Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Amenadiel stood in the bushes. He was ready to go charging forward to take Lucifer back, but something stopped him. He couldn't believe his eyes. The Lucifer he knew wouldn't be bundling a child up in blankets, making sure he was warm enough. Lucifer was selfish and oblivious to the world. The little boy’s eyes lit up at the cake that Lucifer brought out. Amenadiel almost missed the conversation. 

“It’s no good without you,” the little boy said. 

“I’ll just have to be earlier next year, yeah?” Lucifer answered. The child actually cuddled into him, and Lucifer let him. If anything, he encouraged it, wrapping an arm around him. “What is your birthday wish this year, Anwar?”

The child seemed to think for a minute. Amenadiel expected some frivolous and expensive toy. His brother's son must be like him. 

“I want a piano so I can learn to play like you!” the child said, nearly bursting from excitement. Amenadiel remembered Lucifer playing in the Silver City. He was the best of their siblings at that. 

“Oh, you want to learn piano?” Lucifer asked, and he actually smiled. Was that pride in his face?  “We’ll go shopping tomorrow for a piano, okay? Anything else? New toys?”

“No, I just want to…” The boy seemed worried, like Lucifer wouldn't appreciate what he would say. 

“What, son? Don't be ashamed.” Lucifer's voice was soft when talking to the child. When had he turned into this? Lucifer was watching the boy like he was the most important thing in the universe.

“I just want to spend some time with you,” the little boy said quietly. Amenadiel took the words like a shot to the heart. It was so completely innocent, a request from a child who didn't spend enough time with his father. Amenadiel could almost hear Samael asking the same thing. 

“Then that is exactly what we’ll do,” Lucifer said, an edge to his voice. Amenadiel thought they might be remembering the same thing. Perhaps he could give them more time, just this once. He was gone in a flurry of wings.

Azreal was standing behind a tree, eager to see the child that had the Silver City buzzing. Her big brother had a child, and she couldn't believe it. Of course, he looked exactly like him. He was on the ground, playing with a toy car. He had built ramps out of dirt and seemed to be playing out a scene. 

She wanted to go up to him, talk to him. Surely she could get by with that? No one had forbidden it. Well, Lucifer might not be pleased. The child wouldn't know who she was, though, so everything might be okay. In her focus on what to do, she missed that the little boy got up and was standing by the tree. 

“Why are you hiding?” he asked. 

“I didn't think you would want to see me,” she answered honestly. 

“Who are you?” At least the child finally got around to the real question. 

“I’m Azrael. I…know your father,” she said. 

“Do you want to come play cars with me?” he asked. It was innocent, and she couldn't refuse. That was how the Angel of Death spent an afternoon in the dirt with a little boy. He told her the whole backstory to each car, and they all had them. They spent hours pushing the toys around and laughing. 

“Anwar! It's time to clean up for dinner!” a woman yelled from inside the house. 

“If you know my dad, do you get to see him?” the little boy asked. 

“I haven't seen him in a very long time,” she admitted. 

“I only get to see him on my birthday, and that’s not for forever. But he always does something fun and has cake with me. Maybe you can come?”

“That would be nice,” Azrael said. Anwar hugged her, surprising her. 

“I hope you get to see Daddy soon. I know I miss him. But he will probably have cake for you, too!” he said. “I have to go, but you should come play again!”

“We’ll see, little one,” she said, hugging him back before watching him run to the house. Yes, Lucifer's son was like him, but not in the ways some of her siblings had grumbled.

Chapter Text

Michael was conflicted. He didn't know why he came. Everyone had talked about Lucifer's son from his birth. The details of his conception were appalling, but most of the others seemed to gloss over it. Lucifer had sex with anything, so why should this time be different? Michael - for all their issues - knew this wasn't something Lucifer did willingly, and that was disgusting. He didn't like thinking about his brother, his twin, ever being put in that position. Of course, he punished those responsible. No one was better at punishment than Lucifer, and Michael agreed that they deserved it.

All of the conception issues aside, there was a child now that was half his brother. Said child was playing at a park, looking like any human. Well, maybe not looking like, because if he looked like anyone it was Lucifer when they were younger. His curly black hair and brown eyes, which lit up when he smiled, made Michael think he was looking at his twin again. It had been such a long time. How could Lucifer's son have dirt on his knees and be standing aside while other kids went on the swings? In fact, he seemed to be getting pushed. Michael looked around, noticing that none of the adults seemed to be doing anything about it. He watched a bigger kid push the child again, and he wasn't able to stop himself from marching over.

“That wasn't very nice,” Michael said, causing the bully to look up.

“He fell!” the bigger kid said. “I was trying to help him up.”

“Lying is a sin, and bullying is even worse,” Michael said, staring down at the child. He felt his eyes flame white for a second, just enough to make the child run away.

“Who are you?” Anwar asked, picking himself up. Michael noticed he was holding his arm, and he could see the bruises forming. “You look like my dad, but I know you’re not.”

“Well, child, you are very observant,” he said, skirting the answer. “Can I see your arm?”

Anwar cautiously held out the injured arm. Michael held it gently between his hand and let some of his power flow through. When he opened his eyes, the bruises were gone.

“What did you do?” Anwar asked, poking at his arm like he couldn't believe it. “And who are you? Are you his brother?”

“Lucifer mentioned me?” Michael asked, surprised.

“No, but I can read. He doesn't like to talk about his family. It makes him sad.”

“I don't think sad is the right word, child.” Michael remembered the Fall too well. Breaking his wings, pushing him down. Part of him knew Lucifer never would have allowed him to do it if he hadn't felt he deserved it. None of them could beat him in a fight when he was at full strength. Amenadiel thought he could, but Michael was too close to his twin not to know why Lucifer refused to battle him. It would be embarrassing, after all, for his younger brother to beat him.

“No, I know he gets sad because he had this look in his eyes and there were tears. I asked him about music when he was little. I don't know why it made him sad, but I never asked again.” Anwar looked thoughtful. “Do you want to come have dinner at my house?”

“Oh, child, I don't think that is wise, “ Michael said. “Surely your guardian would object. Not to mention your father.” “I hardly get to see him,” Anwar said, head dropping in sadness. “He has to work far away. But when he comes back, I’m going to show him everything I’ve learned to play on my piano.”

“I’m sure that will please him. I can't stay for food, but maybe I can walk you home,” Michael said. Lucifer would be furious, and he wasn't entirely sure how their father would react either. The child looked so sad, though. He couldn't just leave.

“Can you tell me about Dad?” Anwar asked excitedly, grabbing Michael's hand and leading the way. Michael didn't even have a chance to react. It surely wouldn't hurt, so he told Anwar about Lucifer being the best musician of them all, how they would prank their older brother, and how Lucifer was the best partner in crime. Everything right up until it went to shit. The little boy would ask questions and smiled when he thought his dad had been particularly clever. The walk was over too soon, and Michael knelt down to look the child in the eyes.

“I know your father is very…busy. So if you ever need something, like if those children are hurting you again, put your hands together and pray to me, alright? Just think my name and I'll hear it,” Michael said.

“Can I tell Daddy when he comes for my birthday?” Anwar asked.

“I don't think it would be wise, child. He wants to protect you very much, which is why he has to stay away. He might think I have less than pure intentions, and he might overreact.”

“Okay. Thanks for protecting me, Uncle Michael,” he said, giving Michael a hug before running into the house. Michael stayed crouched down for a minute, still in shock at the casual affection. Lucifer might raise Hell, literally, if he found out. But maybe Michael could help in other ways. He could nudge his brother into spending more time with the son who obviously adored him, and he could try to keep Amenadiel’s nose out of it.

