i am waiting 'til there's nothing left

i'm a prayer, all you see is breath

i am empty, i am skin and bones, i'm a ribcage

The voice of God is not human. It is unlike anything one is able to fathom or dream. The voice is not in English, Spanish, Swahili, what have you. The voice enters through the center of the brain, not the ear, and radiates down the core to the very tip of every toenail. Contrary to popular belief, God is incredibly vocal. The fact of the matter is that very few can understand the dialect.

But Lucifer Morningstar can.

It had been painful but brief when Lucifer had entered the limbo of death. Bittersweet relief had pulsed through him as he trudged toward the gate home, and then panic as the chains of the cell lay victimized on the ground before him. He understood the voice of his father implying what had happened and what was at stake here. He had prayed-he had prayed-for the safety of Chloe Decker, and then his consciousness was once again placed on the ground of that warehouse… presumably to be the guardian angel of his own prayer.

He wished that was the only reason why he had been returned.

However brief, the journey from the mortal world to Limbo to Hell and back was exhausting in every aspect. Lucifer spent days in the comfort of a king sized bed and Amenadiel had stayed on his couch to continue recovery. While sleeping was not required of a supernatural being, Lucifer could easily see how "sloth" had made its way onto the Seven Deadly Sins.

Lucifer pretended like it was much more of an inconvenience than it actually was for his brother to be taking up space on his couch. One opportunity for teamwork was not going to simply outdo the centuries of rivalry. The situation remained awkward as both of them avoided speaking about Mother, but it was going to have to come up again eventually.

Unfortunately, "eventually" came on the first morning Lucifer decided to get out of bed, put on proper attire, and fix himself tea. He had barely put the kettle on when Amenadiel spoke, immediately causing a white-knuckled fist from the Devil.

"Lucifer, we need to find her."

After an eye roll that almost allowed him to view his brain, Lucifer chose an Earl Grey with a light blending of orange flavor. He strained for a witty remark but came up short this time, his silence prompting another "Lucifer" in a bark from the other room.

"Yes, I know. I know. But what's the worst that could happen?" he drawled, swinging an empty tea cup around like dramatic hand gestures would soften the reality. "There haven't been any burning buildings on the news, have there? Any school buses full of children dragged out of a lake?"

The past few days may have been a bit more tolerable had Amenadiel known how to work the television. Lucifer wasn't big on electronics, but he had absolutely had to covet one of man's most brilliant and powerful brainwashing tools once he saw the sparkly price tag. Had Amenadiel witnessed that the newscast was full of only gang violence and racial intolerance as per usual, perhaps he would not have worked himself into a state of constant paranoia dreaming up all of these scenarios of destruction. They were really cluttering up his zen.

"We both know how serious this is," Amenadiel didn't bat an eye at Lucifer's irresponsibility. He had spent the last few years in Los Angeles attempting to avoid responsibility and defy orders, why stop now? "He would not have shown you the gate and sent you back without purpose. She is coming."

Lucifer had neglected to tell his brother that he wanted to believe he had been sent back purely to save Chloe. Something about that did not seem right to share. It felt intimate, caring, vulnerable… all of those plush words that came with feeling warm, gentle, sensitive human emotions. Those all were to be kept under lock and key. For his reputation, of course.

Amenadiel had a point, though, especially paired with the nauseating fact that Lucifer had maybe… potentially… perhaps… sort of offered an exchange in order of the favor for his prayer. Nothing was worse than being in debt to someone, and nothing compared to being in debt to his father. As Lucifer's sluggish brain caught up with the severity of the conversation, the tea kettle screamed to life from the stove.

"Don't worry about it, my dear brother," Lucifer chose to employ his nonchalant and pompous mask to hide the growing animal in the pit of his stomach. It was making him truly nauseous again. It was a peculiar feeling: not quite fear, but not entirely of disgust either. After filling his cup with the scalding water, he impatiently dipped the orange Earl Grey up and down as if that would make it brew faster. "In all due time, we will solve another one of Father's problems for him. But for now, learn how to use this." Lucifer paused to cross the room and pick up the television remote control from the coffee table. He threw it at Amenadiel, who caught it in a blundering hand. "Keep yourself occupied. But rest; you need to regain your strength."

Lucifer dumped his cup of tea in the sink as he headed for the exit. Who would corrupt the majesty of Earl Grey with a pathetic artificial fruit infusion?

