Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the beginning, God created the Heaven and the Earth. 

But even before God created the Earth, God created the archangels. 

Their voices helped shape the first light, and their footsteps helped carve the first sky. Their loyalty was meant to last eternity. Until the day one of them vanished from Heaven’s choir, the angels left to learn just how easily forever can break. 

And now, many millennia after his fall, Lucifer has finally been allowed to return to the golden kingdom he once called home. Where he was once called brother. In all it’s impossible brilliance, despite the recent rebellion and centuries upon centuries of war and hardships he’s endured. 

Unchanged, but somehow new, as if the holy lands refuse to acknowledge how he inadvertently knocked in their front gate. Only Lucifer has changed, and he feels it first in the bristle of his wings at looking at the realm that cast him out and tries so hard to forget him. 

If only he could forget... 

“Charlie!” Lucifer tries to let himself relax a little bit, if only a little, at seeing the little seraphim launch herself at the best thing he can see in heaven at this moment. Charlie’s laughter and smiles always make life easier for him. “I’m so happy to see you!” 

At least Charlie is excited to be here. For Lucifer, he hates how easily his body remembers this place, a traitorous thing. Remembers how bright everything is, how the air smells sweet and sanctity. Like you’re breathing in sunlight. 

Although when Lucifer looks past his cane, his shadow casts across the perfect marbled road beneath his boots. A smirk curls across his lips at how intrusive and muted it looks compared to Charlie’s or Emily’s. As if Heaven recognizes who he is, what he is, and is trying to recoil away from him. 

Some things don’t change. 

“Wow! It’s so much livelier than the last time I visited!” Charlie chirps as Emily flitters in front of her; all smiles and happiness just like the rest of the angels Lucifer can see further down the road. Well, the ones that don’t see him and recognize him based on the way they clap hands over their mouths, whisper to each other as they stare or turn tail and run. 

At least he’s still respected, if only out of fear because he’s the Morningstar. “Everyone’s excited about the celebration today! Sera accidentally scheduled your visitors' passes during the biggest celebration of the millennia! Aren’t you lucky!” Lucifer raises a brow at the little seraphim as she leads them down the white and gold streets, using her distraction to try to ignore the way his traitorous mind tries to bring back memories of the last time he was here. 

The way the golden city stretches out around him, contrasting against him, feels like salt on a very old wound he would much rather keep closed and ignored. 

“What celebration?” Lucifer asks, rolling his eyes when he notices the winners and angels around on the street gasping and pointing at him now that they’ve heard him speak. 

“Ooh! Do we have time to see it? Does Sera need to see us right away?” Lucifer’s lips can’t help but curl into a smile at his darling apple’s excitement. Despite the fact he’s in the one place in creation he hoped to never see again, that he was told he’d never be allowed again, at least his daughter is excited. He’ll try to keep his focus on her, instead of the whispers of memories at the back of his mind. 

“Sera is there right now actually! I’m sure she won’t mind us meeting her at the Halo Concourse.” Lucifer’s wings bristle immediately at the name. Of course, because this trip back to the realm that cast him out couldn’t be hard enough. Now he has to go to the doorstep of his old home? 

Lucifer catches the way Charlie looks at him out of the corner of his eye, no doubt worried because of the angels pointing at him and whispering. So, he takes a deep breath, steels his nerves, and forces his wings to calm down. “I’m sure you’ll love it, Char Char. Quite a sight to see compared to ol’ Pentagram!” Despite his reluctance to be here, Lucifer can’t deny how much nicer Heaven is than the dark pit that is his punishment. 

“Dad, that’s our home...” Ehh.... “Do you mind if we go see this celebration before our meeting with Sera? This isn’t...” Lucifer flashes a reassuring grin at his daughter, despite how he feels like his nerves are fraying further with each step further into Heaven. 

“I’m fine, sweetie. Don’t worry about me, just enjoy yourself.” At least one of them can hopefully enjoy this dreadful visit... 

Charlie stares back at him for a moment longer, before nodding as if accepting his reassurance. If only he could reassure himself about being back here as easily as he reassures his daughter... “They won’t mind us stopping by to see, right?” Charlie asks Emily instead as Lucifer lets his eyes wander. 

Let's himself take in the banners about love adorning the streets of Ascension Square. The rainbow of color among the gold and ivory buildings. Hear the chirping of happiness on the breeze that’s so unlike his prison down far below here. Hell, he even lets himself watch the angels that don’t see him continue living their happy, happy lives. Until they notice him, then it looks as if someone’s dumped scalding water on their wings before they turn and fly off with fear bristling their feathers. 

Will Heaven ever change? “Come on!” Lucifer yelps as he’s suddenly seized by a sleeve by the little seraphim. Well, Emily is certainly unlike the other seraphim he knew before his fall. 

Lucifer barely has time to notice all the pointing and staring at himself and his daughter this time as Emily all but drags them through the streets. Drags them towards that glittering ivory palace in the distance that holds some of his worst memories of Heaven. It feels like an itch in the back of his mind just thinking about what he endured there, something he can’t quite scratch. But he can ignore it to focus on Charlie’s laughter at Emily’s excitement. 

Although, when Emily drags them past a banner, Lucifer’s eyes barely catch the familiar blue, white and gold that he wishes he could forget. It starts a fire in his chest, just thinking about that pompous prick, but he shoves the feeling down quickly. 

Except he doesn’t stand a chance when Emily stops just at the edge of the Halo Concord, and he’s greeted with his twin brother’s annoying fucking face on a banner at the entrance. But Lucifer’s eyes lift instead to the archway, where a banner proclaiming a six thousand anniversary hangs proudly. He got married? Around the same time he was cast out of Heaven? Around when he himself was married to Lilith? 

