Work Text:
The last time Lucifer checked for his wings, he was horrified at the sight. Seeing them as they were so many millennia ago was horrific enough, but seeing them that way showed him that he was again the devil he used to be.
But it was nothing compared to the terrible memories of nearly giving into his desire to punish the guilty, memories of his trust shattering. He’d been unable to bring himself to believe that he was a better man, as Chloe had told him, wholeheartedly that he’d changed for the best.
Of his own free will, Lucifer recalled the night his self-hatred had taken over. The night he’d realized he blamed himself for humanity’s sins, loathe as he was to admit it. The night Chloe stayed with him, helped him. ”Lucifer, you need to forgive yourself.”
Lucifer’s voice was hollow, almost dead. “I can’t.” It was too late.
“Why?” Chloe asked, desperate.
“I don’t know how to.” Lucifer’s sheer hopelessness left him numb to every emotion he’d found himself to be capable of, but even so, he didn’t want to live like this. “I don’t even know where to begin. But…”
”But what?” Lucifer turned to face her, doubt piled on his back like rocks. Mostly doubt that she truly was as okay as she’d said.
“I want to,” Lucifer admitted.
It began from his heart; everything that was good and pure, every bit of his redemption he’d strived to achieve. Years of becoming more than he thought was finally returning. As his wings retracted, Lucifer stared disbelievingly at his hands as they slowly returned to normal. He looked up to gauge Chloe’s reaction.
He didn’t have to ask if she was seeing what he was. “Lucifer, I think you just took the first step.”
At this, Lucifer laughed, happiness washing over him. “Look at that, Detective!” He could hardly believe it, but he’d done it. Lucifer, the Devil, had forgiven himself.
However, even after the fact, Chloe still worried. Worried that he would go back to the way he was. Worried that his self-forgiveness wasn’t enough.
The moment she’d approached him, just as he was about to send his unwelcome demons back to Hell, a thrill of terror went through him. Chloe had assumed it to be Lucifer’s vulnerability, and although it did play a part, it wasn’t the real reason why he needed her to leave.
It pained him to see Chloe frozen with terror, seeing him for what he was—the Devil, and the thought of her leaving with no promise of coming back again was too much.
Far too much.
”I don’t want you to see me like this,” Lucifer said gravely. “I know it scares you.”
”No, that’s…that’s what I was trying to tell you,” Chloe revealed. “I’m not—I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
”You’re not?” Lucifer ignored the comment mimed by the dead priest Dromos possessed. Chloe shook her head. He didn’t understand. “Well, then why have you been so worried? Worried about my face? About all of it coming back?”
”I wasn’t afraid of you. I was afraid of losing you.” Lucifer let his guard down with every word she spoke. “That all of this would take over, you’d forget about this place.” Chloe looked into his eyes and said, “And that you’d forget about me.”
So, it wasn’t he himself that she was afraid of. She was afraid for him. The revelation was like seeing the first tufts of spring grass after a long and harsh winter. Chloe was terrified at the thought of him becoming lost, forgetting everything. Forgetting her.
It was a surreal thought, but in the instant following her confession, there was no time left to care or worry about any of it. The last thing Lucifer ever wanted, even when he hardly knew Chloe—she was in danger. Even after Charlie was safe, the fight wasn’t over.
And this was a line he couldn’t allow to be crossed.
With no other choice, Lucifer had let go of Chloe’s hand, hoping she’d understand. He’d torn his skin to shreds, revealing the truth underneath. With a guttural roar rising from deep in his throat, everything was still.
After all he’d done to suppress this side of him, he’d welcomed it.
At his command, the demons bowed to their king, and one by one, they abandoned the cadavers they’d inhabited. As easily as his true form had come, it was gone.
His heart had thundered in his chest as Chloe shakily pulled herself up, but he could see in her eyes that she’d meant what she said.
The ordeal made them think, maybe there was a chance. The night’s events had given him a wake-up call. He knew what had to happen now, and he didn’t want his monstrous side to be the last thing she ever saw of him.
Lucifer was a better man now. He’d changed. He’d grown.
Maybe there was a chance.
Lucifer rolled his shoulders, and his wings flung open. There was no promise of being met with snow-pale feathers, but he braced himself, expecting the worst, while hoping to have been wrong.
His eyes flickered to the side, far enough to catch a glimpse.
Please, tell me they’re different now. Tonight alone has brought him little more than misfortune; he wasn’t sure he could handle something like this again. Another rush of horror, sadness, helplessness…not again.
Lucifer took a breath, and he looked over his shoulder, like he’d done before.
They weren't the same—far from it. Gone were his devil wings. He saw no evidence that they’d been there at all. All he could see now were his angel wings, glowing with a light no human could comprehend. It was unbelievable. Impossible.
But it was a bittersweet moment—a light in the darkest hour. It brought forth a spark of joy despite the painful truth he would have no choice but to deliver. Tiny victories, he thought.
Down in Hell, joy only existed as a cruel lie. It was the only reason necessary to hold onto it, in the short time he had left on earth. For now, Lucifer allowed this elation to overcome the agony, hardly noticing, let alone caring that he hadn’t yet curled his wings into his back again.
Lucifer looked over his shoulder again, and for a brief moment, he smiled as his favorite voice echoed in his mind, “You need to forgive yourself.”
At last, Lucifer could truly believe that he had, and his angel wings could attest to that.
THE END