my harsh parenting tactics. Or, if He doesn't, He doesn't disapprove enough to step in and stop me. So then what are you doing here?"

Ragiel huffed, looking all the world like a put upon older sibling asked to discipline his brother. "You and I both know, the rest of us don't have 'options'," he said, making air quotes around the last word. "Dad says jump and we don't even get to ask how high." He shot Samael a scathing glare. "Thanks for ruining it for the rest of us."

"Me?" Samael bristled, pulling himself up with the help of the railing.

He staggered slightly, and Chloe could see the momentary frown on Ragiel's face. Maybe he wasn't aware of what was happening? She couldn't ever remember even hearing the name Ragiel – not in church and not when she was originally looking into Lucifer's past, but from the way Luci-Samael was talking to him, he seemed sort of like an unwilling errand boy. Chloe could only assume another brother, but probably not an archangel considering the dark wings and the fact that he looked absolutely nothing like any of the angels she'd seen thus far. She remembered Samael's comment about being brother brothers and how less alike their siblings looked. If she had to guess though, he reminded her a bit of Azrael and wondered if the newcomer was a 'free agent' like their sister. Though apparently. 'free' was debatable.

"Why is this my fault? You and the others are so quick to tout God's Big Picture Plan, what makes you think I wasn't an unwilling part in it? Maybe He knew what I would do and just used me as an excuse not to give the rest of you Choice." Samael spread his wings out behind him in emphasis. "Maybe this is what He intended all along."

This time Ragiel definitely frowned, and for a moment, Chloe thought it was because he was considering Samael's accusation, but then she noticed where he was actually looking.

Samael's wings, spread wide behind him, were now noticeably darker. Less than 10 minutes ago, the inky blackness had barely stained the edges of his primary feathers. Now it was halfway up his primary and secondary coverts.

Chloe didn't really know what the darkening of the feathers meant, other than something 'not good' given how Amenadiel made it sound like an insult. But judging by the look on Ragiel's face, it wasn't just a cosmetic issue.

"Samael, you need to come back to the Silver City," Ragiel said, taking a step forwards.

Definitely not just a cosmetic issue. That was the tone negotiators used on hostage takers and people on the edge of a bridge. Whatever the darkness meant, Samael's brother was more than worried about it.

Samael's grip tightened on the railing, splintering the reinforced glass. "And why on Earth should I do that? So when Dad kicks me out again, I have further to Fall? So I can wind up in a cage like the rest of His mistakes? No, thank you."

Ragiel took another step forwards, his hand out. "Samael, I can't fix this. I can't fix you. If you want to live, you have to come home with me now because the only one I can think of to ask is Father."

Samael's eyes flashed angrily, the matte black reflecting fire. "I'm not broken," he snarled. "And I'm not being dragged to His feet like some errant child asking for a band aid."

"I don't care," Ragiel spat with equal venom. "I'm not taking the blame for your idiotic selfishness. And if you don't come willingly, I will make you."

Samael full on laughed at that, sounding less than sane. Actually, he sounded disturbingly like Archimedes the Highly Educated Owl. He leaned back against the railing. "Really, little brother? You're going to drag me home? All by yourself?"

Ragiel bristled at that, his wings fluffing out behind him like an angry bird. "Don't be stupid. I'm not about to go against Samael the Destroyer alone."

With that, Ragiel put his fingers to his lips and blew one sharp, loud whistle that made Chloe duck her head and cover her ears. It was more than just loud – she felt it like she could feel a rumble of thunder, or the tang of lightning in the air in the middle of a storm.

Like the one that was starting to form above their heads that she hadn't really been paying attention to until now.

Angel fights trumped the weather on the level of importance, as far as she was concerned.

The now familiar gust of wind heralding the arrival of angels blew her hair into her face, and in the blink of an eye, Gabriel and Michael were standing on either side of Ragiel, luminous white wings spread out behind them.

Gabriel looked like he would rather be anywhere but there, but as soon as he saw Samael, his jaw dropped in horror.

"Sammy – dude, you gotta come home," Gabriel pleaded, taking a step towards his wayward sibling. "Now."

Samael snarled, lips pulling back into a feral sneer, revealing less than human teeth as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"Stop. Telling me. What. To do."

The black on the wings edged slightly further up.

"Gabriel – " she tried, except her voice was decidedly more like a whisper, dry and paper thin, lost in the steadily growing wind. She wondered if the change in the weather was Samael's doing. If he could do all that Gabriel said – or even he admitted to – altering the weather to suit his mood didn't seem that much of a stretch.