When he was falling? When he was suffering? His own fucking twin was celebrating?! “Fucking Michael...” Lucifer’s eyes widen when Charlie and Emily both look at him, sucking his inner fire back down painfully as he recognizes the concern in Charlie’s eyes and confusion in Emily’s. 

“You knew Prince Michael, King Morningstar?” And there’s gasping again from the flock of angels flying past them, even a short break in the bang playing nearby, at hearing the oh so horrible Morningstar has returned. “Today is his anniversary, are you--” 

“It’s fine! I’m fine!” Lucifer’s lying through his teeth, and he knows Charlie knows him better based off the unimpressed look in her crimson eyes, but he doesn’t pull back in his forced smile. “I was an archangel too, you know, Emily. One of the first. The rest were my family.” His traitorous family... His family that let him be cast out, his twin that THREW him out! 

Breathe. Relax. Today isn’t about his brother, today is about helping his precious daughter. He’s here for Charlie; he only cares about Charlie. His brother’s anniversary means nothing to him. Despite how it scratches at the back of his mind like a rusty nail. 

“Dad, we don’t have to--” 

“I’m okay, Charlie. I’m not going to deny you a chance to see more of the place you’re working so hard to send sinners to.” Lucifer still doesn’t see why they’d want to come here to begin with. “Sera’s inside, isn’t she? Let’s go find her.” Although, turning his eyes back towards the marble columns and arches adorned with banners and wreaths and streamers, hearing the chorus of angelic singing and bands and cheering that sits at the bottom of that ivory palace that felt more like a cage at times than home to him, pricks at his nerves further. 

He can do this. Lucifer knows he can endure; he’s endured far worse in his life than potentially awkwardly seeing his former family. His priority is his true family, his precious daughter. Stamping his cane on the marbled road beneath them, Lucifer takes the first step this time, letting Emily and Charlie walk beside him instead of hiding like a bitch behind them. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?!” Lucifer can’t argue with Emily, despite his history here. Bands and choirs float on the edges of the Halo Concord, filling the air with song. Tables line the edges of the marble paths, filled with gourmet food that wafts its delicious smells on the wind towards him. And all the angels and winners mingling and dancing look like they’re living the best day of their life. 

It’s beautiful, and it’s painful to witness, because it just reminds Lucifer how ugly his prison is compared to his former home. No matter what he’s done to fix it, make it a home, Hell can never compare to God’s palace or it’s courtyard in heaven. 

Feathers drift past Lucifer’s vision as Emily guides him and Charlie in further, the golden light catching on them during their fall and illuminating them beautifully. But even amidst this bright happiness, there’s always going to be shadows. Unfortunately, Lucifer notices the way the music stutters for a moment; the band's players staring wide-eyed his way as even dancing and flying angels seem to freeze mid-air at his presence. 

Maybe it wasn’t the brightest decision to walk into his long-lost twin brother’s anniversary celebration. “That’s the Morningstar!” Maybe he should have told Sera he’d attend this meeting through a hologram... 

“Children of the light, I welcome you!” Lucifer’s hand nearly breaks the apple top of his cane as lightning knifes down his spine, between his hidden wings. The courtyard—alive with whispers—falls silent as if holding its breath like he is. “Let joy fill your hearts—on this day of harmony and love, none stand alone!” 

Lucifer turns to Charlie first; watches the way she stares up in the direction of that voice that’s haunted his nightmares for six millennia. Notices the way every angel’s head tilts upwards around them, towards the glowing light above that lights the marble path beneath his boots up like stars. 

A soft shimmer ripples through the air as white feathers—tinged with gold and blue—drift lazily downward, catching the light of the cloud descending beneath Michael. He stands atop it in all his perfection, a warm, glowing smile radiating from his blue eyes outward. His ivory coattails flare like ribbons of sunlight; the gold filigree along their edges glinting proudly. Even the sky-blue vest beneath—soft and elegant as its wearer—gleams as he steps off the cloud with practiced ease. 

Michael touches down in the center of the Concord with gentle, almost reverent precision; black boots barely making a sound as those six perfect white, gold and blue wings flare before folding perfectly behind his back. Smiling that calm, impossibly warm smile that Heaven has loved for ages. That smile that lesser angels would fall over their feet to see cast their way. And with one look, Lucifer feels that old, familiar burn of perfection. His twin looks unchanged—untouched. Far unlike himself. 

The crowd erupts with cheers and joyous shrieks that nearly break Lucifer’s eardrums, but all he can focus on is his brother as Michael brushes a gloved hand through his perfect blond locks and smiles and laughs back at the masses. That same fingerless-gloved hand—now adorned with a brilliant gold band—lowers to press against his heart as he bows to the crowd. “Peace be with you all. Your joy today is a blessing not only upon my anniversary, but upon Heaven itself.” Even his grandiose charm hasn’t changed… 

“Dad?” Lucifer barely glances toward his daughter—barely claws his way back to the present—as old memories threaten to surface at the edge of his vision. But his attention snaps back to his brother when a flourish of color blooms behind Heaven’s prince. Mimicking Michael’s bow, his younger brothers step forward out of the shimmer. 

Uriel, Raphael, and Gabriel. Dressed in modest suits matching their colors as well, how could Lucifer forget what felt like eons of being forced to color coordinate because Michael said so? He doesn’t miss it, not for a second. “Today, we welcome you to join us in a celebration of love!” Lucifer’s eyes drift back to the cloud Michael descended from, catching sight of his other siblings emerging. 

Chamuel—naturally, the Archangel of Love—wears robes instead of a suit; the ivory fabric stamped with red and pink hearts and wings as Jophiel and Ariel flank him. Someone’s missing... Who— 

“Emily!” In the rush of seeing his siblings again, Lucifer had forgotten they were here in search of the high seraphim. He’s only reminded because she blocks his view of Ariel and Jophiel dancing beside Chamuel on that cloud. “What are you doing here?” Huh, even the highest seraphim doesn’t want him here. Even while the rest of the Concord has returned to jubilation, someone still sees him as a stain. 

