The Girl Who Made The Devil Weak

The Chase

(Trigger warning: Mentions of gas-lighting)

    "My home... on Earth... please," were the last words to leave Hanna's mouth before she blinked and found herself in her previous home back above the surface. Everything was just as she left it months ago, pristine and untouched by time, save for the thick layer of dust coating nearly every surface one could lay eyes on. Not at all expecting to be sent back so immediately, a crying Hanna found herself alone in the home, no angels or devils in the same space that she occupied. 

Taking a few moments to try and collect herself, Hanna took a few deep breaths before wiping away her tears, moving then to head upstairs. She wanted to be somewhere safe, somewhere with a lock and hard for anyone else to access. The perfect place? Her old bedroom. Heading up the stairs, Hanna couldn't help but worry that Michael had been lying to her. Lucifer wouldn't have done those things, right? However, if Michael was lying, how could they explain her losing track of time, losing memories, and the like? The cheating? What was real and what was fake anymore?

~~

"Michael! Give her back!" A distressed Lucifer shouts into the cold air of his home, his voice echoing through the long hallways as he searched for his wife. Where could his brother have hidden her? Why couldn't he feel her presence in the home anymore?

"Oh, but where's the fun in giving her back so soon, dearest brother?" A disembodied voice calls through the hall, leading Lucifer to streak down to where the voice could be, opening every single door on the way over. 

Damn these doors! Why did he have so many to begin with, he wondered as he continued his frantic search, just wanting Hanna by his side once again. 

"Just give her back, damn it!" Slamming open another door, Lucifer huffs as he's unable to find both Hanna and his brother, "Why are you doing this?"

Michael's cruel chuckle fills the hall again, emanating from the opposite end of the hall as the angel materializes before him in all of his blinding glory, wings spread and ready to take off at any second. Blood was still splattered across his previously pristine suit, but whose blood was it really? Was it Hanna's or just an illusion? 

"You have something, or rather, had someone, that we wanted, brother." Michael explains, golden eyes practically swimming with malice for his older brother, "However, she may have fallen into our care with a little manipulation by yours truly, so I've completed my mission for the time being. You didn't truly think that you could have something so pure reside here, did you, Luci?"

Lucifer knew that Michael was right, but he'd never admit to such. It was silly to think that he could have kept his wife a secret from the man upstairs, especially when she was the epitome of innocence and kindness. Such a soul deserved to either remain on Earth or transcend with the angels, not to reside where demons and sinners walked side-by-side, hand-in-hand in their suffering. 

"Oh, fuck you, Michael. Enough of that 'holier than thou' bullshit." Lucifer replies, feeling panic beginning to build up in his chest while trying desperately to hide such worries from the man in front of him, his glare hardening as he took a step towards his angelic counterpart. What had his brother done with Hanna? Was she safe? "What have you done with my wife?"

"Sorry, that's classified, Luci. I'm just following orders from the big man, carrying out God's will and such. What's that one saying? 'Don't shoot the messenger'?" Michael quips, knowing that he had begun to get under Lucifer's skin, raising his arms at his side with an easy shrug, 

"I'm simply the messenger."