Michael stepped in. "Put your vanity aside for one moment, brother. We are not telling you anything except to save your own skin. Just look at yourself – look at your wings. We are not asking you to return home as a command from our Father, we are asking so that you stop killing yourself."

Chloe didn't particularly care to know the hows and wherefores of what exactly Michael meant, but she could make some wild guesses with her limited knowledge of magic and angels. If Delilah had bound Lucifer's heart – literally – she could imagine no creature could live like that for long. Maybe the black on the wings was the equivalent of gangrene, or spreading poison. All she could tell was that it wasn't good, and it was spreading faster the more the brothers argued – like the more determined Samael was to tell them to fuck off, the more the toxin set in.

She didn't know if that meant that Lucifer would die and all that would be left is the alternate personality of Samael, or if something else was taking their place. Samael didn't seem heartless, he seemed…dismissive. Cruel perhaps, but not unjust. And all she could think of was Lucifer's own opinion of his prior self – that he was a monster. If everything with him was literal, not some colorful metaphor…

"The only way I'm going home is if you make me, dear brothers. And as I recall, you alone weren't enough to do the job," Samael hissed, gesturing pointedly to the vivid scar across Michael's face. "And I don't care if this is my final stand. I make it as myself, and not someone's puppet. In other words –" he stood up straight, splaying his arms and wings out to either side as he smirked. "Come at me, bros."

You little shit…

Michael collided with Samael like a linebacker, slamming into him so forcefully the glass of the balcony shattered. Instead of bracing for the impact though, Samael did the opposite – he bent over backwards, going with the force of Michael's attack, right over the side of the building.

Away from Chloe, and away from his other siblings, and right for the busy streets of downtown LA.

Samael and Michael twisted through the air, exchanging blows as they fought for control of the fall and the upper hand.

Michael's fist collided with Samael's jaw, snapping his head back as Samael twisted in midair, tucking a wing and spinning them dizzyingly in a tight circle, forcing Michael's back to the ground as they slammed into it.

The concrete gave way like sand beneath them, cratering a hole several feet deep as the rubble and dust exploded outwards.

People screamed, running in every direction without any clear sense of what was happening or what they were seeing – because what they were seeing was impossible.

Cars honked and swerved, brakes screeching in protest as people slammed them to the floor, trying to avoid the massive crater and the fleeing people, not always successful.

One car swerved miss a fleeing woman and her husband, the former clutching at a bloodied forehead from the debris while the latter stumbled in the haze of shock, slamming into a telephone pole. The transformer sparked, a shower of fiery gold raining down on the street and the people before the entire street flickered and went dark, the only light coming from headlights and the arcing sparks of the downed power lines.

"I beat you once before," Michael warned, touching a thumb to his bloodied lip as he shoved Samael off him with a kick to the chest, launching the younger angel high enough into the air that Samael had to use his wings to catch himself, landing several feet away with a slide that carved grooves into the already ruined tarmac. "And that was when you were at full power. Do not push me to do it again."

Samael laughed, his voice undulating between derisive chuckle and the cackle of the Beast. "You had an army behind you, brother. I see no such aid this time."

Michael snarled, and his right hand flicked slightly to the left. In his open hand, a flicker of flame flashed brilliantly, and when it faded, a gleaming broadsword was in his hand, a tongue of flame licking about the blade.

Samael put both hands to his cheeks in a mockery of shock. "Oh no, not the Sword of Michael! Anything but that." He dropped his hands and cocked his head to the side. "You should call it Back Biter given your history with it – you've got more scars from it than I do."

"Lessons," Michael corrected, swinging the sword as he charged towards his brother. "And unlike you, I learn from mine!"

Samael's grin broadened in the dimly lit street, the flickering of the sparking cables and the car engine fire casting macabre shadows across his face, his eyes flashing hellfire red in the darkness.

"Oh, but haven't I?" he hissed. He spun on his heel at the last possible second, sweeping his leg out low and wide to drop almost to the ground as he ducked under the flaming blade, spinning away from the backswing he knew his brother would attempt.

Michael's primary battle strategy was brute force, and for good reason. He was physically larger, stronger, and had the more powerful weapon at his disposal. Samael might mock it, but the Sword of Michael did more than sting when it struck an enemy. It could actually do a lot more, depending on what Michael wanted it to, but suffice to say they'd skipped over the time for pleasantries.

Samael was never going to beat him toe to toe – never had, never would. Especially not now, with half his power constricted in a vice that cinched tighter with every beat of his heart.