“Charlie asked to see the celebration!” Emily takes Sera out of Lucifer’s view, letting him see that her nervousness at him being at his twin’s anniversary has reminded others of his presence. Sharp edges begin to take over the beauty of the celebration, ripple outwards. First one angel goes deathly still, then another points his way, another cowers inside their wings. 

The dread-filled eyes burn Lucifer, if he wasn’t painfully used to this reaction to his presence. He keeps his chin held high, eyes perfectly bored as he’s practiced. Six thousand years, he won’t let them see how their fear and disgust of him pricks at his skin like needles. 

But Lucifer’s eyes snap back to his twin at a burst of laughter, just in time to watch the confusion sharpen in his previously jovial gaze—right before those blue eyes snap to him for the first time in what feels like a lifetime. As if he sensed his very presence in his little bubble of perfection. 

And Lucifer can’t help the smirk that curls over his lips, despite how his very soul feels like it’s being held beneath freezing water at seeing his brother for the first time in over six thousand years. Because even after all this time, he still recognizes the subtle bristle of Michael’s wings—so small no one else would notice, except a twin. Notices the way Michael’s once warm gaze turns icy. 

Aw, where’s the familiar nostalgia? Does big brother really not miss him? 

Lucifer only takes his eyes off Michael because Sera’s harsh whisper breaks the tension like a knife. But suddenly, a warm breeze flows through the courtyard—like a lullaby—every tense wing shivering in response, even his own. Even the music falters—only to fix itself to a new song, perfectly unified. 

Lucifer feels the breeze brush across his skin, familiar and warm and soothing the needle-pricks he’s felt since his arrival. A salve to the burn that Heaven has left on him that never truly healed—shouldn't heal. A warm shiver ripples down his spine as laughter teases at the edge of his mind, something ancient and familiar he can’t quite place. His breath hitches—barely—before he can contain himself and bury these feelings. 

“Sera... my dear, you’re trembling. Let me hold the fear for you.” It’s as if a warm blanket wraps the Concord. 

The crowd exhales in unison, hands pressing to hearts as wings across the courtyard unfurl and smooth on their own. Even Lucifer’s wings—traitorous things—relax, while his free hand presses hard against his stuttering heart. 

That voice strikes him like a bell in his very soul, his hand clenching at his vest to try to calm himself. And then the laughter returns—clearer now—calling his old, forsaken name in that warm, lilting tone he almost remembers. His knee nearly buckles; he catches himself with his cane, breath sharp. He tries to shake it off, but its pull clings to him like a memory refusing to die. 

A soft prism of color ignites behind Sera—slow at first, then blooming outwards like sunlight through crystal. The light ripples, the way a curtain being drawn aside would. And from that shimmering prism of color, she appears as if she was always there, just watching—waiting. 

“Archangel of Synchronicity.” Sera whispers as Lucifer feels as though his world is tilting. The laughter that had echoed in his mind fuses with the serene, achingly familiar face smiling down at Sera, slamming into his chest like some ancient revelation that was long forgotten or burned from memory. The angelic name she whispered in his mind clings to him like a ghost—and seeing her makes it real. 

How could he forget her? 

“Breathe with me, Sera. Let the discord pass through you, not cling to you and drag you down.” She holds a hand towards Sera, still floating among the swirling rainbow of colors that match her wings. Those six, fluffy, multicolored wings spark memories he didn’t know he still carried—glimpses of chasing their soft glow through Heaven long before the Fall. “Let discord move through us, not settle in us. Today belongs to love and unity.” 

“Harmony is here!” Another clap to Lucifer’s chest at hearing one of his siblings call that nickname he hasn’t thought of in eons. Synchronicity is far too formal. He can even hear the chirping of that day in the back of his mind, amidst the return of cheering angels. 

And the smile she gives as Sera lets her squeeze her hand, as she turns her eyes on the surrounding crowd, sends another wave of warmth fluttering through the air to sooth any chances of tension remaining. Lucifer’s chest aches, and he’s unsure if it’s because of his guilt over forgetting his former friend, or because of the way Gabriel and Ariel and Jophiel descend on their Harmony with cheers and whoops of laughter as they all but throw her into the air above them. 

This time, the singing returns with his siblings first, Ariel and Jophiel belting into song the way he remembers his sisters always used to. “♪Before you came into my life, everything was black and white♪!” 

“♪Now all I see is color—like a rainbow in the sky♪!” It quickly overtakes the rest of his siblings, Chamuel and Gabriel joining the women as they lead their Harmony into the center of the courtyard where Michael’s still stood. But the way Michael looks at her, the way his entire being seems to ignite as he reaches a hand towards her, relights a fire under Lucifer’s heart. 

What is that? Why is he looking at her that way? “♪So, tell me your love will never fade. That I won’t see no clouds of grey♪.” The image of Michael reaching for their Harmony blinks across his vision, a memory long buried. Lucifer tries to bury it again as he straightens his posture and bites it down when she takes his twin’s hand, lets Michael pull her to him. 

“♪’Cause I don’t want another. You bring color to my life baby♪!” The courtyard erupts in chorus that drowns out his siblings, fortunately. But Lucifer doesn’t join; he can’t when he watches Michael dip her with a hand to the waist, sees the way her face lights up in a smile as Michael leads her in a dance as they sing together. Ignores his very existence, the same way the rest of the Concord does. 

Even his daughter is dancing, Emily pulling her into the throng, leaving Lucifer to stand and watch on the sidelines. The outcast, as Heaven always makes him to be. Left to watch the way his once best friend’s ivory robes swish and swirl as Michael twirls her and her wings arc like rainbows around them. Radiant. Perfect. Untouched, unlike himself. 