Upon feeling the brisk morning air on his cheeks, Lucifer felt considerably more alive now not cooped up with the pessimism of his brother. He had almost decided to smile to himself before rounding the corner and coming upon Mazikeen, sitting on the sidewalk and doubled over herself. A fleeting panic danced through his blood and then subsided. Despite the recent events in which their little trio had each been compromised, Mazikeen could very much stand up for herself and her decision to curl up on a filthy sidewalk was not worth the emotional effort of assuming she was hurt. Hopefully.

"Decided to pay a visit, have you?" Lucifer called as he approached. Maze had been disturbingly absent from his life as he recovered, presumably due to who was upstairs and could not figure out how to change the channel off of Home Shopping Network. As he approached, he saw that Maze was holding something in her arms, her coat across her lap as a cushion. "What have we here?"

Mazikeen looked up at Lucifer and quickly down again at the ginger tabby cat in her arms. The cat had an unfortunate gash above its left eye that was just starting to scab over. "She's been out here for a few days. I found her when the wound was fresh. But it's getting better now."

"Have you also been out here for a few days, Maze?" Lucifer asked, receiving a nasty glare in response. "Oh, come on. It's a bloody street cat. It's filthy and basically useless. Just leave it be," was his advice, and he turned on his heel in pursuit of his original destination.

"Where are you going!?" Maze yelled after him, clearly displeased at the brevity of their first actual conversation since both he and Amenadiel had basically died. Though she wouldn't admit it, maybe she was also annoyed at his reaction to the innocent cat.

"Investigating. Don't bring that thing inside."

Maybe Maze was going soft. Lucifer allowed himself a laugh.

Following Malcolm's death, Chloe had taken a few days off of work to shake the calamity of last week. There was paperwork to finish at the office, but more troubling was the impact this had had on Trixie, and this was her priority. Trixie had stayed home from school and Chloe was not going to argue. She had been kidnapped and almost watched her mother get murdered. No amount of lounging on the couch watching Spongebob while eating peanut butter sandwiches cut into stars was influencing even the tiniest beam of light in her child's eyes, and that hurt more than anything.

Chloe was discretely searching for child psychologists on her iPad when she heard the kitchen door click open. She had sworn she had locked it. Dan no longer had a key. Her fight instincts turned on as she yelled "hello?" into the other room, sitting up and ready to bash her iPad over the head of this intruder. As quickly as her defenses had risen, Trixie had bolted off of the couch shrieking "LUCIFER!" with more delight and energy than Chloe had been able to coax out of her in days.

Upon seeing Lucifer drift around the corner with an uneasy smirk, Chloe felt her stomach and heart seize. Had he attempted to contact her? She wouldn't know, because her phone was left off. She was tense both from the surprise and because she did not know how to act. Could everything just go back to normal now? Unbeknownst to her, Lucifer was currently having the exact same internal struggle.

"Lucifer, what are you doing here? Couldn't you knock?" She sounded more rude than she had meant to, leading Lucifer to believe that "back to normal" was the way she wanted to play this episode out. Chloe realized she was being defensive because she had been frightened at the thought of an intruder, something she needed to get in check again before returning to work.

Lucifer was shuffling into the living room with his hands up to avoid touching Trixie, who was clung around his waist with incredible strength. "I've come to seek your insight, Detective, but it seems I've caught you on a day off. Or an off day, perhaps."

Chloe did look dreadful. She could not close her eyes without finding them staring down the barrel of a gun. She could not turn her phone on without seeing messages from Dan (or worse, her mother). Her ponytail was greasy and falling out, and little comfort came from laying on the couch in pajamas and fuzzy slippers but she was giving it a shot anyway. She was too tired to be embarrassed.

"Just working from home for a few days," Chloe lied, but she did not want Lucifer or anyone to know she had been rattled by almost dying. Or watching him die. Or seeing him come back to life to save her. That would have to be a conversation on another day, probably with a bottle of wine on standby. "I was going to go into the station in a bit to finish paperwork. What insight do you need that requires you to enter my home unannounced?"

Before Lucifer could formulate another thought, Trixie's hold on him was quickly heading from acceptable to annoying as she was practically dragging his pants down. Not in the mood for faking smiles, an intimidating growl of "release me, nuisance" was escaping his lips and Trixie backed away, dejected. Upon seeing the look on her face, he was immediately filled with as much regret as he would allow himself, and realized he deserved the resulting snap from Chloe as she sprang off of the couch to grab him by the arm and pull him into the kitchen. She was sent into mom mode, her anger immediately rising above her confusion.