But Samael didn't fight traditionally.

Samael fought dirty.

Before Michael could take another swing at him with his damnable sword, Samael vanished with a beat of his wings, instantly to the other side of the street into the throng of onlookers – humans too stupid or unmindful of the danger they were in that had their phones out with cameras rolling. Maybe living in the heart of the film industry dulled their perception of reality, but Samael didn't rightly care what prevented them from running for their lives, because he could sense in them what he sensed in Delilah's followers.

Samael didn't need a sword or a scythe to fight his brother - he needed a weapon he would be unable to or too afraid to strike against.

Samael put his hand out to the nearest human, his eyes flashing hellfire red once more and whispered in his ear, "show me what you desire."

The man stiffened under his fingers, but instead of flinching from the roiling black sickness of desire, he sucked in a breath like a man long starved of fresh air, even as the darkness rolled over him like a shadow on his soul that stained his very skin, his eyes blackening to mirror Samael's own.

People who saw darkness and were fueled by it instead of repulsed were his weapon of choice.

The man turned, throwing a wide haymaker punch at the man nearest to him, and where his fist collided, the black poison spread to the other's skin – as people tried to pull him off the other man, as their skin brushed against his the darkness spread…again, and again and again, like a wildfire fueling itself on their own morbid desires to see violence and bloodshed.

Even if it was their own.

Or Michael's.

LA was a crowded city – even at this hour, even despite the carnage suddenly erupting in the streets, and more importantly, the ones remaining were Samael's dominion.

Dark, forbidden want. Thirst and need. Whipped into a frenzy by the display of violence and the promise of more if only they would just give in, and even Michael's presence would have no effect on them as they turned on each other – and the current object of Samael's rage: his own brother.

And the beauty of it all?

Michael couldn't harm a hair on their twisted heads.

The Law was the Law, and Michael was nothing if not beholden to his own dominion of justice and order.

Rearing back from the sudden onslaught of humans - biting, kicking, clawing at each other as much as they reached for him – Michael was forced to retreat away from Samael as the flood parted around him like an island in a river, unable to do more than block or shy away from the human attacks.

"Guess it's time for you to decide which Law you're willing to bend, hmm, Saint Michael?" Samael shouted over the chaos. "Save your Father's favorite Son? Or protect His favorite toys?"

"Neither!" someone shouted, and a split second later, a heavy force slammed into Samael, plowing them both into the earth once more, except unlike Michael, Ragiel didn't let up when they hit the ground.

Samael wasn't a petulant little brother needing saving to the younger angel – he had no need for restraint. Ragiel slammed his fists into any available patch of Samael he could reach, blocking Samael's wing strike with his own as he pinned his older sibling to the ground, trapping one of Samael's smoldering wings beneath them as he pinned him on either side with his legs.

"I don't care what Dad says!" Ragiel roared, delivering a staggering blow to the side of Samael's head, splitting the skin across his temple. "Because of you, we don't get a choice!"

Blood smeared across Samael's bruised features, which were looking less human by the moment.

"I hate you!"

Samael thrashed sideways, bringing his knee up to slam into his brother's back just below where his winds connected, unbalancing him enough that when Samael pushed with his trapped wing against the ground, he managed to flip them both, smashing the blade side of his hand against Ragiel's exposed throat.

"Hate me all you want, Little Brother, but I'm the reason you even know what Choice is!"

Samael wrapped his hands around Ragiel's neck, fully intent on choking the very life out of him except Ragiel wasn't ready to die – he brought his hands up between Samael's arms, breaking the chokehold as he reared up and slammed the crown of his head under Samael's chin, rocketing them both backwards once more, exchanging blows and they continued to roll across ground.

Samael brought one of his wings up just in time to block Ragiel's jet black ones with a crack, and his younger brother sneered, "You and I will be a matching set in no time, Sammy."

The black of Delilah's curse was now almost completely engulfing the incandescent white of the archangel's wings, eating away at them as surely as it ate away at his heart, almost matching the light absorbing darkness of Ragiel's.

"You're a cheap imitation," Samael growled, and with a blinding flash of light, forced a wave of energy up and out, hitting Ragiel square in the chest like a semi-truck, hurling the younger angel away from him and into the side of an abandoned vehicle with enough force he crushed the engine block, skidding into the parked car next to them in a pile up of broken glass and twisted metal.

