Caught in the Fire

Chapter XX: Breaking the Chains

Lucifer, the Devil, wandered through Hell with the Archangel Michael by his side. He had lost his vision after diving in the lake of fire to prevent Cain from going to Heaven, and before him lay nothing but darkness. He could barely even walk, but his brother was there to help him. He had a long journey ahead of him to get out of this Hell loop, but he couldn't find the light at the end of this dark tunnel. What path was he supposed to take when he couldn't even see?

I said that the angel who cast you out of Heaven would show you the path to redemption, and that is exactly what I will do—he remembered Michael telling him.

Some path to redemption, Dad—he thought with scorn.

His twin brother was there to help him, but the Devil's heart wasn't in it. He had done so much wrong in his life, and hurt so many people, that he just couldn't see how he was supposed to forgive himself for his mistakes. He was submerged in darkness, drowning in self-hatred, and he couldn't figure out how he was supposed to find the light at the end of the tunnel, even with Michael guiding him towards the light.

"Brother?" Michael was the first to speak. Lucifer turned his head in the direction of the voice, surprised at how caring it sounded, and then turned away again. He remembered a time when the two brothers actually cared about one another, before his rebellion ruined everything, of course. "Does that hurt?"

"No." Lucifer sighed, hearing the concern in his voice. "You don't have to pretend to care about me, Michael. I know you're doing this because you think I deserve a second chance, but from there to..."

"I do care," Michael spoke up, sounding hurt, "Even in my darkest moments, deep down, I still cared about you."

"Darkest moments?!" Lucifer cried out, and he had to bite back a laugh at the thought of goody-two-shoes Michael doing anything that could be considered dark. "Please, you're nauseatingly wholesome, Michael. What'd you do? Pray too hard?"

"Right," Michael said, and his voice sounded distant to Lucifer. It made him wonder if there was more to the story, or if Michael really did consider praying too hard to be some kind of unforgivable sin. "Regardless, I still care about your wellbeing."

Lucifer scoffed again, remembering their sword fight on the beach and Michael flying him off-planet and throwing him through the stratosphere. If that was caring, he shuddered to think about what an enemy would do to him. "You didn't seem to care when you were kicking my ass all over the California coastline... in a skirt, of all things, if only to add insult to injury!"

Michael paused for a moment, and Lucifer wondered if he would even say anything. Maybe he was upset at having his beating thrown back in his face, or maybe it was him bringing up the fact that he did it in a skirt. "I was angry with you," he finally spoke up, "And not just because of what happened to our brother. I... I had been angry for a long time. I thought I had moved past it..."

Intrigued, Lucifer couldn't help asking for more information. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Michael seemed to wave that thought away. "It does not matter anymore. What matters is getting you home."

"Home," Lucifer said softly, closing his eyes in pain and furrowing his brow. How he missed his nightclub, his penthouse, his job with the LAPD, Chloe... "But how, Michael?"

"We start from the beginning," Michael offered, "I assume you did not find the root of your guilt?"

"No," was all Lucifer could say, feeling how hopeless his situation was. How was he supposed to leave this cell when he didn't even know what was holding him in it? "Maze told me you were on your way, so I tried to find the root and break out of here in time for your arrival." He frowned, remembering his fruitless attempts to find the root of it all that only led to Cain's release. "Guess what I found? Nothing! Nothing besides a ton of guilt that's keeping me hopelessly trapped here."