pillow, not in this reality napping, hence the lateness of this post.
The last chapter (chapter 8) of this fic was the last of the collaboration
between myself and liliaeth. From this post onwards, the story
is entirely my own.
Hope you continue to enjoy. Comments, as always, are most welcome.
Her head buried in paperwork, Dr. Linda Martin startled when her door opened, unexpectedly, and Amenadiel walked in. He was tentative, for a change, looking somewhat cowed, for lack of a better word.
“What brings you here, today,” she curtly asked. “Are you here as a friend, a patient… a concerned brother? Or maybe you’re just here to manipulate me into spying against Lucifer. Or even to plant seeds for another attempt to get back to heaven again?”
She could tell he was taken aback at her bluntness.
“Look,” he said, chastised at her demeanor. “I know you have good reason to distrust me…”
“Even though you did stop time to save my life,” Linda admitted. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
“I let my pride get in the way of good sense. I don’t want to do that again.”
"So it's as a patient, then," Linda conceded. “You know I won't be your personal window into Lucifer anymore, don't you?”
“I know, I was wrong to lie in the first place. I'm glad for Lucifer’s friendship with you. He has great respect for your knowledge and kindness.”
“And I care a great deal about him, too.” Linda’s eyes misted at that. She never usually formed such a close relationship with her patients, but Lucifer was different… way different.
Amenadiel nodded. “So do I. I love my baby brother.”
“It might be best for you to remember that, in the future.”
“Lucifer didn’t have to forgive me, but he did. I just wish I could get him to understand what a gift getting his wings back was for him.”
Linda couldn’t quite control her surprise.
“He didn't say anything? No, I guess he wouldn't... he still views them as interference, instead of the blessing they actually are.
“He could have told me.” She was having a hard time getting past the fact that he withheld such monumental information from her.
“He barely wants to admit it to himself,” Amenadiel said, softly.
Linda just nodded, deep in thought. She'd have to try and broach the subject when next they spoke. “How did he get them back?” she finally asked.
“He doesn't have a clue. When he awoke in the desert, they were just there.”
Linda was shaken at that revelation. It was one thing to be given a choice, but to have something forced on you… this was practically rape – an unwanted assault on his person. Lucifer never really spoke about his wings… just that he saw them as a link to heaven – one he'd been happy to severe.
She wondered if she should tell Amenadiel that maybe he shouldn't force his feelings about losing his own wings on his brother. That just because Amenadiel desperately wanted to return to being the powerful angel he'd been before his fall, didn't mean that Lucifer felt the same way.
“Amenadiel... how would you feel if someone ... physically altered your body against your will. They might even say it's in your best interests, but to do so without asking first… without giving you a choice...”
“They’re his own wings, Linda. They're an integral part of him.”
“But they're a part he didn't want,” she insisted. “He had them removed. That was his own choice.”
She let Amenadiel sit and ruminate about those facts, trying not to force her own explanations on him. From a psychiatric perspective, it was useless to do so. It was always better if the patient came to the proper conclusions on their own, without her interference. She just hoped that Amenadiel didn't share his brother’s or his mother's tendencies to jump to the wrong conclusion.
“I just don't understand why he's so hell-bent on denying his true heritage,” Amenadiel pushed, somewhat desperately. “He was born into greatness, and instead, he prefers to waste his time hanging around humans.”
“Well sometimes people prefer a place that makes them feel welcome."
“Father gave him the entirety of hell; he was allowed to rule the entire dimension, to have responsibility over millions of souls. What is one club in LA compared to that?”
“You look down on us humans, don't you, Amenadiel? You think you're so much better than we are.” She said it as a statement, not a question.
“But we are.”
Linda was stunned to hear him admit it; she'd thought he'd prevaricate at the very least. He seemed to realize her shock.
“I don’t say that to insult you, or your kind. Father loves humanity for reasons of his own, but would you compare a dog to a human? That a fly’s life is just as meaningful as your own?”
Linda shook her head in dismay. “Nothing is more telling about a species, than how they treat the lesser amongst them.”