But then she turns, a sweep of her eyes across the sea of singing, celebrating angels. Still smiling, still shining—glowing as she looks out at the happiness surrounding her. When her jovial gaze reaches him, Lucifer pulls himself taller without meaning to, breath hitching as her eyes lock onto his. 

Lucifer finally lets go of his vest, instead lifting a tentative hand toward his former best friend in a small, uncertain wave. His lips curl into the faintest smile. But it unfreezes her, and Lucifer watches as that smile on her lips fractures just the slightest. Sees the way the rainbow of colors flickers around her, dims for a moment with an uneven pulse as her wings miss a beat in their sweep. A single wing trembling out of sync from the rest, before correcting itself in a flash. 

She inhales sharply. Lucifer couldn’t hope to hear it, but he feels it in his chest—feels it in the way her body stiffens against Michael’s guiding hands, for the first time in the celebration no longer moving with the music. Her eyes don’t flit away the way others have always done. They stay locked on him, irises shimmering with a sea of emotion he can’t read. 

The fractures in her harmony deepen, and it pains Lucifer. Her smile collapses for half a second, into something raw and shaken as the shine in her bright eyes dims. As if someone’s stolen the sun from her midday sky. But his former best friend’s lips part, and he doesn’t need to hear her to know exactly which name escapes them. “Sam—” 

His former name earns the reaction of the man holding her though, Michael’s body stiffening beside hers. His wings tensing, twitching so subtly he barely notices, before one curls around the woman as if to hug her. Reignites that flame in Lucifer’s chest, especially when he watches Michael’s hand lift to cup her cheek, brush a thumb down her cheek to rest against her lip. 

Lucifer’s eyes focus on that golden band on his brother’s hand for a moment too long, because when his eyes flicker back up to Michael whispering to their harmony, he sees her lift a hand and fist it against his bicep. Notices the glimmer of gold on her hand, on the same finger his own wedding band sits. Where Michael’s wedding band sits. Something detonates in his chest. The apple atop his cane cracks beneath his tightening grip. 

A hand tugging at his sleeve pulls Lucifer from the sight, looking over in time to see Charlie’s concerned face fill his vision instead of the painful sight of his twin with his former friend. But he can’t help but look back at them, just in time to see her step back from his brother’s embrace. That smile, once so happy and warm, looks wrong this time. 

Strained at the edges—trembling—as he watches it waver between perfection and reality for a moment too long while Michael speaks to her. But she bows her head to him, lets Michael kiss her on the forehead before she steps around him. She slips around the dancing bodies, her rainbow magic swirling gently to hide her as she drifts toward the ivory palace. 

No one notices, too busy enjoying the festivities. Even Michael doesn’t focus on it too long, taking Jophiel by the arm to dance instead. But Lucifer does. And he hears Charlie beside him, quietly asking Emily about the woman who just fled. 

“No, that—something's wrong. I can feel it, like someone plucked the wrong note in the symphony.” Out of sync, lacking harmony. At least Emily’s good at her job as a seraphim. “I—I haven’t even met her yet, but… I’ll check on her before we leave with Sera!” 

Charlie’s hand tightens against Lucifer’s sleeve. “Dad? Did you know her? You looked like you’d seen a ghost.” Lucifer’s eyes finally leave the crowd, stop trying to find the woman who disappeared, to meet Charlie’s pinched brows of confusion. His head feels fuzzy, chest achingly empty, as if something he lost just tugged back. 

Lucifer opens his mouth, tries to reassure his daughter’s worry, but he can’t. Even through his own swirling confusion, he only knows one thing with certainty. His boot is already taking a step forward, and his cane stamping onward towards the ivory palace. “Stay close, Charlie.” 

The crossing of the Concord is rushed, but it feels like it freezes when Lucifer feels that icy gaze on him again just as he passes the median. His eyes snap to the side just as he passes the median—Michael has seen him. Seen him crossing toward their shared former home; a brow raised in that familiar, infuriating question. Lucifer’s lips curl into a smug smirk he doesn’t bother to hide before he turns back toward the palace and lengthens his stride Try to stop me, bitch. 

Emily gets the door for them, letting Lucifer step back into the building he hasn’t called home in over six thousand years. A burn crawls up his chest—a desperate urge to turn around and never return—but the tug pulling him after the once-harmonious archangel is stronger. And even if he can’t remember much, even if he’s spent millennia burying everything connected to this place, his body knows the path. 

It feels emptier than he remembered, with the way the gold and ivory walls echo the stamp of his cane or their footsteps back to them. Far too clean, far too perfect. Far too Michael... “Do you know where to go, King Morningstar?” Emily’s voice even feels far too loud here, in these perfectly controlled halls. 

Lucifer’s stride ends at a door adorned in a cascade of rainbow hues, each color matching one of the other archangels. Each stamped with their sigils—all but his own. But the door is cracked, and a breeze slips out, hitting him in the chest with the scent of warmth, fresh grass, summer rain. 

Enough to see the cracked golden gate beyond it—useless at hiding the garden behind it. Something that shouldn’t exist inside the perfectly maintained palace. Something out of place. The grass is soft beneath his boots when he steps off the perfect marble tiles onto it. The gate is cold as ice against his fingers when he presses it open the rest of the way. 

“What is this place?” Charlie whispers at his side, but Lucifer’s only able to focus on the way Emily glides past them. Through the gates, towards a lone tree near amidst tall grass. And Lucifer’s breath hitches when he sees why, finally sees the troubled archangel of synchronicity that fled her own anniversary. 