Chapter Text

Nick was standing in the backyard, practicing some spells. It had rained for almost a week straight, and Astra had a rule about not practicing new things inside. He was itching to test his limits after so long. Persephone was sitting in a tree nearby, equally happy at finally spreading her wings. Nick’s first sign that he wasn't alone was a general uneasy feeling, and the second was her hooting in warning. She told him there was someone in the trees. 

“Who’s there?” Nick said, hands starting to move in a protection spell. 

“Calm. I mean you no harm, child,” a man said, walking out. He had black hair and a fluffy beard. He was wearing a robe, but not in the modern sense. It was almost like the one Amenadiel or Michael wore, but it was more…regal.

“Who are you?” Nick repeated. Relatives seemed to like popping up out of hidden places, so maybe this was some brother of his father’s. He hadn't seen Michael for years, but it obviously wasn't him. He started running through a list of names, anyone he could think of. Raphael, Gabriel, Uriel. Lucifer never gave him descriptions, even on the rare occasions when he would mention them. 

“I am not your father’s brother,” the man said. Nick didn't want to admit his unease at the man knowing what he was thinking. “I don't want to disturb you, child. Call me El.”

“El?” Nick asked. It sounded familiar, like he should know what it means, but for some reason it wasn't clicking. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to meet you. After all, it has been long enough. You are growing into a fine young man,” El said. 

Nick wasn't sure he had ever been more confused in his life. Maybe he was a demon? They weren't too far from the Devil’s Doorway, so it was possible one came up. Maybe they found out about him. He doubted his father would ever allow that, but what if he didn't know? What if something happened to him?

“Child, stop your fears. Your father is fine. I am not a demon,” El said again. 

“How do you do that? You are answering my thoughts,” Nick said. 

“It's a special talent. Some might even say I'm omniscient,” he said with a chuckle. Nick felt like there was some joke he wasn't getting. “You are quite clever. I can tell you've almost got it. Now, I do have something to tell you before the penny drops, as it were.”

“And what exactly does an omniscient stranger have to tell me?” Nick asked. He knew there was something there. The name. Omniscient. 

“I want you to know that your father very much wanted, and wants to, be with you. Never doubt that. I know it’s difficult. He often doesn't know how to express his feelings. But, I believe, things will change for the better soon.”

“Why are you talking like a fortune cookie? And how do you know my dad?” Nick asked. Dad. El. He knew exactly who was standing in front of him. 

“Yes, young Nicholas. You figured it out. I know you have many questions, but unfortunately I cannot answer them. As much as I would like to continue our conversation, particularly with your new knowledge, I feel it is time to return home,” God said. How could you hurt him like that was all that Nick could think. The man in front of him frowned before adding, “There are not many things I regret. Everything follows a plan. And if he was still there, he wouldn't have you, so maybe this is one of those times. But I take no pleasure in seeing my son in pain.”

“Why can't you tell him that?” Nick voiced. He didn't have time to think about how he was literally questioning God, or even that it was his grandfather. 

“Maybe for the same reason you can't admit to him that you chose a name not to mock him but to honor him, even when you understand that he has trouble believing it,” God said. “The things we keep closest to our hearts hold the most power, and revealing them makes us far more vulnerable than we are willing to risk. Now I must leave. Have a good birthday, Nicholas.”

Nick was left wondering if it had really happened. Persephone was staring at him, and he supposed that was some indication. He knew that this was one secret he had to keep from his father, because admitting that his “dear old dad” showed up for a chat might just be enough to set him off. Nick didn't particularly want a war with Heaven. He thought about calling for Michael, just to see what had happened, but knew that wouldn't end well either. Michael would probably think he imagined it. God hardly talked to anyone, from what he knew. He decided the only thing he could do was go pack for his trip tomorrow and hope nothing weird would happen. 

Chapter Text

Michael hadn't returned to Earth in years, not since he watched his brother celebrate his son’s tenth birthday. He had wanted to see the child again, but Amenadiel had been furious. He never said exactly what he did, but Michael could see that the fire he had when he left had been sated. He could even hear Lucifer screaming at the sky, because his furious prayers still carried despite his Fall. Michael worried that he and Azrael had made it worse for Lucifer and Anwar, so they agreed to stay away. 

Of course, Amenadiel had left and spent his own time on Earth since then. He came back, talking about how Lucifer had changed and how good their brother was now. Michael wondered where that insight had been years ago, when Lucifer was just trying to take care of his son. Or even when he resurrected that dirty cop. Michael held some resentment for Amenadiel, the one who had Fallen and then come back. The others were glad their older brother was back, but Michael selfishly wished it was Lucifer. All of the pain from the Rebellion melted away when he saw Lucifer and Anwar. He wished he had a chance to make things right.

Uncle Michael, I need you. Something is wrong with Dad. I don't know what else to do. Please, help. 

Michael received thousands of prayers a day, but he knew the one who sent this. Anwar - Nick now, Michael reminded himself - hadn't prayed to him, ever, despite the invitation. What could possibly be wrong with Lucifer? Michael didn't bother taking time to consider the ramifications, flying straight to where the prayer came from. Lucifer would be furious, but he could deal with that. The fear in the boy’s voice was enough to scare Michael. He found himself on the balcony of what he knew was Lucifer's penthouse. The inside was wrecked, and there was blood on the floor. Lucifer was slumped over the couch with his wings out. They looked shredded; the ones that still hung on were stained red. Nick was kneeling on the ground in front of his unconscious father. 

“Uncle Michael,” he said when he noticed the angel. “You came.”

“What happened?” Michael asked, rushing over to get a closer look. 

“He was on a case. He left with Chole, and the next thing I know, he is stumbling in like this. He barely made it to the couch. I think there are bullets in his wings,” Nick said. 

“Idiot,” Michael said, taking stock of the state of Lucifer's wings. “We need to get them out so he can heal. He will keep bleeding if we don't. I need water, towels, and something to pull them out with. I'll move him to the bed, it will be easier.”

Michael picked his brother up, knowing he would hate that he was being carried. There was no choice. He settled Lucifer face down on top of the covers, letting his wings spread out with a bit of support. His bed was big, but not that big. Michael began assessing the wounds, surprised with the spray. Some were more superficial, others went deep. There were some buried in the muscle near his shoulder, and Michael wondered how he had managed to fly back. Lucifer was stubborn and determined, but this was a bit much. Nick came in when he was probing the muscle, putting the water, a bowl, and the towels on the bedside table. 

“Thank you, Nicholas. You should probably go in the other room. Or downstairs. He wouldn't want you to see this,” Michael said, picking up the tweezers he brought. It may have been a long time since they saw each other, but that was one thing Michael knew; Lucifer wouldn't want his son to see him hurt and vulnerable. 

“No, I’m staying. I tried, and my magic won't work. I have to help,” Nick said. Michael stared for a minute, but there wasn't time to argue. He began by ripping off the jacket and shirt Lucifer was wearing, needing better access. His brother could kill him for it later. 

“Okay, he is probably going to move when I start. Could you sit there and hold the wing still?” Michael said, indicating the right wing first. Nick nodded, lifting it carefully and sitting next to Lucifer's head. He lifted the wing so it was straight, making it easier for Michael to work. Michael took a breath, and started with the deepest one, buried near the joint. Lucifer groaned and struggled. Nick never could have held him if he wasn't so weak. After a bit of digging, Michael dropped the bullet in the empty bowl. 

They found a steady rhythm, with Michael removing a bullet and Nick following him and cleaning the wound. Lucifer seemed to lose all energy after the first three and went completely limp. Neither one wanted to admit how worried they were at a completely silent Lucifer, so they focused on their jobs. Michael was trying to force away  the images of the last time he saw Lucifer's wings this broken. They hadn’t been bloody then, just twisted the wrong way. Nick was trying not to cry, because his dad needed him. He couldn't worry about if he would wake up, if breakfast that morning would be their last conversation. Neither looked at the clock, but Michael kept count and noticed he was finished with 48 bullets removed. Nick had cleaned the wings so they were no longer stained red. He also removed the broken feathers, giving new ones a chance to grow. 