"My daughter, was kidnapped," she said in a hushed voice, watching Trixie return to the couch in a slump from the corner of her eye. "She is scared, and depressed, and traumatized. For whatever god-unknown reason, seeing you caused the most joy she has been able to muster in days and you reject her like that? You need to be more sensitive, Lucifer."

Lucifer couldn't even argue with that. Perhaps he should have been more sensitive to Maze earlier as well, he reminisced. He listened to Chloe's reprimand with his lips pursed and was about to respond when she spoke again. "Go apologize to her or I'm not helping you with anything."

After assessing the situation and realizing he wanted to make use of Chloe's detective skills in order to locate his mother, he gave a huffy sigh through his nose and returned to the living room with 'you need to be more sensitive' echoing through his mind.

"Deeply sorry to have offended you, Trixie," he said in his most practiced, business-like voice. Trixie glanced and him and shrugged, then turned her attention back to the television. Lucifer could feel Chloe's eyes burning a hole through the back of his sport jacket. He sighed and took a seat on the couch (the furthest, opposite end of the couch from the girl), rubbing his palms over his thighs and knees. Trixie seemed only interested in the television now so he paid attention as well, attempting to follow the storyline displayed by the cartoons.

"Who is that square chap, right there?" he asked Trixie, pointing at Spongebob. He repeated the question with each character until he had gotten Trixie to introduce him to nearly all of the friends in Bikini Bottom. "So let me get this straight. He's a sponge, who lives in a pineapple. Were I to have to live in a fruit, I would surely pick a watermelon or something much larger than a pineapple. A pumpkin, even."

A laugh. Relief washed over Lucifer and he glanced at Chloe, who had finally uncrossed her arms from her chest. The look on her face was still cross, so Lucifer even went so far as to give Trixie a brief pat on the shoulder. Sensitive felt good when he could manipulate the results in his favor. Perhaps there was a benefit to it after all.

"So what are you looking for insight on?" Chloe emerged from the kitchen chewing on fruit snacks. She tossed a package to Trixie and another at Lucifer, who caught it and looked at it like he had never seen such a snack in his life. They appeared to be some sort of firm jelly, shaped like smiling fruits. There were no pineapples or watermelons, however.

"I need to track down my mother," Lucifer stated bluntly, struggling with the flimsy plastic of the wrapper until he noticed the precut notch for easy opening and felt accomplished. "I have reason to believe she is looking for me and up to no good."

"Your mother?" Chloe asked, unable to hide the shock in her voice. Lucifer continuously griped about his father, but he had never once mentioned his mother. This was both intriguing and confusing, as every time Chloe even momentarily considered believing that he really was the Devil, something brought her back to reality and made her feel ridiculous.

The Devil didn't have a mother. She was pretty sure, anyway.

"Yes, it's a long story," Lucifer brushed it off as he popped a smiling fruit in his mouth. It was orange and tasted artificially awful. "But I thought I could implore your detective skills, Detective. Maybe keep your mind off of… things." He gave a sideways nod toward Trixie.

"Well, I mean, yeah. I can try. I mean, I'm sure there's a mountain of paperwork waiting for me at my desk, but I'll try. What's her name? Do you have a last known address?"

Done with these excuses for a fruit treat, Lucifer handed the rest of his package to Trixie and stood, swooping across the room toward Chloe again. He was smirking to hide the fact that internally, he was gathering up all his courage for three syllables. "Her name is Asherah." This uncommon name was not surprising to Chloe, given that his brother was Amenadiel and he insisted his real name was Lucifer. "Her last known address is Hell."

There it was again. This was all just another layer of his weird biblical metaphor. "Alright," Chloe sounded exasperated but nodded, her arms over her chest again. "Anyway, Trixie, finish your snack and then we have to head down to the station for a minute."

Lucifer was about to scoff that Chloe had barely even acknowledged the divulgence of this sacred information when Trixie started whining. The sound was comparable to a thousand nails across chalkboards to him, but Lucifer managed to endure without covering his ears. "I don't want to go to the station. I want to stay here with Lucifer."

Subjecting himself to hanging out with a child for any amount of time was Hell in itself, but the opportunity to prove himself more sensitive was still on his mind. "Yes, Detective," he crooned, full on devilish gleam in his eye. "You go on to the station. I will be the most entertaining of babysitters."

Chloe was already on her way upstairs to freshen up and attempt to look presentable, so her harsh laugh echoed down the stairwell and throughout the whole house. "Not today," she responded in a tone that implied 'not ever.'

you got a sign, so i paid the ransom

you felt sorry, so i felt the wrath come

had a nice grip on my life 'til you twisted my arm

"i was a prayer" property of alkaline trio