There’re whispers of doubt at the back of his mind, as Lucifer enters the garden. Worries that this is wrong, that she left because of him, that he’s a stain in her eyes the same way he is to the rest of Heaven. But the whispers silence when he gets close enough to hear her talking to herself. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay...” His heart pangs painfully off his ribs. 

Her bowed head suddenly lifts from her hands, trembling wings twitching out of sync before correcting as her gaze jerks toward Emily—Lucifer’s boots having frozen just too far away. “Archangel, I sensed your distress. Are you okay?” Emily asks while Lucifer watches the way his former friend’s harmony slams back into place like a mask. 

“I’m okay! There’s no need for worry, today is about harmony and l—” Lucifer’s breath catches in his throat when her eyes fall on him once more. 

Her breath collapses, as if the air were punched from her chest the way Lucifer felt earlier. Her wings jerk violently out of sync; the colors stuttering—fracturing—failing to hold their harmony. For a moment, Lucifer swears the garden tilts around her, falling out of sync with her. 

A trembling hand rises to her lips with a broken gasp. “...Samael?” 

That name hits him harder than the Fall. 

Chapter Text

Your breath stutters, but your body refuses to move—rooted in place as if the garden itself is holding you there. As if it’s making sure you see who’s standing within it. 

No. 

Not him. 

Your wings misfire out of sync; a sharp jolt snapping up your spine as you force yourself to look away from the phantom. Away, even as the garden ripples with a gentle breeze—as if trying to help you correct the lie. 

Instead, you turn your eyes back on the fluttering little seraphim whose face is full of concern. “You must be Emily—it's so wonderful to finally meet you.” With your gaze off the phantom of your past, the grass releases your feet, letting you float forward toward the youngling. “I promise, I’m okay. You should be celebrating; there’s no cause for concern with me.” 

Don’t let them see. 

Don’t let the world outside this enchanted garden know. 

“We didn’t mean to intrude, Archangel.” Your eyes flick away from Emily at the new voice, your wings stuttering for half a second. You look—quickly, carefully—past the phantom that still refuses to disappear before your gaze lands on the tall girl in a red pantsuit. 

Charlie Morningstar. You’ve only seen her through pictures and a swirling mirror that Michael shared with you during the recent turmoil with Hell attempting to uprise. Seeing her in person, how similar she is to him, hurts no less than through pictures or magic. 

“Princess Morningstar.” That word burns your lips on the way out, that name. The name connected to the man who still haunts you even eons after his fall. “It’s a pleasure to meet the woman who’s helping replace the discourse between Heaven and Hell with harmony.” 

“Harmony.” The world tilts on its axis around you, because the phantoms or hallucinations have never sounded that warm. That real. That...raw. 

And you slam your eyes shut—so tight it stings—try to contain yourself as your wings shudder out of sync at your back. But you hear your true name next, not the nickname he gave you a lifetime ago, and your eyes snap back open to see he’s still standing there. Still watching you. Your phantoms have never held your true name that way. 

“Please… Michael, don’t.” Your voice breaks softer than a breath. You can’t endure one of his tests today. Not after earlier. Not after seeing your long-lost friend’s face at your own anniversary to his twin— 

But Michael’s tricks don’t usually move towards you, and the phantoms your tortured mind creates never lets you get close before they vanish. It can’t be, can it? 

“Is it actually you?” 

“Who else would it be?” And they don’t answer you either, when you try to talk to them in vain of hoping to speak with Samael again. Don’t raise their brow in that infuriatingly smug way or quirk their lips in that charming smirk that a lifetime ago had angels blushing or fumbling with their words. 

Your practiced harmony fractures. First, in your wings, stalling mid-beat and letting you drop instead of floating—barely seeing, in your peripheral blur, the little seraphim and the princess of Hell lunge forward as if to catch you. But the hand that finds you is warm. Solid. Real. It closes around your elbow before your feet can touch the ground. 

No passage of time could ever make you forget how warm Samael always was. From his voice to his hands to the glow of his wings. “...No. No. You—you can’t be...” Samael isn’t allowed back. Michael told you himself — the Fallen can never return. 

He doesn’t argue with you. Doesn’t tell you he’s real. Doesn’t tell you you’re wrong. 

Instead, his fingers shift. Slowly slide down from your elbow, down your forearm until they find your hand. Warm. Solid. 

He turns your palm upward — hesitant, almost afraid — before guiding your hand to his chest. 

Right over where Samael’s grace and curiosity burned brightest, a heartbeat thrumming against your fingertips. Steady. Familiar. 

Alive. 

Your heart stutters, breath catching in your throat. Michael’s illusions don’t feel like this. Your hallucinations don’t have heartbeats. Nothing you could ever conjure to try to forget the ache in your chest has ever been this warm. 

“How…? Michael said you couldn’t— you wouldn’t ever come back, Sami…” 

“My memory might be going with my age,” he murmurs, his voice trembling just enough to mirror your own. “But I’m pretty sure we both know Michael was never able to tell me what I can and cannot do.” 

You swallow hard, throat tight with the hope you’ve spent the eons swallowing down with the bitter pill of reality. 

“Don’t... don’t make me believe this.” You whisper, wings stuttering painfully out of sync before you force them back into harmony. “I... I can’t. I—” Your gaze breaks from his when those red eyes soften with confusion… with concern. 

“What’s happened to you, little harmony?” You rip your trembling fingers from the heartbeat beneath them as if burned. It hurts to hear that name again — hurts worse that it comes from the one who brought it into being so long ago. 

For a heartbeat, you see Samael as he was; white and blue wings, grinning, hand outstretched to you as his laughter teases the air. But it’s gone as fast as it was there. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Archangel?” You take the chance to escape immediately, especially when you stare too long at the concern in his eyes, turning your eyes away from the man that can’t be here and instead to the little seraphim. “If you aren’t comfortable telling us, I can find Michael for—” 

“No!” No! You can’t let them interrupt your husband’s day. He’s worked so hard planning the festivities of the day, arranging it around everyone’s schedules so the virtues can be here with you archangels. “My husband is very busy, and I am okay, I promise!” The smile you flash the seraphim stings, feeling too forced, so you turn back to the garden to return to calming yourself. 