“Uncle Michael, can you heal him? Like you did me?” Nick asked quietly, smoothing down a dislodged feather. It had been years since he touched them, being far too old to be wrapped in his father’s wings. 

“No, you’re human. He is still an angel, and only Raphael or my father can heal us. The bit of energy, like I used on you, would be nothing for him,” Michael said. “But he should heal now, as long as that Detective isn't here.”

“So we just wait?” Nick asked, sounding scared. Michael knew he should probably leave. Lucifer wouldn't want him here, but he couldn't leave his nephew alone. Michael nodded, leading him back to the living area. They cleaned the broken glass first, then the blood. The penthouse looked a bit bare, but almost the same by the time they finished. Neither wanted to voice their worries, so they focused on cleaning. Nick even started cleaning things that hadn’t been touched by the blood. 

Almost two hours later, there was a rustling from the bedroom. Both of them focused toward it, waiting to see if Lucifer would walk out. There was a bit more rustling, then a quiet pad of footsteps. Lucifer approached them, blinking his eyes open still. 

“Nicholas, did you…Michael?” he asked, staring at his twin. His wings contracted, poised to strike. 

“Dad, stop! He helped you,” Nick said, moving to stand between them.

“Get away from my son, or Father help me, I will end you right now,” Lucifer said, pushing Nick behind the cover of his wings. 

“Luce-” Michael demanded, but his brother cut him off. 

“Don't talk to me! Get out of my house, and tell them all to stay away. I could take you with or without my wings.”

“I’m sure you could, Luce,” Michael said placatingly. “But I really am just here to help. Nicholas prayed to me, and I-”

“How do you know him? Why did you pray?” Lucifer asked, turning to his son. 

“You needed help, Dad. I'm sorry that I didn't think I could pull 50 bullets out of you on my own!” Nick said, showing a bit of the fire inside him. His eyes hadn't glazed over in red, but the flicker was enough. Nick was almost glowing with a divine light. He sounded so much like Lucifer that it broke Michael's heart. 

“Luce, don't be mad at him. He wanted to help you. I promise I'm not here to hurt you, either of you,” Michael said. 

“Why him?” Lucifer asked, still looking at Nick. He no longer seemed on the verge of destroying things, so that seemed to be positive. 

“I met him when I was nine. He stopped some boys who hurt me, and then he healed me. I thought he would be the best one to help you,” Nick explained. 

“Luce, please sit down. We can talk about this, but you look like you’re about to fall over,” Michael said. 

“Stop calling me that! You lost any right to act like my brother when you threw me out!”

The twins stood facing each other for a few tense minutes. Nick swallowed nervously, knowing his father could not handle a fight right now. Maybe he should have called Amenadiel, but they still had an uncomfortable relationship. For all of the issues in their past, Nick trusted Michael for some reason. Nick stepped forward, putting a careful hand on Lucifer's shoulder. 

“Please, Dad, sit down. I can't watch you collapse again,” he said quietly. Lucifer was still tense, but he moved stiffly towards the couch. Michael held up his hands and backed away, moving to the chair. Nick decided the best place was the floor between them. Lucifer wouldn't jump past him. “Can you just listen to him, Dad? I know he hurt you, but you told me to listen to Amenadiel when he hurt me.”

Michael felt like he was watching a master at work. Nick knew exactly what to say to Lucifer to get the effect he wanted. Lucifer was wrapped around his little finger, and he probably didn't even realize it. Lucifer stared at Nick before giving a small nod. 

“Lucifer, I have never wanted to hurt you or your son.” Lucifer scoffed, and Michael dropped his head. “I know I hurt you then. I did what Father asked because sending you to Hell was better than the alternative. At least you were alive. I regretted it, missed you, wished you were back so much since then.”

“You missed me so much that you never came to visit,” Lucifer said. “Though you apparently found time to visit my son to what, prove you could?”

“Would you have wanted me to visit you in Hell? I didn't realize how much I missed you until I saw him. Everyone was talking about him, and I had to go see for myself. I never meant to actually ...well, he needed help and no one was around. The humans didn't care, so I made sure the bullies left him alone. He looked so much like you,” Michael said, staring at his feet. He knew things wouldn’t be easy with his brother, but he also desperately wanted to move past it.

“Why didn't you ever tell me?” Lucifer asked Nick. 

“I noticed that you got sad every time you mentioned your family. He told me you wouldn't like being there-” 

“Damn right.”

“And I had read about…it. I knew who he was, that it wasn't just a brother.”

“You knew?” Michael asked, amazed at the kid. 

“As soon as you said your name,” Nick confirmed. 

“You hugged me, knowing who I was,” Michael said carefully. This kid was more of a miracle than he’d ever know. 

“You were nice to me. I could tell talking about Dad made you sad, too. I thought that maybe, like with dad, the books didn't have the whole story,” Nick explained. It seemed self-explanatory to him. 

“Nicholas, I thought we talked about this. Lying is wrong. You told me you would never do it,” Lucifer said, clenching his fists. Michael recognized the his fidgeting from years together; Lucifer never could keep his hands still when agitated. 

“Did you ever ask me if I met your siblings? I'm pretty sure I didn't lie,” Nick said confidently. He looked so smug that it took everything in Michael to avoid smiling. It was like watching a spitting image of his brother.

“Siblings? Plural?”

“I think I met your sister, but she never really told me who she was. I just guessed.”

Michael had to stifle his laughter. Nick was so much like Lucifer, and he could see how frustrated that made his brother. Mr. Conditional Honesty was finally getting a taste of his own medicine, and it was bitter. Lucifer put his head in his hands, suddenly too exhausted to deal with this. 

“Lucifer, Azrael and I didn't even know about the other until after. And it was certainly not either of our intentions to harm your son or turn him against you. When we saw you together, we both knew he was the best thing to ever happen to you. We wanted to protect that.”

“You spied on us?” Lucifer asked quietly. His rage was building again, and quiet Lucifer was much scarier than screaming. 

“Not like that! It was his birthday, and we just wanted to nudge you into staying longer. We both felt guilty, and we knew we couldn't keep Amenadiel away forever-”

“My tenth birthday,” Nick said in awe. “You did that?”

“Maze is the one who suggested staying, not you. I would have remembered,” Lucifer said, not ready to let his brother take credit. He would have known if Michael had been there.

“Well, your trusty demon found us. I believe decapitation was threatened, but we filled her in on our plan. You trusted her far more than us, anyway, so it wasn't a problem to let her take credit.”

“Dad, can't you see? He was trying to help us!” Michael appreciated Nick defending him, but it was obviously agitating Lucifer. He had to fix this quickly. Lucifer looked ready to explode.

“Luce...ifer, send Nicholas downstairs and you can do whatever you want to me. I know I deserve it, but he doesn't need to see it,” Michael said. He was prepared for his brother to beat the shit out of him if it would help mend their relationship. 

“Dad,” Nick said, trying to sway Lucifer. “He’s your brother.”

Maybe the child didn't always know what to say. Lucifer's mask hardened, losing any sympathy. 

“Nicholas, go downstairs. In fact, go find Mazikeen. I believe she is with Linda. I can deal with her next,” Lucifer said, staring at Michael. 

“Dad, you can't. He saved you! I know this isn't you,” Nick said desperately. 

“Leave, Son,” Lucifer said. Nick looked like he was going to protest, but even he could see Lucifer's eyes meant there was no arguing. 