“Humans are beautiful, amazing beings… but compared to angels... We look after human souls in heaven; see them to their final reward, or their fitting punishment in hell. We serve to protect you, to care for you. But compared to an angel, your life span is infinitesimally short, and often brutal. You are fragile, and break so easily, and suffer mightily during it. In many ways, you lack true understanding. It's not your fault, it's not a flaw… it's how you were designed, created to be. Humanity can be wonderful, brave… but you aren't angels, and you never will be.
“A human might love his dog, care for that dog during its lifespan, and weep bitterly over that animal's death. But when it comes down to it, you'll move on.”
“Then why do you deign to be amongst us?” Linda was at a loss for words. She never felt so human in her life.
“Because I have no other choice. Because I can't go home to the Silver City.”
“And why is that?” she pushed.
“Because Father punished me for...” Linda could tell immediately when it dawned on him. “It's not pride, Doctor, it's just reality.”
“Okay, look,” Linda said, realizing he wasn't going to come out and say so. “Maybe the best thing you can do is give Lucifer the benefit of the doubt. He obviously has his reasons for wanting to live amongst the crush of humanity. You need to accept it. I mean, you can't change someone's mind or heart, but you can change how you react to it. Build a bridge.”
“I'm trying,” Amenadiel replied. “I just don't understand it.”
“You don't have to. Maybe, in time, you'll get it. Until then, fake it until you make it.”
“I just want what's best for him. And I'm sure Dad feels the same way,” Amenadiel insisted; like a dog with a bone, he wasn’t letting that go.
Linda had had enough. She stood up from behind her desk and addressed Amenadiel face to face. “And you both know what's best? Why doesn't Lucifer get a say? It's his life. When humans have children, it's not to make exact replicas of their own wants and desires. It's to create a unique individual with desires of their own. Shouldn’t that be the same with Angels?”
“He's my baby brother. I'm supposed to look after him.”
“But not live his life for him!” Why couldn’t he accept that?
“But he keeps screwing up!”Amenadiel was practically distraught.
“And apparently, so do you, according to God,” Linda pressed home. “How did his judgment make you feel?”
That clearly stung.
Amenadiel tried a different tack. “That isn't what I wanted to talk with you about,” he said, trying to visibly calm down.
“What do you want to discuss?” she asked, also trying to tamp down her personal thoughts and bring this back to a more professional manner. “Lucifer says you've taken that girl, Buffy, under your guard.” Somehow she just couldn't bring herself to say 'under your wing.'
“She feels like an innocent... she just doesn't belong here,” he admitted.
“She certainly does need help.”
“It's not just that, she feels... do you know how sometimes you have two instruments that just don't fit together? Play each individually, and they're beautiful… bring them together...”
Linda nodded in understanding. “They’re discordant.”
“Buffy is like that note that doesn't fit.” He lifted his hand, stopping her before she could interrupt. “It's not her fault, but the longer she stays here, the worse that note will get. She could open up a rift in the fabric of the universe and potentially destroy everything.”
“Aren’t you being a little overdramatic?” she asked.
“No. In fact, I may be underplaying the situation.”
“How do you know this?”
“We – Lucifer and I – found a blade in the desert, where Lucifer found Buffy. The blood on that blade, it sang of power. If that was Buffy's blood...”
“So, you're thinking maybe you can use the blood to re-open the door to Buffy's dimension and send her home?” she asked. Linda's mother didn’t raise no stupid children.
“Don't you agree that she wants to go home?” Amenadiel asked. “It seems as if the universe wants the same thing.”
“Well, as you yourself said, we humans are rather stupid.”
“I didn't...” He rolled his eyes, as if she was the one making things difficult.
Linda smiled. “Just playing Devil's Advocate here.” And trying to keep him from forcing Buffy into doing something that might be dangerous.
Maybe she needed to speak with both Lucifer and Chloe, although she didn't know just what information was in the detective's hands. She felt like such a mother hen for a moment - wanting to protect them all.
And she really had to get Lucifer to open up about his wings. Because if they really had been forced on him, then a lot of his emotional growth over the past couple of years might be flushed down the drain.