Behind you, you barely hear the faintest hitch of breath, your frantic heart trying it’s hardest to ignore it, so you can focus on fixing your harmony. 

“Wouldn’t your husband be worried for you?” Your eyes turn away from the tranquil pond you’re ready to fly towards, landing on Princess Morningstar as she easily keeps pace with your footsteps. “I know if something was bothering my girlfriend, I’d want to know so I can try to help her.” 

“I’m the archangel of synchronicity. I maintain the balance and harmony here in Heaven, Princess Morningstar. I am in balance, I am—” 

“Your wings keep stuttering out of sync, and the colors of harmony on your wings keep dimming.” Your feet freeze in the grass again, as if something unseen is holding you still — forcing you to hear him. “As your best friend, I never once saw you lose harmony with Heaven’s rhythm before my fall.” 

“Dad... she was your best friend?” You spin around immediately, because no one has ever acknowledged your phantoms before. Michael’s visions, your hallucinations — they were always yours alone. 

“You see him?” Charlie Morningstar looks the slightest bit scared, and your inner harmony is screaming at you to contain yourself and correct. Reassure her, comfort her, don’t let her slip. No one else can slip... 

Does that mean... “Archangel.” Your hand is taken into the small palm of the seraphim as she floats beside you, guides your eyes to her reassuring eyes. “I’m so sorry for whatever has happened to you to leave you in this state, but King Morningstar is real. Did you not feel him against your hand as you feel my palm in yours?” 

Yes, you felt the thrumming heartbeat beneath your fingers. But... Samael’s not allowed back; he’s gone, and... 

“Feel me.” Emily squeezes your hand with that gentle, earnest smile only a young seraphim could manage, then gestures around you with her free hand. “Feel the warm breeze on your skin. The grass at your feet.” You inhale slowly. Let yourself feel the way the air moves—soft, warm, familiar. Let the scent of fresh grass and summer rain drift through you, washing against the edges of your frayed nerves like a tide trying to pull you back into reality. 

You inhale again, letting yourself take an extra moment to steady your balance. 

“Everything around you is real.” 

But if she’s right, if everything is real, then that also means... But Michael... 

“And so is he.” Emily’s words land softly, but the world tilts anyway when she directs your gaze back to the man Michael swore Heaven would never allow to return. 

“I don’t… I don’t know how…” You draw your trembling hand back from Emily and press it to your aching chest. “It’s been six thousand years. I want to believe—I’m trying to—but…” 

“You don’t have to believe it right now, harmony.” Your heart clenches at his nickname for you once more leaving his lips. “I’m trying to understand this too, why I forgot so much before crossing the gates again.” Samael had perfect memory for the things that mattered; it couldn’t be. “Just believe that I’m here now. That I’m here with you.” 

Your eyes zero in on his hand as he holds it out towards you. Charcoal skin so unlike Samael’s pale, ivory hands. Ring finger adorned with a wedding band, when Samael never wore jewelry in all your time of knowing him. 

Shaking, you reach for his outstretched hand. You’re not prepared for the warmth that meets your palm — too real, too alive. Your fragile heart stutters, terrified to hope. Terrified to believe it’s truly him after all this time. 

His fingers tighten around yours—steady and warm. They spread his warmth through your fingers, up your arm, into the hollow ache between your ribs. A place left with far too little warmth since Samael’s fall and rise as Lucifer Morningstar. 

Your wings stutter. Your perfect, harmonious mask cracks. Your breath painfully catches in your throat. 

“...Samael?” 

The moment his name—his former name—leaves your lips, your mask shatters. Everything inside you shatters. 

Especially when your vision splits. And for a heartbeat, you see two of him. Lucifer, as he is now. And Samael, as he was when you knew him. Face splitting grin and white and blue wings spread out at his back. 

They fold into one another. Become present, the same soul in the warm body standing in front of you. The same warmth in his face. 

The air in your lungs collapses with a painful gasp. You sway forward, fingers tightening against the hand beneath yours before your knees buckle. 

“Easy—easy!” “You tip forward, catching yourself against your long-lost best friend’s chest as his hand tightens around yours.” Your knees finally give, and you’re not sure if it’s the girls nearby who gasp or you or your friend. 

But you don’t hit the ground. Lucifer catches you, arm warm around your waist as brilliant white and red wings fan around you as if they’re trying to shield you. As if he’s trying to hide your loss of harmony and balance for you. 

“I’ve got you.” His breath is warm against your temple, voice cracking with as much emotion as your own chest is overflowing with. “I’ve got you, I’m here.” 

Your fingers fist weakly at the fabric of his coat, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Instead, your nose is filled with the smell of expensive cologne, burning wood that brings memories of a summer bonfire, and something sweet. Sugary almost like syrup. 

Even his smell has changed. When you knew Samael, he always smelled wild. Like fresh air, smoky which you always knew was because of his affinity for explosive magic, flowers which you later learned was because of his excursions to the garden. 

“Your harmony is stabilizing, archangel. I never saw anyone’s magic do that before, are you sure you’re okay?” Emily asks nearby, but you can’t find the strength to lift your face from Sami’s coat. 

“This garden is reactive to archangel magic. Michael designed it so. He made sure it can contain my magic or amplify it if the gate is left open.” Made sure that the rest of Heaven wouldn’t have to hear or feel your pain for the last six thousand years. That the only ones who would know would be your immediate family. 