“Fine, but I'm not your butler. You can get Maze on your own for your stupid reason,” Nick said, practically punching the call button for the elevator. Both angels were silent until the door closed. Michael stood up, holding his hands up. 

“I know I deserve it. Do what you need to do,” he said. 

“So I can turn into exactly what everyone thinks? The monster who causes sin, destroying everything because he can? No, that's not me,” Lucifer said, leaning back and stretching his arms along the couch. Michael raised an eyebrow, wondering if this was a surprise tactic. He looked like he was a king on his throne, which admittedly he kind of was. Well, a retired king. “I sent Nicholas away because you are going to tell the truth, and he doesn't need to hear about being used. Even if it was by you.”

“I don't know what you’re talking about. I haven't used him.”

“Azrael going to spy on my son and ending up meeting him, that I can believe. She's curious, could never stay away from anything that interested her. But Michael? Who is like God? The Sword? No, everything you do has a meaning. No accidents,” Lucifer said. His view of Lucifer had changed all those years ago, seeing him with his son, but he was still the ruthless brother he always knew, at least when he saw you as an enemy. Michael was on that list. 

“Brother, I promise, I had no motives other than curiosity. I didn't even want to meet him. I mean, now I am glad I did, but at the time I was just trying to see if he was like everyone said. What human had you saving time on Earth just to be with him?”

“You couldn't imagine me being a good father?” It was just another mark against him, Lucifer was sure. How would the rebellious troublemaker be a good father? It was probably all they talked about in Silver City, desperate for some entertainment. 

“Honestly? I couldn't imagine you as a father at all. I know, maybe more than anyone, how you felt about ours. And Luce, I know how it happened. I'm sorry. I wish I had been there for you,” Michael said. Lucifer seemed stunned at the sudden reminder. It silenced him for a minute. Of all his siblings, he never expected Michael would be the one to sympathize with him, even if he was only doing it to look better. He seemed so sincere, but it couldn't be true. 

“Why did you ever introduce yourself?” Lucifer asked, looking out the windows and staring at the sky.

“Like I said earlier, he was being bullied. The humans weren't taking care of it. He looked just like you, Luce. And he wasn't doing anything to fight back. Call me heartless, but I couldn't watch my nephew get pushed around. And I saw that he was hurt, so of course I healed him. And he’s your son. Did you think he wouldn't notice that we look alike? I mean, he never mistook me for you, but he knew we were related. I wasn't going to lie to him.”

“He never told me about bullies. Or Astra,” Lucifer said, deep in thought. How much had he missed his son’s life? 

“I doubt they, or anyone, bothered him again after my talk. Humans don't tend to poke at angelic bears,” Michael said. “And he may not have wanted to worry you. You had so little time together, he probably wanted to keep it happy.”

“My son shouldn't have had to hide things from me. He should have been able to tell me if he was hurt.”

“Yes. You shouldn't have been forced to stay in Hell and watch him grow up from afar,” Michael agreed. 

“Wait, you agree? Is this a trick? Nothing about Father’s plan?”

“My only trick was telling Amenadiel I lost a heaven-forged sword on Earth so he spent two weeks looking. And I know when he found out that he took it out on you, because the beating I got wasn't nearly vicious enough. And…I heard you. Azrael cried for days.”

“You truly distracted him? For us?” Lucifer asked. 

“He was so sad when I talked to him, Luce. He just wanted his dad. The whole way home, he asked me to tell him stories. He loves you and looks up to you. Amenadiel was getting in the way because of his ego, convinced he knew what Dad wanted. They all think they know what He wants,” Michael said, disgusted. 

“And you? What do you think He wants?”

“I think He wants His children to stop using him as an excuse. He never told Uriel to come down here. He didn't tell Amenadiel to try to kill you. If they knew anything, they would know that endangering a human was the quickest way to piss Him off. Look at Mom,” Michael said. 

“Why didn't you ever go back, if you wanted to protect him?”

“Azrael and I felt like we failed. Yes, you got two weeks, but Amenadiel was worse than ever. I saw Nick crying after you left and decided it was better to stay away. I told him to pray if he ever needed anything, and he never took me up on it. Until now.”

“He really hates Amenadiel,” Lucifer commented, realizing that particular issue was hardly settled. Knowing now that Nick had met some of his siblings and had a positive experience, he wasn’t as surprised by the resentment of his oldest brother.

“Well, he can be a prick,” Michael said. “The kid has good taste.”

“You’re just saying that because he likes you.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, and it was almost like things used to be. 

“Luce, you are a good father. He was so scared when he prayed. He wouldn't leave your side. Whatever issues you may have, he loves you.”

“Chloe and I were ambushed again. Cain had some followers who evaded capture. We were called out to a case, and they showed up to finish the job,” Lucifer said. Michael wasn't sure why he was explaining it, but he was grateful that they were just talking now. “They started shooting, and I had to protect her. I used my wings, again. I got Chloe away, but we both knew being near her would make it worse. She told me to get back here and text her when it was safe.”

“Then you flew…you are so stupid,” Michael said. 

“I never claimed to be the smart one,” Lucifer joked. “Just the pretty one.”

“Or the ridiculously brave one,” Michael said, moving to sit by Lucifer. He put his own arm around Lucifer’s shoulders, something he hadn’t done in eons. “I should have taken care of Amenadiel years ago. Now the prat is up there soaking up glory for being enlightened.”

“When did you grow a backbone?” Lucifer said, bumping shoulders with Michael to ease the tension. The contact with his twin felt good after so long.

“The day your nine year old son invited me for dinner,” Michael answered seriously. “And it helped the day I saw you smile and tell him he was the best star you ever created. If my brother could create such a beautiful thing, even out of all the mess, then I could finally stand up for him.”

“He truly is the best thing to happen to me. And I sent him away after he saved my life.”

“Come now. We both know he is downstairs. Probably hasn't moved from the elevator. He is your son, after all. I think he will forgive you for needing alone time to talk through millenia old drama.”

Nick was indeed waiting in the elevator. He came in ready to berate Lucifer, but calmed down when he saw that neither one looked like they had been fighting. He sat on the couch, enjoying Lucifer's wing casually brushing against his shoulder. The three spent the rest of the day sharing stories. Nick took a while to understand why he felt light filling up inside him, then he looked from his dad to his uncle. He was with his family. 

“Hey, Chloe?” Nick said into the phone. Lucifer was passed out on the couch again with Michael next to him. The bullets and healing obviously took a lot out of him. He muttered something about ‘Detective’ in his sleep, and Nick realized there was someone he needed to check on. 

“Nick! Oh my g-Is he okay? He never called, and I didn't know if he even made it back,” Chloe said quickly. 

“Yeah, he’s fine now. He passed out after he got back, but all the bullets are out and he’s healing,” Nick explained. 

“Oh, no, Nick. You didn't have to…” she trailed off. Maze had told her what happened after the Cain incident. She had cut Lucifer's wings off in the beginning, and she still got misty eyed describing that night of removing hundreds of bullets. Chloe should have called someone, Maze or Linda. Or both. 

“What? Oh, no. I didn't do it. I, um, called someone for help. Dad’s brother,” Nick explained. 

“Amenadiel? I didn't know he was back.”

“He’s not. I called Uncle Michael. He got them all out and made sure it was healing properly.”

“Michael? The one who…” Chloe trailed off, not sure how to say it. She read enough in the time after she saw Lucifer's face, and he had told her pieces. The only time he mentioned Michael was when she asked about his Fall. 

“Yes, he’s Dad’s twin. He…was the one who made him Fall, if that is what you’re asking.” Nick felt oddly uncomfortable. He was justifying his decision to Chloe, who wasn't even with his father yet. Sure, he liked her, but he rarely had to answer for something like this. He’d made some terrible decisions before, including resurrecting Tommy Kinkle, but he only had to live with his own conscious. He suddenly felt like he was eight again, having to answer for sneaking off to Hell. 