Samael pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly on legs that didn't see too eager to support his weight anymore. He touched the back of his hand to his nose, which was bleeding freely now, though he wasn't sure if the blood he tasted on his teeth was from that or inside his cheek. Probably both. He swayed drunkenly, putting a hand out to balance himself even as he doubled over, fighting to breathe normally. He could feel that cursed woman's Binding cinching the proverbial noose and he almost laughed out loud at the irony – of God's Poison being done in by poisoned words.

Oh, cosmic poetic symmetry.

His wings were almost as black as Ragiel's now, except instead of his brother's inky black of night sky, his looked sickly and rotted, like necrotizing skin dying off from underlying infection. There was a brief moment of considering cutting them off once more, but dismissed as easily as it came. He may be dying, but he was dying whole.

He cast his gaze homeward, glaring balefully at the gathering storm that had yet to break, the thick black clouds looming ominously overhead as the tang of electricity mingled with the taste of blood in his mouth. "If You're going to do something, now would be the time," he growled. "Because if You don't, I'll gladly go to my death with everyone thinking You wanted this." He gestured widely to the wanton destruction around him – his own private apocalypse.

The Silver City remained silent.

Then so be it.

Chloe grabbed Gabriel's arm before he could join the melee down below, latching onto his sleeve with a vice like grip. "Seriously? You think the best course of action is to fight him? He just wiped the floor with three of you!"

Gabriel didn't look convinced, but also like he didn't know what else he could do. "Samael or Lucifer aren't big on self-preservation, Chloe. The more energy he expends, the faster Delilah's magic spreads, the harder it is to break. If he can't…or won't…help himself, then we have to get him to the Silver City because I don't know anyone else that can stop this."

Chloe's breath caught. "What did you just say?"

Michael must've had more tricks up his sleeve than Samael gave him credit for, because somehow he managed to evade the angry mob – maybe he called in a favor with Dad.

Samael was too busy fighting with Ragiel to notice his return until Michael's arm snaked around his neck in a chokehold, his other hand grabbing and holding onto Samael's right arm that he was about to slam into Ragiel's face.

"Come quietly, brother, and nobody has to die here today," Michael snarled in his ear as he pinned his younger brother to chest.

"Bite me," Samael snapped back, twisting fast and hard to spin both of them around, dropping one shoulder as he hefted his wing up underneath Michael's arm to break his hold and throw him several feet to the side. Michael landed easily on his feet, bracing himself with his wings even as Samael staggered from the effort.

It was a temporary victory and the three of them knew it – Samael was flagging, and the blood from his injuries was no longer red – it was tainted oily black. Spider webbed veins of poison spread, mottling already bruised skin as it raced towards his heart.

But dying wasn't dead, and Samael would be twice damned before he went peaceably with his brothers to beg for his Father to spare him.

With his back turned to him, Ragiel took the opening and surged forwards, slamming bodily into Samael and knocking them both sideways as Michael charged from the other side. There was a brief scuffle, but combined, Ragiel and Michael managed to pin Samael to the ground, arms and wings splayed out on either side, his brother's feet pinning his blackened wings outstretched so he couldn't use them to knock them away or push himself up, their arms pinning his while Michael's hand pressed against his chest, just over the livid scar from Delilah's curse.

"Enough, brother!" Michael demanded. "It is over!"

Samael spat a glob of mixed red and black blood at his brother's face, narrowly missing.

"It is never enough!" Samael growled. "Besides – you haven't won anything – this is just a stalemate. Either you let me die and face Father's wrath, or you kill me yourselves. I am not going back to the Silver City."

"The Silver City isn't the only place we can take you," Ragiel snarled. "We just have to take you some place where the spread of curse is limited…where moment can last an eternity."

Samael's bloodied, smug grin flickered. "What?"

"If you're so adamant about not asking for Father's help, so be it. The Pit was an adequate enough cage for you for centuries. It can hold you until you see reason," Ragiel sneered, leaning closer. "And I have a sneaky suspicion that might be a while, Sammy."

Samael's face faltered, matte black eyes flashing momentarily brown as they flicked to meet Michael's pale gray. "You wouldn't…"

"Samael, I can offer you no help if you will not help yourself – if my options for you are prison or death, you must know which one I would choose," Michael said quietly. "You cannot ask me to watch you die."

"You ask of something worse," Samael growled, and bucked against their grip – folding in his wings so abruptly he staggered them both, and twisting violently beneath their hands, almost managed to break free, wrenching his right arm out from underneath Ragiel to throw a devastating punch at Michael's throat.