“Weren’t you waiting for Sera?” Samael—Lucifer finally speaks up. His voice still sounds full of emotion, but you recognize the familiar way in which he tries to swallow it down. He used to do that a lot, especially when overwhelmed by being left out of things during the great expansion. 

“Oh! She might be looking for us!” You don’t see Sera that often anymore; she’s been far too busy since you essentially traded off a lot of your balancing duties to her at Michael’s request. But Emily has far more energy than the older angel. 

“Are you gonna stay with her, dad?” 

“I’ll catch up with you both when I can.” He’s staying with you? 

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but Sera needed to speak with you about… well… the incident with the last golden gate.” You remember that, you remember the attack that shook the entirety of the heavenly realms. 

But mainly you remember it because you recognized what was coming before it smashed through the gate—through dozens of buildings—before the dust had even settled. How could you not recognize his magic? 

Last month, for minutes too long, you allowed yourself to be hopeful. You thought, Samael’s finally returning. He’s smashing in the gates the way he used to smash through any obstacles that got in his way during early creation. 

Michael was the one who reminded you of reality, grounding you to the truth. But... But he’s here right now, so... 

“It’s fine, we have a day here. She can talk to you two while she waits for me.” 

“Samael—” 

“It’s… uh… it’s Lucifer now. Or Luci. Lu. Just—” He doesn’t want to go by Samael anymore. But why? He never had issues with his name in the past. Is it because Heaven refused to refer to him as anything but the Morningstar after his fall? Is he owning it instead of standing by the truth? 

You pull your face away from Sam—Lucifer's chest in time to see him nodding towards his daughter and Emily. “Alright, we’ll see you in a bit.” Your chest had only just begun to ache—over how he’s so achingly familiar and painfully different, but the ache lessens as you watch Charlie practically grab Emily and drag her towards the gates. 

You see her father in her. 

It’s only once the gates slam, the metal clanging loudly through the garden, that Lucifer clears his throat and turns his gaze back on you with a nervous glimmer in his red eyes. “So... How’ve you been?” 

You blink back at the man in front of you, at how after six thousand years that’s one of the first questions he has for you. How awkward, and cheesy, and downright dorky that question sounded on the man all of Heaven considers the vilest being in creation. 

And you laugh. Because some things will never change in your long-lost best friend. 

Your wings stutter behind you as Lucifer chuckles nervously, and it takes you a moment to realize they’re not stuttering because of him this time. 

You find your balance, pushing yourself away from your fallen friend as his chuckle breaks. “What’s—” 

“Michael’s coming.” You always know. Your magic knows. The garden knows. “You... You can’t be here. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 

“Please. You think I don’t see how this is a bubble outside of Heaven itself? My little bitch of a brother—” 

“No—no, Michael made this place for us. Not even the seraphim are allowed here, you need to go, or—or hide, or something!” You flap your wings, feathers all fixing themselves into perfect balance as your robes smooth out. 

Lucifer stares back at you for a moment too long, your nerves sparking over what could happen if your husband finds him here, before sighing through his nose in that way you remember. The way he always did when he had more he wanted to say but knew better than to argue. “I’m not leaving, but I’ll hide somewhere nearby. Just call out to me when he’s gone.” 

“What, no, that’s not—” Lucifer doesn’t give you a chance to argue, a flourish of red magic swirling up around him before disappearing with a poof of sparks. Your heart slams into your ribs, because all you can think of for a moment is how long before you see your long-lost friend this time. 

But a cool breeze rushes through the garden, your wings propelling you forward instinctually towards the gates just in time. The door on the other side swings open, and your heart stutters when Michael gracefully steps inside. 

You lift your hands and fold them together inside your sleeves, take a deep breath to steady your balance and smile at your husband despite the whirlwind of feelings in your chest. “Michael.” 

“I sensed your distress, my dear.” The gates swing shut with a bat of Michael’s perfect wings, and he reaches towards you as you hesitate to give him your hand. “Did your moment of reprieve not calm your nerves as we’d hoped?” 

“It was... a bit too much for me.” You only truly showed up for the celebration earlier because you sensed the shuddering harmony. Michael had requested you to come, as you tend to stay away from big celebrations. 

“How are you now?” You give your hand to your husband, shuddering at the chill of his skin against your own. Despite how warm and approachable he looks in his anniversary suit, he feels as if he’s visited a tundra. “I’m sorry for the chill, the breeze has gotten a bit nippy out there.” 

You just smile and restrain yourself from mentioning how his hands are always cold. “You didn’t need to leave your celebration for me, dear.” 

“It is our celebration, my harmony. Not just mine. I wish you would stay by my side longer. Let all of Heaven witness the harmony of our everlasting union.” Michael’s face melts into sincerity, as he cradles your hand in his much larger one. 

If only his actions held as much passion as his words. Instead, he is content sitting and waiting for his orders as the holy prince. No interest in going out and seeing creation, seeing the universe guided by the holy father, when there’s a chance he’ll be needed. 

“Did someone upset you? You left so soon upon your arrival.” Michael knew his twin was there? The way his gaze sharpens, his blue eyes trying to read you, tells you enough. But why didn’t he tell you before you left? 

“No, of course not. It was just a bit too overstimulating. You know how sensitive I can be to the balance of others.” You did after all show up because you felt the anxiety of the crowd. You just didn’t know it was because of Sam—Lucifer. 

“My precious wife.” Michael takes both of your hands into his now. “Of course, you’ve always been so... delicate.” You offer a smile back at Michael, despite feeling as if he’s insulting your intuitiveness. But he wouldn’t do that; he’s always told you how important the harmony and balance of heaven is. That your job is vital. 

Michael’s gaze leaves you to drift across the garden, and your heart thumps your ribs. You pull his attention back with a squeeze of his hand. “Thank you for reassuring me that it was alright for me to leave earlier, darling. I’m so sorry I didn’t stay longer.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Michael reassures you before lifting your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your hand. “You know I only want to protect you, my harmony.” 