“Why did you call him? How did you call him?” she asked. Nick wished he didn't feel like he needed to explain himself, but Chloe had a Mom voice.

“He healed me once before, so I thought he could do the same to Dad. Something in the wings, I guess the divine part, was stopping my magic. I was scared, and I prayed to the first one I thought of,” Nick explained. 

“Oh, Nick. I’m sorry I left you to deal with that. I should have come anyway to help.”

“No, he could have died. There were some lodged pretty deep. But they healed when Michael got them out. He would have kept bleeding if you were here. It's probably just a few more hours and they will be fine.”

“Are you alone? You said Lucifer was passed out. I can come, or call Maze. You shouldn't have to take care of him alone,” Chloe said softly. 

“No, Uncle Michael is still here. Definitely don't call Maze, she'll try to kill him,” Nick said. He took a deep breath. “They finally got to talk. Things are better now. They were even laughing before they both fell asleep.”

“That’s great, Nick! I'm so happy for you. If you need anything, just call. It sounds like you handled things really well, though. I'm sure Lucifer is proud.”

Nick tried not to admit how much better that made him feel. He’d washed his hands, but the more he thought about it, the more he could still feel his Dad’s blood coating them. First in the literal sense, seeing his mortality for the first time. Then, worrying about having brought his brother to them. Chloe knew what he needed to hear when Lucifer was too out of it to say it himself. He had already obsessively cleaned the apartment when he was waiting for Lucifer to wake up the first time, so he couldn't do that. Instead he decided to make something to eat, hoping that cooking would take his mind off his worry.

Nick had finished making pasta from scratch and was starting to plate his ravioli when Lucifer came into the kitchen. He smiled at Nick, coming over to give him a bear hug. 

“Thank you, Nick. I didn't say it earlier, but I am so proud of you,” he said. “I know it can't have been easy to see me like that, but the injuries and with Michael. You were so brave.”

“Dad, I hardly did anything. Uncle Michael did the hard work. Are you hungry?” Nick asked, grabbing another plate. 

“Always, if that is Astra’s recipe,” Lucifer teased. “And give yourself credit. You saved my life and ended the biggest feud in the last…well, a long time.”

“Ended it?” Nick was smiling when he asked the question. 

“Well, there isn't much point in being angry anymore, is there? He helped you save me, admitted he has been looking out for you for years, and even threatened Amenadiel.”

Nick enjoyed seeing the smile on Lucifer's face. Yes, he had been happy since Nick moved to Los Angeles. He was certainly happy when he was with Chloe. But seeing him talk about family without the anger, this was the first time he’d ever seen that. Lucifer was complimenting the meal as soon as he took a bite. 

“I called Chloe to let her know you are okay,” Nick said. 

“Bloody hell. I forgot to let her know,” Lucifer said. He started to feel for his phone, then realized he was still shirtless. His phone was in his jacket pocket.

“I explained that a family situation came up. And she said she would stay away until you’re healed,” Nick explained. “It's been a long time since I saw you walking around with them out.”

Lucifer's brows pulled together in confusion until Nick inclined his head toward the wings. He glanced to the side and shook his head. 

“I honestly forgot they were out. They heal faster like this. I can probably put them away soon,” Lucifer explained, poking at one of the healing spots on his right wing. “I hated them for so long. The ash in Hell was a mess, and it was just another sign of his control. You know, when you were a baby, you wouldn't leave them alone. You wouldn't stop crying until I got them out.”

Nick cleared his throat, trying not to admit that he was fairly confident it was because he felt safe with the wings. He said, “Do you think Uncle Michael is going to stay for awhile?”

“You’ll have to ask him. I’m sure he has a job to get back to,” Lucifer said casually. It was too casual. Nick was wondering if he could continue to prod when said angel came into the kitchen. 

“Still running around half-naked, brother?” Michael asked, leaning on a chair. 

“I saw what you did to my jacket and shirt. With all your power, there was no other way to get the bullets out? You just wanted to destroy them,” Lucifer said, shaking his head as he finished his plate. 

“I have to admit, your new style does have some appeal to it,” Michael said. 

“Just another way I’m ahead, brother.”

Nick watched the playful bickering contentedly. He cleaned up the dishes after offering Michael some. It was still a little surreal to watch his father bicker with someone who looked so much like him. It took arguing with a brick wall to another level. Maybe arguing with a mirror? Either way, it was funny that there was an answer to every crack Lucifer said. When Nick let him know that Maze said to let her know “when he looked less like a plucked chicken”, Lucifer decided to get his own phone from his destroyed jacked. 

“Nicholas, I didn't tell you earlier, but you were amazing. Being able to keep your head, with your father injured like that, it shows how special you are. I’m proud of you,” Michael said, patting Nick’s hand. “And last but hardly least, I owe you quite a bit. I didn't think I would ever be able to see my brother again, let alone have him talk to me about anything other than how much he hates me.”

“You and Dad did that on your own. It seems you learned conflict resolution over the years,” Nick said. 

“Now I hear you rival your father on the piano. I'm interested in hearing that,” Michael said, smiling proudly. 

“That might be a slight exaggeration on piano, but you should see him on guitar,” Lucifer said, hearing the conversation as they went into the main area. “The Detective should be stopping by soon, and I believe she is bringing her offspring. After…what happened, she doesn't want to leave her. I hope that is acceptable.”

“I get to meet your Detective?” Michael asked, grinning. 

“I doubt it will be a long visit. If you act like that, I’ll lock you in the wine cellar. It worked for Mom,” Lucifer said. 

“Did it really? Or are you pretending the short time she stayed there was more than just consideration for you?” Michael asked. 

They bickered, but it was still friendly. Nick sat down at the piano, intent on ignoring them. He never claimed to be better than his father, but the comment about his guitar skills filled him with pride. It would take a lot for Lucifer to admit someone was better at something. Nick vaguely noticed that Lucifer and Michael quietened their squabble when he started playing. He wasn't sure why he picked the song; it was one Lucifer taught him without sheet music. Lucifer never talked a lot about it, just saying it was something he played since he was young. Lucifer had even sung along with it while teaching him, singing in a language Nick knew he would never understand. Either way, his fingers started playing it of their own accord. He assumed Lucifer and Michael were being polite when they stopped talking, but he was too busy to notice the looks on their faces. Lucifer's jaw was open, almost gaping. Michael's eyes were darting between Lucifer and Nick, before finally settling on the one playing. He was smiling softly, but his eyes also seemed misty. 

“Beautiful, Nick,” Lucifer commented when he finished. He cleared his throat and went to pour a drink. 

“It’s just like if we were younger again,” Michael said. “You look like him even more when you’re playing. Do you sing, too?”

“Not that,” Lucifer said. He was gripping his glass tightly. “I’m going to put on decent clothes before the Detective and her offspring arrive.”

Lucifer disappeared to his room, leaving a stunned angel and half-witch behind. Lucifer answering for Nick was strange, and he wasn't sure exactly why that song set him off. Obviously it was from his past, but he seemed fine when they played it before. Michael knew it, though. It must have been something from Heaven, which isn't what he expected. Had Lucifer really taught him a hymn? 

“Do you know the name of that?” Nick asked. “He never told me. Taught me without sheet music.”

“Phos Hilaron. It is a very old hymn about light. It was Sam’s favorite,” Michael said quietly. “Every angel would stop when he played.”

“Sam?” Nick asked, looking toward the bedroom. 

“He wasn't Lucifer yet,” Michael explained. “He was Father’s favorite, lighting the stars to further Father’s plan.”

“I...um, have a question about your dad. Can I ask you later?” Nick said, realizing it was an opportunity. Michael quirked his head before nodding. 