Except Ragiel came prepared. Even as he lurched under the abrupt movement, he slipped a loop of chain around Samael's wrist, yanking it back before he could deliver the blow.

Being the Angel of Mysteries as well as Samael's replacement had its perks – he could conjure anything he needed when he needed it most.

Samael's arm audibly popped, but it barely slowed him down as he whirled on his younger brother. But rage aside, Samael was fading fast. The tendrils of darkness raced towards his heart with visible progress now, his power diminishing with every beat of his slowly dying heart. Ragiel easily caught his fist as he threw it, tethering his other arm as well.

Samael roared in anger, frustration and pain, and as much as Ragiel didn't like his older brother, it still pained him to see him in so much anguish that wasn't entirely his own doing. But as much as he worried for Samael, he worried more for the Earth and her people if Samael died – killed by his own stubbornness or not, a human started this.

Michael took hold of the second chain even as Samael reached for the binding on his other arm, wrenching it back so he couldn't free himself and pulling him to his knees. Samael may be losing ground, but he was not about to yield, still fighting against the chains with everything he had left in him.

"Stop it!" a voice shouted.

The brothers turned in equal stages of surprise to see Gabriel standing several feet away, Chloe at his side, looking thoroughly horrified at what she was seeing, but equally determined.

"You're making it worse!" Chloe yelled. "You're making him worse! The more you treat him like he's just a monster you need to stuff back into a box, the angrier he gets and it looks to me like you're losing this fight."

"We do not need your input, human," Ragiel snapped, throwing the word 'human' as if it were a slur.

"I think you do – because anyone who knows Lucifer knows that trying to make him do something makes him do the opposite!" said Chloe. "You're his family – he wants to fight you as much as you want to fight him!"

Chloe stepped forwards, her heart surprisingly steady.

Samael – Lucifer's – face was twisted in animalistic rage, looking less human as his anger grew. The soft brown eyes were gone, replaced with glittering black and gold. Blunted teeth were traded for almost lupine points that had no business being in a human mouth. His once beautiful, pristine white wings were ragged and black, seared from fire and smoke. They didn't even look feathered anymore so much as reptilian hide.

Not just any reptile, Chloe thought. A dragon.

Maybe that was where the rumor of the serpent in the Garden began.

No matter what face he wore, it was still Lucifer beneath the mask. And that's all this was. A mask.

One of the chains binding him creaked and groaned under the force of Samael's struggles.

"Detective," Michael snarled. "Back away."

Samael's eyes flashed blinding white and glittering gold. "Get away from me, human," he snarled, voice rasping like bone on bone.

Chloe didn't budge. Didn't blink, even as she felt her eyes begin to blur and a stray tear found its way down her cheek. The great, terrible wings that spread out on either side of him rose, straining and pulling at the chains his brothers bound him in.

She could smell brimstone and sulfur, could feel the heat radiating off of him like a furnace. The tangible cold cruelty of unabashed hatred that roiled off of him like smoke.

"You," she said, her voice wavering, and she stopped. She took a breath, and started over. "You are not a monster, Lucifer," she said.

"Lucifer is gone," Samael said, in that same, awful voice. "Only I remain."

Chloe shook her head, partly to convince herself, but just as much to prove to him that she didn't believe that. "No, you're not. You once told me you were given a choice, Lucifer. To stay a monster, to remain a beast, or to turn your back on everything you knew. You are not a monster," she said, trying to keep her voice steady and quiet enough that it remained between her and Lucifer. "You made that choice once, Lucifer-"

"Stop saying that name!" Samael shouted, and yanked his arm hard enough that Ragiel lost several inches of his tether as it slid through his fingers. "Lucifer is no more!"

Chloe dropped to her knees in front of him, wanting so badly to reach out to him but afraid of how he would react. She wasn't in danger from him – Samael already said as much. Only the wicked need fear him, but even his own brothers were acting like he was something dangerous. Something that needed to be destroyed, or contained, or imprisoned.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see what they saw – a weapon. A demon. A monster that deserved to be in a cage.

She saw the blood dripping from his nose and his mouth, the bruising around his eye and the scar on his chin. The burned wings that were once so magnificent.

He wanted her to be afraid of him. He wanted her to look at him the way his own family did. The way humans always had.

The way he did.

"Lucifer and Samael are the same person," Chloe gently reminded. "You don't become a different person just because they changed your name. Your Father let you make a choice – something He never offered to any of the others. I have to believe it's because He knew the choice you would make."