“I know, but there’s no need to protect me from our family.” There isn’t a soul in heaven who would wish ill on you. And despite the passage of time, you feel no fear towards Lucifer as the rest of heaven instills in others. 

“I also want to protect you from your own mind, darling. I know how your thoughts can wonder, how your eyes can play tricks.” Please don’t let the supposed man hiding in your garden be some elaborate trick... 

“Michael—” 

“With these current times, I have much more to protect you from. Like things that don’t belong here in Heaven.” Michael’s hands squeeze yours just the slightest bit tighter, and your heart clenches at his words. 

That... can’t be true. Its god’s will that allows a soul past the gates. Be they a winner or a repentant, they belong as soon as they arrive outside the gates. There couldn’t possibly be anyone who doesn’t belong, right? 

Lucifer somehow visiting after his banishment, it must be for a reason, right? 

“Darling, don’t think too much on my words. I can see the gears turning behind your eyes.” Michael lets go of one of your hands to reach for your face, guiding you into his chest to try to quell your thoughts as he’s done for the eons since your marriage began. 

A breeze blows past you, brushing against your robes softly as if to caress you. You steady your breath, calming your thoughts, before the slam of the door beyond the gates startles you and your husband based on the way his hand jerks against the back of your neck. 

That wasn’t... 

“My darling, none of the guests from the party have tried to intrude on your sanctuary, have they?” Michael asks, voice vibrating through his chest into your head still pressed against it. 

“No, of course, not.” That wasn’t Lucifer leaving, was it? He said he wasn’t leaving; did he change his mind? 

Michael’s hand against your head pats you once more, before pulling away from you. “Do you feel up to returning to the celebration? I wouldn’t want to leave you unattended on the day celebrating our love.” Michael’s eyes—gentle moments ago—have taken on a sharp edge. Those blue eyes sweep over the garden around you, as if searching for something. 

“It’s a bit much for me, dear. It’s been quite some time since I’ve entertained a crowd of that size.” So many years you can’t exactly pinpoint, in fact. They all seemed to start blending after the first thousand. 

Besides, if he hasn’t left, you have something to finish. “Are you sure? I can send for one of our sisters to keep you company, if you need a boost in spirit while I entertain our guests.” 

You definitely don’t think Jophi or Ari could keep the secret of Lucifer being here. “No, it’s alright. They’re enjoying themselves, Jophi was practically over the moon with you when I left.” Michael’s lips split into a grin, and your nerves calm at knowing you’ve distracted him away from potentially finding the hidden intruder in the garden. 

“Jophi would love another dance with you as well, sweetheart. Maybe after dinner tonight.” You can hardly think of dinner right now. “I’m sorry, but “I’ll leave you to your beauty, then, my harmony. I need to sweep the palace before I return to the celebration.” He needs to double check; you understand how your husband’s mind works. 

Michael guides you back to him, the warmth of his lips against the crown of your head a stark difference to the chill of his hand against your cheek. He backs away from you, casting one last look across your garden before smiling at you and turning back to the golden gate he created for you so long ago. 

Only after the door closes do you realize you’d been holding your breath. Even the garden around you feels as if it’s relieved to no longer have to hide its secret from its creator. The air warms again. The grass rustles. The garden remembers how to breathe. 

You turn around to go search for that secret yourself. 

You barely pass the willow tree you’ve spent the years hiding from your woes and anxieties from when that swirl of red sparks swirls back to life beneath it. As if he was always there, just hiding. Like you hide within the colors of harmony. 

You open your mouth, about to say the name he rejected, but catch yourself. Your wings straighten behind you, feathers smoothing down perfectly as you turn back to him. A smile comes a moment later. “I thought you’d left when we heard the door slam.” 

“I might not remember much of you,” he says quietly. “But I know when I make a promise to you, I keep it.” Did he promise he wouldn’t? You felt more like he was being stubborn, as he always was before the fall. 

Wait, did he say he doesn’t remember much of you? “You…” Your voice catches. “You forgot me?” The man you haven’t gone a single day without thinking of… forgot you? The man whose fall shattered you, who you’ve cried for so much you could flood the earth again for the heavenly father. 

You stare at the man in front of you for a long moment, try your best to fight down the ache in your chest. “Harmony?” The nickname he created for you, gifted to you so long ago, doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the ache down. 

“I...” You take a quick breath as your fingers curl into the fabric of your sleeve. “I never forgot you.” You never could have hoped to, even if you wanted to. 

Lucifer stiffens in his stance, and you barely notice the hand holding his cane tighten against the apple top before you turn your eyes away, before they can betray how you feel.”. “You didn’t? Not even for a day?” Lucifer asks, voice soft as if he doesn’t believe your truth. 

“Not even for a second.” Even on the easier days, the days when life didn’t feel so unfair and unforgiving, you still thought of him. 

“I...” You only turn your gaze back on your once best friend when you hear him take a shaky breath, watch the way confusion and an ache you usually see in your own reflection go to war in his red eyes. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t try to forget you. I didn’t—I don’t understand how I could have.” 

Your wings stutter again, the colors of the garden flickering around you. “Neither do I.” 

“I...” Lucifer’s voice falters, hand loosening on his cane. “I lost something important, then. I know that.” 

You swallow, looking away just as Lucifer’s gaze turns back to you. “We both did.” You answer, the ache in your chest tightening as you realize something. 

“I’m here now, I... I want to remember. I’ll do whatever it takes to remember our past.” 

You aren’t sure how to fix the ache in your chest, not without trading it to Lucifer, because he doesn’t remember. 

He doesn’t remember all the things of your shared past that lead to breaking you.