“You can ask me about anything, Nicholas. I will answer everything I can truthfully,” Michael promised. 

Lucifer walked back out in a black three-piece suit with a red shirt. His wings disappeared from sight, and his eyes were glued to his phone. Nick had been around long enough to see the coping mechanism for what it was. Lucifer didn't want to meet their eyes, so this was a convenient way around it. He poured another glass of liquor, leaning on the bar. 

“Dad, could you play something?” Nick asked. If there was one way to settle his twitchy hands, it was to get them on the keys. Lucifer acquiesced, beginning with “Gimme Shelter” then continuing to more ironic options. Nick was well-aware that Lucifer found every song related to himself or that he could use for that and learned them to perfection. He was on “Devil’s Haircut” by the time the elevator pinged open. 

“Nick!” Trixie shouted, running to give him a hug. It had only been a few days, but she was as exuberant as if it had been a year. Chloe looked strained but smiled softly as she saw Lucifer at the piano and Nick picking up Trixie. When she noticed the third man in the room, she tensed again. 

“Whoa. Lucifer, is he your brother, too?” Trixie asked. 

“Yes, spawn, this is Michael. My twin, or the poor copy of me, whichever you prefer,” Lucifer said, striding over to Chloe. He seemed to visually scan her, making sure she hadn't come away with an injury he didn't notice. She smiles softly at him, shaking her head. 

“I was created first, as you very well know,” Michael said, rolling his eyes. “It is nice to meet you, Beatrice.”

“You know my name! Cool! Are your wings like Lucifer's?” she asked. 

Nick decided they could give his father some time alone, so he ushered them further into the living area. There wasn't much privacy in the open plan penthouse, but moving to the couch and focusing on Michael would give Lucifer and Chloe a moment alone. Trixie asked Michael some questions, interspersing them with stories about her piano lessons or trips to the beach. She even told him about the islands they were learning about in school that Lucifer said he would take her to so her report was more authentic, but Chloe vetoed the idea. 

Nick tried to pretend he wasn't snooping on his father. He deserved his privacy, of course. Nick would have been furious if Lucifer listened in when he spoke to Sabrina. But he’d rarely seen his father with the soft look in his eyes, laying his hand on someone's cheek and murmuring with his soothing voice. I’ll go down to Hell and kill you again myself if you pull that again and I’ll always save you, Chloe were enough to reassure Nick that his father was in good hands. He focused back on Trixie's story about Galapagos turtles, which Michael seemed fascinated by. Chloe and Lucifer moved to join them sometime later. Trixie stopped her story to run over and hug Lucifer, which he carefully returned. 

“Mommy said a bad man hurt you at work again,” Trixie said. 

“I’m perfectly fine now, Beatrice,” Lucifer replied softly. 

“You saved Mommy. Again. Thank you,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Nick noticed that it seemed like everyone stopped. Michael was staring with open shock. Chloe was watching to carefully to see Lucifer's reaction. Nick was holding in a pleased smile because of course the nine-year-old would be the one to finally get to Lucifer. Lucifer stunned a few of the occupants by pressing his lips to the top of Trixie's head, squeezing her in a hug again. 

“I promise I will always be there to save your mother and you, Beatrice,” he said quietly but with conviction. Nick remembered how comforted he had been by the same promise, how it felt like light flooding through him when his father would scare away his fears with a gentle promise. Trixie smiled again before moving back to sit between Michael and Nick. 

“So, Michael, are you going to be visiting for awhile? We can leave so you can get back to it,” Chloe said. She was obviously uncomfortable around him, trying to both reconcile her previous feelings with what Nick shared as well as accept that Lucifer had an actual twin. If it wasn't for the clothing, she might have a difficult time telling them apart. 

“Oh, I think I can stay as long as my brother will have me,” Michael said. “Given previous history, that may not be long at all.”

Nick’s eyes widened when Lucifer didn't immediately deny it. Not only did he have questions for Michael, but he was enjoying being with his family. He’d never had that opportunity before, other than short times with Lucifer and Maze. He loved Maze, saw her like an aunt, but she only knew the Devil side of Lucifer. Michael had been with him since they were created. He had stories, things Nick could relate to, of a happier time in his father’s life. He was there when Lucifer lit the stars. Besides that, Lucifer seemed happy since whatever they had said while he was in the elevator. Other than the brief moment when Nick played that stupid song, everything was almost like normal. Or what Nick assumed was normal for a family, because he had little experience there. How did he manage to make the Spellmans seem normal? 

“We wouldn't want to keep you from your duties, oh Warrior,” Lucifer said. His edge was back in his voice, and Chloe wished she had stayed quiet. 

“I believe my mission right now is to be with my brother and nephew. I was responding to a prayer, and said caller hasn't released me yet. So I can stay as long as it doesn't impose,” Michael replied calmly. It may have been millenia, but he was well aware of Lucifer's moods. Lashing back would only make things worse. 

“Maybe we should go. Come on, Trix,” Chloe said. 

“No, Detective, please stay. I am going to make myself scarce for a bit anyway. I believe I owe Nick a few embarrassing stories of his father,” Michael said with a smirk. It was enough to throw Lucifer off the scent as he scowled. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Chloe and Beatrice. I am glad my brother found such caring humans to surround himself.”

“I’ll see you later, Trixie,” Nick said, following Michael to his own bedroom. Lucifer stopped him before he could get far. 

“You know he isn't the one who is bound not to lie,” Lucifer said. 

“Scared he will tell me about how you fell when you tried to fly?” Nick joked. “Don't worry, Dad. Enjoy your time here.”

Michael was looking around the room carefully when he came in. The three walls that weren't covered by a giant window were painted deep blue. One wall had a large bookshelf, which was steadily filling up as Nick moved some from Greendale to here. His mahogany desk sat on the wall near the windows, giving him a view of Los Angeles while he was working. It's intricately carved legs were one indication that Lucifer had a hand in picking furniture, if only to insist that money was not an issue. There were photographs hanging above the desk, which Michael recognized as pictures from Nick’s birthdays. He even saw a few with the child he just met as well as all four of them. Nestled in the corner of the large collage was a picture with a platinum haired girl who looked to be closer in age to Nick. She wore a red dress, and they were laughing at something out of sight. Next to the desk stood a tall perch with an owl who appeared to be sleeping. Perhaps the most striking things were the entrapped balls of light next to the bed and on the desk. They were ornate silver candelabras with glass covers over each arm. Inside each glass orb was a ball of light moving just slightly. Nick noticed Michael's eyes linger on them. 

“Dad wanted me to work on my…abilities. Once he realized I could make light, he got me to start shaping them and controlling temperature. So I guess I made little stars. I couldn't quite get rid of them when we finished practicing, so we came up with a solution,” he said, rubbing his neck. “He wants to work on colors next, but I think it is just because he decided he liked my lights and wants to have some in the rest of the penthouse.”

“He loved every single one he made, too,” Michael said, patting Nick on the back. He could see the spines of the books, showing a combination of mortal and magical texts. He seemed to have them organized by content, which is how Michael noticed the entire section that contained books such as Paradise Lost and The Divine Comedy .

“Dad helped a lot. I didn't really care, but he wanted me to feel at home here. Don't tell him, but I do think actual stars are a step up from the ones I had painted on my ceiling back in Greendale,” Nick said. 

“The secret is safe with me,” Michael promised. “Now I believe you had a question. I wanted to make sure I fulfilled my promise before your father was inclined to throw me out.”

“Dad won’t-” Nick stopped at the look Michael gave him. “Okay, Dad isn't exactly forthcoming when he mentions your family. He only really told me about his Fall before I moved here, and that was because he needed to explain what the Pit was.”