"I was cast out," Samael snarled. But it wasn't anger she heard. It was betrayal. "I was made a freak."

Chloe shook her head, offering him a small smile. Because it was smile or cry, and right now she wanted to do both. "No, Lucifer. Not a freak. Just because you're different, doesn't make you wrong. You didn't let your Father tell you who to be. Don't let Delilah."

"I am as a I was created," Samael snapped, but his voice was losing its edge.

"You are who you choose to be," Chloe said. "Not what others think you are. They do not define you." She leaned in close, and gently cupped her hand to his bruised and bloodied cheek, using her thumb to trace the contour of his face. "No one can take your heart from you, Lucifer. I know who you are."

She smiled gently, and whispered so that only he could hear her.

"Lucifer…what do you desire?"

Samael flinched, hard, jerking backwards as if she'd struck him across the face, which given his reaction on the rooftop wasn't wholly unexpected, but it still made her flinch with him. She hoped against all that she had that this was right, that she hadn't made a horrible error in judgement when she heard Gabriel say that Lucifer could save himself. She'd almost had it on the roof, she was sure of it now – if Ragiel hadn't shown up, she might've convinced Lucifer sooner.

Because Samael and Lucifer reigned over desire.

Including their own.

Just no one had ever asked.

"I want to be me," he croaked slowly, almost questioning, working his mouth as if tasting the words on his tongue for the first time. He shuddered, a ragged scream tearing through him, a rattling breath in his chest that made Chloe's heart skip a beat at the breathlessness of it, as if it could be his last.

But it wasn't.

I want to be me," he croaked slowly, almost questioning, working his mouth as if tasting the words on his tongue for the first time. He shuddered, a ragged scream tearing through him, a rattling breath in his chest that made Chloe's heart skip a beat at the breathlessness of it, as if it could be his last.

But it wasn't.

His eyes flashed between matte black and soft brown, his features softening as he suddenly collapsed forwards, the tension bleeding from his limbs as the chains loosened and melted away, coughing and choking and for one horrible moment all Chloe could think of was that night at Lux – which felt likes years ago – as she caught him in her arms. Except instead of his breaths growing shallower, she could feel him sucking in air like a man long starved of it, and his hands clutched desperately at the back of her shirt, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulders but she didn't care.

The other brothers remained at a distance, silent but watchful.

The rain that had held off for so long finally began to fall. Gently, softly, slowly sinking into her clothes and his as he tried to stifle his screams of pain as he fought Delilah's binding with what little he had left of himself.

She held onto him as tightly as she could, feeling his entire body shake as he almost seemed to shrink into her embrace, the coughing turning to great, shuddering sobs as she felt something finally snap beneath her fingers. She watched the poisonous darkness leech from his wings, dripping off of them like tar to hit the ground with a faint sizzle of acid before evaporating in tiny plumes of smoke and sulfur. The tainted black lines running through his veins retreated like venom extracted from a wound leaving behind pale, untainted skin in their wake and she wanted to cry from relief.

And when he allowed her to tilt his head back to look on his very human face, the eyes that greeted hers were Lucifer's to his very soul.

"You found me," he rasped, his voice a little roughened by emotion she wasn't about to judge him for, but his.

Chloe planted a chaste kiss against his forehead, her thumbs wiping gently at his cheeks. "You weren't that hard to find," she said, smiling fondly at him.

Lucifer let his forehead drop against hers, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Lucifer broke the silence between them first.

"Yes, I was."

Author's Note: I am very aware of the fact that the last three lines have been used in an innumerable amount of books, movies, and TV shows, but I have always loved them, and therefore I have shanghaied them for my own personal use here. Have I mentioned I hate writing fight scenes? Cause I do. And more importantly, I need you guys to know this: I wrote this no less than 26 times. 26 times I was still pissed off at it because it seemed...wrong. There was even a version where Chloe dies - killed trying to save Lucifer and that's what snaps him out of it, but then he went on a rage bender and it just DIDN'T GO WHERE IT SHOULD'VE. I couldn't make the other scenarios all written out to make sense - like there's a solid page and a half of banter between Ragiel and Samael before the fight breaks out and I had to stop and remember Syndrome from "The Incredibles" - 'you got me monologing!' because really...you don't need to know much about him other than he's got some serious pent up issues against his brother. Also trying to fight a realistic fight between three almost omnipotent characters? WHAT WAS I THINKING. Anyway, despite the fact that I made you wait an ungodly length of time for this chapter, I hope you're still reading, and - #savelucifer #pickuplucifer