Michael was uncomfortable with the reminder of how he hurt his brother. He hadn't been to Hell, not after Lucifer's Fall, but the others told him. The giant crater that was in the deepest part of Hell, where Lucifer laid for who knows how long. Alone. Hurt. How he turned it into an impenetrable prison, worrying a few who spoke out against the Rebellion. They firmly believed Lucifer wanted revenge, and the Pit was his beginning. He would need to trap other celestials if he fought against them again. The farther away from the Silver City Michael got, the more frustrated he was with his siblings and himself. How could they think Samael, Lucifer, was capable of plotting their imprisonment? And did they not see the irony in fearing they would be stuck in Hell as punishment for doing what they believed was right? Yes, Lucifer was bitter. He had plenty of anger still over his Fall. Underneath that was much more pain, though, and Michael was ashamed to have been a cause. 

“Uncle Michael?” Nick prompted. Michael realized he had tuned out what the boy was saying to go on his wallowing recollections. 

“Sorry. Remembering your father’s Fall is painful for me, knowing my part in it. My regret is surely outweighed by Lucifer's own pain, no doubt. Still, I have many regrets from  the last millenia,” Michael explained. 

“I actually need to ask about that. From the little Dad has said, your father,” Nick couldn't resist his eyes flicking up to the sky, “doesn't exactly talk a lot. Amenadiel said he kept Dad away because it is what he assumed your father wanted, but he was never told to. I just…Dad never really described him. And everyone says he hasn't really been heard from lately. But then how…”

“Nicholas, there wasn't a question there. Do you want to contact Him?” Michael asked. 

“Actually, it was the other way around,” Nick muttered, flopping onto his bed. Michael's eyes snapped to Nick rubbing his closed ones with the heels of his hands. 

“You think Father tried to contact you?” Michael asked, sitting down beside his nephew. 

“Either it was him, or some crazy mind reader played a cruel joke right before my birthday.” Nick was staring at the ceiling, unable to admit he almost wished it would happen again. Maybe then it would seem real. Persephone hooted from her perch, trying to calm him. 

“What did he say? What did he look like? How did you know it was Him?” Michael asked quickly. 

“He was a little older than you and Dad with black hair and a beard. Not what I pictured, honestly. He had a robe kind of like yours, only it was yellow with some blue stuff stitched on. It looked a little different than yours. There was gold on it, too. I don't remember much about what was on it, other than a big alpha and omega,” Nick explained. Michael let out a shaky breath. It had been a long time since he spoke to his father directly, but that description was eerily accurate. There was no way Lucifer went into detail about any of that, so there was only one way for NIck to know. 

“And he actually spoke?” Nick nodded. “What did he say?”

“That's where I’m confused. I mean, he spent half the time trying to get me to stop freaking out. Answering a person's thoughts does not do that, by the way. Just in case you want to pass along that note. He said to call him El, which is why I probably should have connected the dots earlier. First, he just said he wanted to meet me. He said he was…proud of me?”

Nick seemed unsure on his retelling, like he still couldn't believe it happened. He put it out of his mind the past few weeks. It was easy with everything going on to forget the weird man in his yard. But Michael being there, wanting to reconcile with Lucifer, that made him wonder if he was the only one. The man had been so insistent. 

“Well, Nick, even if that is all he said, it is more than he has said to his children in a long time. Maybe being a grandfather suits him,” Michael joked, but inside his mind was spinning. 

“Oh, that wasn't all. He seemed to really want me to know that Dad wanted to be with me. Even if he has trouble expressing it, he said, Dad loves me more than anything. He really wanted me to believe it, and even said things would be changing for the better soon,” Nick explained. 

“And your dad did ask you to move here right after that, didn't he?” Michael said, knowing the answer. Lucifer would be so pissed. 

“Yeah. Well, it finally clicked who he was. I guess God doesn't lie, but he must be where Dad learned his omission from. He kept skipping over my questions. Yeah, I should have known sooner, but I was shocked anyone was there in the first place.”

“Nicholas, he hasn't been to Earth to deliver a message…well, ever. Normally Gabriel does it, depending on what is needed. Architects don't like to fiddle too much with their buildings once they are done, do they? I don't know if I would have believed it myself. Did he leave when you said you knew who he was?”

“Soon after. But I may have…my brain was ahead of my mouth, but that doesn't matter when the other being can read your thoughts, does it? And everything I’ve ever associated with him was how upset my dad gets when he comes up. I basically said I didn't know how he could hurt Dad like that,” Nick said, covering his eyes with an arm. 

“Hey, he didn't strike you down where you stood. No lightning, right? You are still here, so it can't have been that bad,” Michael said, trying to comfort the boy. Internally, he was split between rolling with laughter and being mystified that everything he said hadn't happened. Nick couldn't be any more Lucifer's son if he tried. 

“That’s just it! He basically said he regretted it. Well, he said some stuff about a plan and things working out, but he said he doesn't like seeing Dad in pain. And I had to open my idiot mouth to ask why he didn't just come tell Dad. He could have pointed out that Dad would go ballistic or at least try to fight him, but no. He had to get deep and say shit about how sometimes we hide things because we are scared of being vulnerable. And he even tried to turn it back on me, saying I purposely don't push Dad on why I chose my name.”

Michael was genuinely torn. Yes, it sounded exactly like his father to show up and give some uninvited lesson, turning everything into a parable. Nick’s description was flawless, from the clothing to the content of his conversation. He even picked up on how Father would redirect the conversation to avoid answering. Using El was brilliant, because any other name would have been instantly recognizable. It was just a hair off, but enough to probably obscure the truth from the boy long enough to say his bit. It worked. But would He really come down just to meet his grandson and try to repair a relationship? 

“Are you asking me if it was really Him? Or do you have a bigger question on your mind?” Michael asked carefully. 

“I don't even know. I think that is the problem. I know it was Him. I just do. Not from the creepy mind tricks or his looks or anything. I had a feeling, like some kind of power was lighting up everything around us when he was there. I've seen Dad with his eyes or even his Devil face, but nothing came close to that feeling. It was wonderful and scary at the same time,” Nick admitted. “But why? Why would he do that? In my whole life, I’ve never seen him. Unless he is hiding it, Dad hasn't seen him since his Fall. And he shows up to basically to say he is sorry but also can't say that directly?”

“Humans say that Father works in mysterious ways,” Michael said. “But I think they fail to understand just how cryptic he can be. A face on a piece of toast is nothing compared to what we get. I truly don't know why he showed up, Nick. Is he why you moved here?”

“No, not really. I always wanted to. I was scared, I guess. I strung Dad along because of my issues, not knowing if he would stay. I've watched him leave a lot in my life,” Nick admitted. 

“My father certainly wasn't wrong about one thing. Lucifer loves you more than anything. He would do anything to keep you safe, which at the time meant staying away,” Michael said. “So if Dad didn't push you into moving, does it really matter?”

“I think we both know that it matters, in particular to a certain Devil in the other room,” Nick said. “If I believe what your dad was saying, he doesn't hate my dad. He isn't trying to torture him with wings or losing his face or anything. Doesn't my dad have a right to know that?”

“Your father deserves so much more than what he was given,” Michael said. “And I’m not going to make a decision for you. If you think he should know, tell him. I can be there. Or I can tell him for you, but you have to decide.”

“How do you think he would respond to ‘Gramps’?” Nick asked before cracking a smile. Michael burst out laughing, falling onto the bed. 

That conversation was the reason Michael found himself seated in Lucifer's living room, clutching his tumbler for dear life. Nick asked him to be the bearer of confusing news, and Michael had promised he would. Nick fled to his room after dinner to practice his guitar. Michael almost rolled his eyes. The Detective and her child had left shortly before dinner, despite offers to stay. Apparently the child had an appointment with Mazikeen for self-defense. At least Michael knew she would be busy and wouldn't be interfering in arguably the most difficult conversation he had to have. Somehow his difficult things always came back to hurting Lucifer. 

“I don't think I’ve ever seen you think this hard, brother,” Lucifer said, sipping his own drink. They could faintly hear Nick’s guitar, but Michael desperately hoped he couldn't hear them. Hopefully angelic hearing wasn't heritable. 

“I have something to tell you, and you won't like it. I still don't really understand it, but it is important for you,” Michael said. 

“Oh, what, do you have some secret message from dear old Dad?” Lucifer teased. His smile dropped at Michael's silence. His face became pinched and the Hellfire lit up his eyes. “Did you only come here to deliver some message? I thought Gabriel was stuck with that. How the mighty have fallen.”

“Luce, I’m not your enemy! And the message wasn't given to me. He just couldn't tell you himself,” Michael said, not flinching at Lucifer's obvious anger. 

“He...Nick?” Lucifer asked. The anger dropped as quickly as it came, replaced by fear. 

“Apparently he showed up to talk to Nick a few weeks ago, right before he came for his birthday,” Michael explained. 

“He never said…”

“Luce, the last thing that kid wants to do is hurt you. Look at how you just reacted. I think we’ve established Nicholas would do anything for you, including try to protect you,” Michael said. 

“Did he…is he hurt? How did I miss this? All I’ve done is put my son in danger,” Lucifer said, covering his face with his hands. 

“Luce, Dad didn't hurt him. Nick is fine, other than being worried about how you are going to react to what he said.” Michael moved over sit on the same couch as his brother. The words seemed to sink in slowly as Lucifer stared back at him. 

“Wait, He spoke? To my son?” Lucifer asked. He might have been out of the Silver City for awhile, but even then it would have been unusual. 

“The evidence seems overwhelming. If anyone else was informed, I was kept out of the loop. You aren't there for any burning bushes, so apparently He had to do it Himself.” Michael put a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, squeezing it. “Nick described his robes, the hair, and more importantly the Divine feeling.”

Lucifer downed his drink and got out a cigarette, lighting it with a shaky hand. “What did dear old Dad have to say?”

“Well, he apparently wanted to just meet Nick. That is what he said at first. He told him that he was growing up well,” Michael said. This would hurt Lucifer either way, and Michael wanted to curse their father for making him the bearer of the news. He couldn't make Nikc do it. At least Lucifer could rage against Michael without worry. “Luce, he didn't want to hurt your son. He said he was proud of him.”

“It’s no thanks to Him!” Lucifer said, furiously glaring at the ceiling. “I would have stayed, never given him up, if Amenadiel hadn't dragged me away.”

“He did tell you that Father never told him to, didn't he?” Michael asked quietly. 

“Then why didn't he stop it! If he cares so much, why did he let my brother threaten my son to make me leave?” Lucifer said, grabbing the empty glass from the table and throwing it at the wall. 

“I don't know, Luce.” Michael knew Lucifer was furious, and he felt some of it as well. He did the only thing he could think of, which was wrapping an arm around Lucifer's shoulders like when they were younger. “I wish I had an answer to why he let all of this happen.”

Lucifer stilled at the contact before relaxing into it. His eyes were wet as he thought of the years he missed out on. How he would see him once and the next time he came back, Nick was walking then talking then reading. He missed every milestone in his childhood, and apparently it was for nothing. Lucifer found himself crying into Michael's shoulder as his brother wrapped both arms around him. He never thought they would be this close, physically or emotionally, after the Fall. Michael wasn't sure what to do, other than share his brother's sorrow. The Warrior and the Venom of God were on a couch, both failing to hold in tears. 

“Nicholas thinks ‘Gramps’ is a good moniker,” Michael said when Lucifer's sobbing slowed. He gave a watery chuckle. 

“Why did He even come to tell Nick this? Why interrupt a fairly long run of not talking to anyone, let alone humans, to say he is proud of my son?” Lucifer asked. “I mean, the wanker should be. Anyone should be proud of Nick, but he certainly never felt the need to tell us before.”

“Luce, I honestly don't know how to say this. Just wait until I’m finished, then we can rage at the sky or break everything in here. But just wait,” Michael said carefully. Lucifer sat up, knowing this would be big. “He told Nick that…I don't know, he basically regrets what happened to you. No regrets, the whole plan thing, blah blah, but he doesn't like seeing you in pain. He told Nick that you love him and always have, and being away was never your choice. I think he was trying to push him to stay here. He promised things would get better soon. And your son, your beautiful, too clever and caring for this world son, asked how He could hurt you like He did.”

“Oh, Nick,” Lucifer said, looking ready to run into the boy’s bedroom and grab him just to prove he’s real. 

“Dad did his thing, made some parable. But he said that he couldn't admit it to you because…he’s scared?”

Michael watched emotions flicker across Lucifer's face. Anger, sadness, confusion, more anger, then resolution. Michael was out of things to say, and it would have been a lot easier if Father just popped down and made it clearer. 

“It had to be some kind of joke. Because I thought I heard those words before, and it was all a big game. He didn't answer me then, so why would he show up unannounced to my son and say them? Why not me? Why not just pop in right here, right now?” Lucifer said, voice gradually getting louder until he was shouting at the sky. Michael wished there was an answer. 

“Would it help if we break everything in here?” Michael asked. He was always much more an angel of action than words. 

“I’m not going to destroy my penthouse for him. I've already lost enough. I lost my family, my home, and then I wasn't even allowed to be with my son. His entire childhood, I stayed away worried Dad would do something. Now He’s apparently been watching and wishes it were different? I can't, Michael.”

“Do you want to talk to Nick right now? Because he is standing at his door and is very concerned,” Michael said quietly. Lucifer nodded slowly, picking himself up and heading to his son’s room. 

Whatever conversation they had, Michael did not make himself privy to. Lucifer deserved time with his son. Michael didn't dare touch the piano, so he went to the library to look over the books. He recognized some of the more ancient ones, marveling that Lucifer would keep them. There appeared to be an entire section of first editions with signed thanks from the author. There was a statue to the left of the bookcases that he hadn't noticed before, and Michael chuckled when he realized what it was. Granted, it didn't look like his brother, but it was a fairly attractive sculpture. Unless Lucifer sported longer hair at some point, which he doubted, this hadn't been modeled off him. Of course Lucifer would still appreciate the detail, and most likely, the controversy. 

“Geefs original. The one his brother did was better, but it is still in the church. This one, well, I had to have it if a bishop said I was too sublime,” Lucifer said, leaning on the wall behind Michael. 

“Vanity was always one of your issues, brother,” Michael said with a smile. 

“If you desire your own collection, I hear there is a wonderful gold statue in Germany. The dragon looks nothing like me, but you are quite angelic.”

“I know you are joking, Luce, but I don't want anything glorifying that.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, both lost in thought. Michael was remembering the blood on Lucifer's side from his own sword. The sound of his wings cracking. He hoped Lucifer wasn't thinking of the same thing. Lucifer would be right to never let him here, to never want to see him again. Of course, in the biggest twist of human history, Lucifer was the most empathetic of them all. He held grudges, but they were small compared to what was done to him. Holier-than-thou Gabriel could take a few notes. 

“How is Nicholas?” Michael asked, trying to shake away the thoughts.

“He’ll be okay. I don't think either of us can really come to terms with the idea that I could have been there for him all along. I thought I got an apology from Dad before, and it wasn't real. I don't know how to believe it,” Lucifer admitted. 

“Maybe you don't right now. Maybe we just go back down there, have dinner with your son, and ignore all the celestial stuff for a little while?” Michael said. 

“Finally, a good plan. It only took you eons,” Lucifer joked, leading the way.